a moving stillness

When did I begin to pay attention to what being a “quiet” rider means? It seems fairly recent, but seeds are always sown well ahead of the bloom. Of course, I have heard the quality praised over and over again – this rider has a quiet seat, this one quiet hands, this one a quiet presence -- but with so much else to learn and to “do,” apparently it took some time before I was ready to reflect on what quiet really means – to me, and to my horse.

Late August, Gail Field’s annual Centered Riