Not Lying Down

This afternoon I was researching and expanding upon some of my previous writings on  the Alexander Technique on Negative Directions.  As I moved to practice guitar, I decided a lie down was in order.  Settling into the floor and thinking about my body, I decided to use I am not doing a lie down.  A twist on directing that I have not played with previously.  Holding this thought a bit,  I then moved to I am not lengthening my arms, not widening my back and not releasing my pelvis.  Going through my body but directing to not release.  My mind quickly quieted with this experiment.  I wondered if I'd notice anything different.  The area of my back behind the chest which usually releases a bit during a lie down did not have the sudden release I've become accustomed to of late.  Not sure why this did not happen, but I did notice.

Continuing with the experiment as I went to get off the floor I directed  I am not getting up.  Which led to I am not walking to my guitar and I am not opening my case.  My awareness spread as I was not opening my guitar case.  Nor was I standing and playing notes as I was not standing on the Earth.  Neither was I recording my practice and I was not afraid of misplaying a particular part.  Shortly after this I noticed I was tightening my jaw as another difficult section was coming.  I paused and directed I am not holding my jaw when I play.  I noticed this jaw tightening two other times during my session.  Now I wonder how much this may be part of my playing and will look for this in the coming days.

While practicing Qi Gong during a break from playing I directed I am not holding onto my energy.  As I returned to the guitar I laughed as I began thinking I do not know how to play!  The freedom in my use generated by these experiments with negative directions today was palpable.  What causes this quieting of the mind and an introduction of ease in my body continues to mystify and intrigue me. 

Photo by Ed Utham

Changing Conditions

A smile can change the condition of the world. - Thich Nhat Hahn

I've always loved the above quote.  For years I had a calligraphy of it on a post card strategically placed so that I would be reminded of the simple power of a smile to change conditions for myself and others.  This was good for a man who took himself far too seriously.  Last week I stumbled upon the quote again, while taking a break from practicing.  When I returned to the guitar I smiled at her, hoping for improved results I suppose. 

While playing that day the thought arose - let your hands smile at the guitar.  Something must have shifted because I wrote this on a post-it and attached this to my music stand.  Today I was struggling with a section of the piece Senseless Loss that I hope to record on Wednesday.  Forgetting that the metronome is my friend, I was becoming frustrated.  I don't like wearing headphones listening to the beat, but I was working with simulating the conditions in which I will record.  Then I saw the post-it.

A bit of the tension in my hands dissolved, and that was when I knew I needed a break.  Hitting the floor for an Alexander Technique lie down, I let my body to unwind a bit.  I visualized the chord changes that were hanging me up.  Returning to the guitar with a smile in my hands I worked a bit more.  With a softer forgiving attitude this time.  Smiling as I noticed that the conditions of the world had changed.

Photo by istolethetv

Mutiple Practices Supporting One Another

We had a wonderful Qi Gong session with Master Nianzu Li on the banks of Sligo Creek this morning.  The gentle energizing movements inviting me to be long & wide from a different perspective.  Between movements in Qi Gong there is a pause, an opportunity to practice what Master Li refers as Triple Regulation.  During this time we check in with our body, mind and breath and relax or engage what is needed.  Frequently I use this pause as an opportunity to direct my thinking via the Alexander Technique.  Allowing the directions to release my neck, back and limbs.  This correlates with me with an ancient Chinese aphorism Ei Dao, Qi Dao - where the mind goes, the Qi goes.


After breakfast I did 30 minutes of organizing and then began my guitar practice.  I love the opportunity to practice in the early morning, especially after such an energizing Qi practice.  I began improvising simple melodies and playing with where they took me.  After this I decided to play through a piece I know well as a warm up, but to play it louder than I normally would.  The twist here being that I wanted to pay attention to my use as I played loud.  Pausing to direct via the Alexander Technique,  I began to play loud.  Why did my right elbow tense as I played loud?  Then I noticed unnecessary tension in my right shoulder, most likely arising from within my neck.  All because of playing loud?  Does loud really require that much force?  Was part of this some type of emotional blockage arising?

When the piece was over, I thought it was good to direct via the Alexander Technique again and let go.  Moving onto working with a tremolo piece - Senseless Loss.  I worked up to where I can play this at a tempo of 76 accurately.  I played through it once and then moved the metronome up to 80 and just played the  last few bars.  Then I put the metronome at 84 and played the same few bars without success.  I back off to a setting of 82 and then recalled an exercise from Pedro de Alcantara's wonderful book  Indirect Procedures: A Musician's Guide to the Alexander Technique (Clarendon Paperbacks).  On the second beat of each measure you insert a rest.  I began working with the ending in this manner for the next 20 minutes until I could successfully play the ending.  I took a break and then resumed this work but added in a few more bars.  When this was successful I went back to a tempo of 80 and played the entire piece.  I smiled at how easy this happened.  By tackling the ending first the rest fell in place effortlessly.

After this I did a 15 minute Alexander Technique lie down.  I noticed just a little bit of tension around the middle of my spine and back.  Slowly the muscles released as did this discomfort.  Back to the guitar.  I turned on the tape machine to play through 3 pieces I've been working with.  Midway through the second piece I lost my focus and turned off the recorder.  Pausing and directing once again, I again turned on the machine.  Does turning on the tape machine turn on my internal chatter or do I just notice the chatter more?  Though not flawless I did make it through this time. 

I am grateful that I have these wonderful practices of music, Qi Gong, Meditation, and the Alexander Technique that all support one another and me.  Life is very very good.

Two Times to Lie Down

Tonight while practicing, I became aware of tightness and unnecessary tension in my lower back and right elbow.  Pausing to think through the Alexander Technique directions I found a bit of freedom, but not enough.  Time to hit the floor for an AT lie down.  As I gathered my books I thought when was the last time I did this?  Not a good sign when I can not remember doing something that always yields positive results.

While on the floor I noticed other tensions below the right shoulder and across the back  in general that are familiar to me.  What happened?  Why so long since I've done this wonderfully freeing practice?  There have been times when I've done 2 & 3 or more lie downs in a day, but in the mist of a full life this has somehow dropped off.  The past few days I've thought of doing a lie down, a sign that one is needed, but for some reason, or rather lack of reasoning I have not.  Fortunately the reminders of a good habit kept whispering to me and finally got my attention.

Thus while my back released into the floor I came up with the two times to do an Alexander Technique lie down rule -  When I think I need a lie down and when I don't!

Exploring the Edges

 What happens when I get lost in the edge of uncertainty?

My body contorts, breathing is held, emotions flutter and my brain, well frankly I am uncertain what my brain does or does not do.  Why this set of psycho-physical reactions? Does one happen before the other or do they all arise simultaneously?  What if I were able to maintain my freedom at the 'edge?'   Instead of spinning out of control, what if I spiraled out, slowly evolving in somewhat of a pattern?

Can I make friends with the edge, my edge?

After generating these aforementioned questions, I decided to do an Alexander technique lie down.  As I lay down on the floor, the idea that I could visualize improvisations while in this very free state of the lie down arose.  Deciding to play with it, I first thought through the lie down process, allowing my body to lengthen and widen and to let go of unnecessary tension.  I began to improvise using my mind. At times I was hearing it, while at times I was seeing my fingers making choices on the fretboard. Other times it was a combination of both.

As this mental improvisation developed I noticed activity in the area of my chest and though it was not necessarily fear, some type of emotional response was developing.  Smiling, why with just this exercise on the floor would any type of emotional activity arise?   Ah, this creature I inhabit is always puzzling.  As I played with this improvisational exercise, I decided to bring my arms up from the floor mimicking the position I would have when playing the guitar.  Why not bring whatever habitual bodily identification I have regarding improvisation on the guitar into this exercise? 

After writing this I was ready to pick up the guitar, and then I recognized an opportunity to inhibit this choice.  Applying the AT directions, I again noticed this activity in the area of my chest.  Perhaps I'm just overloaded from a long week.  Or I may be probing an area that elicits a negative distracting reaction to my actions.  Or both.  Since most of my weeks are overloaded with stimulation, there is no way to rule this out.  Might I approach the edge of learning how to better live within this life of mine.
All of this from a simple withholding of implementing my act of picking up the guitar and working with the Alexander Technique instead.  Deciding that another lie down is in order I head for the floor.

During this second lie down I again experimented with visualizing an improvisation. My body was not as overwhelmed with tension this time and relished the opportunity to release even more.  There was no emotional flutter associated with this set of imagined improvisations.  I rose from the floor and decided that I would now pick up my guitar and explore improvising.  Should I mimic one of the visualizations or find a new beginning? 

I began with using the AT directions and began to play in the high register.  Gently probing what was there, I noticed the freedom in my use from the two lie downs and continued directions.  There is a definite positive effect from keeping the AT directions alive over time.  After exploring a few improvs I noticed that I was beginning to hunch inwards.  Why this drawing in of my body?  Am I "protecting" myself with this action?  Taking a short break, I then came back and decided to explore this further.

This next improvisation began to come alive.  I turned on my recorder.  Almost immediately the music stopped.  Was this the affect of my effort to capture?  Or the set of ears eliciting something negative in me?  I continued to play and explore, slowly moving out to the edge.  Music seemed to arrive again, with my body relatively free and my mind engaged, I let come what may.  Then I began an improvisation based on the structure of Gathered Hearts.  After some gentle meandering, again something came alive.  Letting go of this, I then played Gathered Hearts and then improvised some more.  I realized that in a sense I had "spiraled out" towards my edge.  Preparing the body and the mind with the lie downs and visualizations and then introducing the guitar.  Stepping out towards the edge, and then a break, followed by more steps.

A lot of questions and an approach that led to positive experiences.  More to follow I'm sure.  Stay tuned,

Around the Edge of Habit

One of the reasons that Lynn Brice Rosen suggested playing around with my guitar during a lie down is "A musician's instrument is a powerful stimulus, often triggering patterned responses even when nothing's being played."  So very true.  This was illustrated last night at my session with David Jernigan when, as I was semi-supine on the floor, he simply plucked an open string as the guitar lay in the case.  There was a flutter in my chest, almost a longing, and a bit of who is that playing my guitar.  As he continued to play open strings I worked with staying with my body but the distraction of merely hearing my guitar was pulling me.  When I could see him begin to lift the guitar from the case, I had another reaction, but then he set it back.

Tonight I was preparing to play, by first doing a lie down to release the toll of my day.  As I hit the floor I wondered, suppose I did not play after the lie down but did something else.  Seeing an opportunity to exercise a real choice here, I choose to not move to playing right after the lie down.  Then the stories began, but then the time doing constructive rest is wasted if you just clean your desk.  You could sit with the guitar. Or play your dumbek instead, at least this would be musical I reasoned.  But the habitual pull of moving from lie down needed to be inhibited.  Upon arising I sorted through some old food sections for a few minutes.  Then as I moved toward the guitar I began singing and even began to dance.  Some spirited playing ensued.

Habits are so strong, and sometimes even very good habits need to be examined and set free.

Photo by Michael C Clark

The Question Remains - Where Am I?

Doing a pre-guitar practice lie down, I noticed the area below my right shoulder blade that sometimes becomes sore from playing. Direct anatomical expression of this area is beyond my competence, and the muscle in question may even lay deeper within my back or within my neck.   I do know the area was sore.  I focused my thinking on letting go of this tension.  Then I took a more universal approach and thought of allowing my neck to be free.  Where within the muscular pathways of my neck am I "holding on," or using myself poorly.

As I continued the lie down and thought of releasing my neck, the discomfort left.  I wondered about the discomfort I have noticed in the upper part of my forearm of late.  What is the relationship between what I often notice in my back and what is happening in my forearm.  How am I using myself right now as I type?  I found a slight lifting of my shoulder and a shortening of my arm.  Where and when did I learn this pattern of use?  This is not the first time I have observed this manifestation.  Certainly there is a cause, a habit that has evolved within me that has led to this being regular and now causing discomfort. Now my work is to let go of this habit as a typist, as a guitarist, even in how I hold a cup of coffee.

Finding freedom of use within any activity, invites in this freedom to all activities. So the question becomes Where am I?  Am I typing mechanically or am I aware of my body, my breath, as I express these thoughts with my lap top? 


From my work with the Alexander Technique and examining anatomy texts, I have gained a much greater appreciation of the number of muscles that comprise what we call our necks.  These muscles extend deeper and further in the back and the chest than I had ever imagined.  As they layer and extend through the passages around bone, tension in one will impact the flexibility of others.  Conversely freedom in one affects the rest. Regardless of my state before a lie down, I always rise in a better one.  Free and aware, my musculo-skeletal system placed at an advantage for me to undertake activity. Time for another lie down before I pick up my guitar.

Multiple Lie Downs

I am continuing to investigate Philip Pawley's idea of doing more lie downs for shorter periods of time.  Today over the course of an hour & twenty minute practice period, I did six lie downs.  My usual one to begin my practice and then One every ten - fifteen minutes.  Never did I feel the "need" to do a lie down, yet I continued to do so.

The first three lie downs, I noticed the usual place in my spine behind the rib cage was tight.  This tightness let go easily. The duration of each lie down was longer than the minute that Pawley has investigated and suggests.  If indeed I am to rest these muscle that are learning new ways of being used, I suspect that a little longer time on the floor is prudent.  By the end of my practice session I was energized, and even willing to go further.  But a glance at the clock on a Sunday night and I know I need to let go and get to bed.

Investigating Short Lie Downs

 

At my AT lesson this week David Jernigan, told me that he was working with doing the AT lie down procedure more frequently but for very short durations.  This came about from reading he has done on the work of Philip Pawley.  I've been doing AT lie downs, properly referred to as semi-supine, for over 20 years.  Generally for a period of 10-20 minutes as suggested to me by a variety of AT teachers, not the least of whom is Frank Sheldon.  The reasons to undertake this practice is allow the body to stretch and to sort itself out.  And also to rest tired muscles.  From the little I've read so far of Pawley's work it is the rest aspect that he feels is most important.

Today I choose to rest more than is my nature, and to reflect and have additional time for meditation.  I did two lie downs in the morning part of my practice.  In the afternoon when I picked up my guitar, I decided to begin with a lie down, and then to incorporate Pawley's idea of doing a lie down every ten minutes for just one minute. For the next 50 minutes I did do four short lie downs as part of my practice.  I noticed that this did assist not only my use with the guitar, but that during the third short lie down I found that the middle portion of my back/spine had begun to tighten.  After this tightness released, I practiced for 10 more minutes and then took a longer break.

Returning for 30 more minutes of guitar practice, I again began with a short lie down and incorporated two more during the practice and completed my session with a longer lie down.  There was a sense of a greater freedom and awareness, and my head and neck seemed to find a release.   Of course this last piece of noticing could also be what Alexander referred to as "faulty sensory appreciation."  Yet my ease of use was palpable.  I suspect I'll continue this investigation further.

You can receive a free download of Philip Pawley's article here.

Laying Down the End

Today is the middle day of my vacation.  While small tasks are being completed and general order being improved, I also have more time to dedicate to the guitar today.   An hour in the morning, one plus in the afternoon, and about another 2.5 hours this evening.  Throughout this day, as most days, I worked with the Alexander Technique.  While I apply this particularly to the guitar, I find opportunities to pause and check in with AT regularly.  These moments away from the guitar are just as valuable as those with the guitar, because AT is concerned with how we use our self.  Thus how I pick up a book, open a door, or chop garlic are opportunities to practice AT. 

Now the evening session was going to be much shorter, but around 9 pm I played with a beginning that arose during an improvisation in the afternoon. Standing there playing with this idea, the possibilities began to unfold. I had a sense that once again I would not be going to bed early.  As I continued to play with the music, I knew I was going to need to notate what I had.  In general, I use myself well when playing the guitar either standing or sitting.  But when I sit down to notate I contort and tense in more ways than I knew possible.  With the guitar around my body and notating on the paper on the desk any sense of good use disappears.

During the act of notation this piece began to develop more. So I would write, and play, explore what I had, write, and play.  Noticing odd ways of using my right leg to support the guitar as I crane to see the neck and write down what I was doing.  My back getting tense and tired, my neck no longer free.  But the piece was developing, and my end gaining was in full stride.  The piece taking off in different directions than when I was improvising, is this better or not I hear myself questioning.  After an hour or so of this I know I must take a break.  Not purely out of a sense of being good to myself, I had run out of ideas to explore and notate.  Taking off my guitar, I sensed the stress in my body.  I was already tired when I began this part of the evening, and now even more so.  A good time to call it a night.


But I also knew that I could not yet curl up with my novel.  An AT lie down was in order to relax my back and undo what my end gaining had caused.  As I lay on the floor, my books supporting my neck, I found my thinking wandering what to do next with this piece.  Directing my thoughts back to my body, to lengthen and widen, noticing the relaxation seep in as tired muscles released.  Suddenly I remembered a chord sequence in the bass register, that was near the beginning of the original improvisation, and had been left out once I began notating and exploring.  I had a sense this part would work where I was currently stopped on the piece and was ready to get up and investigate.  End gaining returning, what was I to do?

Fortunately I continued the lie down.  Not meaning any disrespect to the muse, I would return to the music that was being given to me, but what was happening in the lie down was also very important.  I suspect I probably ended the lie down a few minutes sooner than if no idea had arrived, but I did resist the initial impulse to just leap from the floor and return to work.  As I sat at my desk, guitar strapped to my body, I explored this sequence and before I knew what had happened, I had an ending to the piece. 

Now I can curl up with my copy of Ilium.

Lie Down and Find Myself

                                    Photo by James Landry

Tonight was one of those nights I knew I needed an AT lie down before practicing.  My body tired from the long months of work, ready to let go into vacation mode, but I still have one more day to tend to my professional duties.  Wrapping up details, completing reports, leaving instructions, and anticipating the unknown.  But now refreshed from my lie down, my energy is flowing and I'll report to practice.

There is that part of me, present daily to be dealt with - my resistance.  The best way I know to deal with my resistance, is to ask for help and to move onto the task at hand.  How many of thousands of times have I pushed out of bed to go to work.  I treat my practice the same.  In desperate times, invoking my  two times to practice rule - when I want to and when I don't want to.  The respite from demands on myself offered by the lie down is nourishing and energizing, not in any way giving into the resistance.  Rather it is a method of preparing myself for a quality beginning.

When I sat on my stool, my body was ready to receive my guitar and to take as fresh a look as possible at how I play.  Beginning with an exercise dealing with accents and the right hand, I enjoyed the simple act of playing notes.  The sound drawing me into the moment, my listening deepening as I shifted the accent between the thumb and various fingers.  Such joy to be found when I am using myself well, and working in a way to improve overall.  From there I played through Gathered Hearts and then Stepping Stones.  Taking time to stay connected with myself as I played, keeping the AT directions alive with my thinking.  As I worked on the power pull-off section of SS, I wondered why I do not always begin with a lie down?  A very good question indeed.

Pausing and marveling at how this simple action, also known as active rest, can be so restorative and generative.  My muscles lengthened, my Qi flowing, and my mind quieted.  A very simple and powerful practice.  And now back to the guitar.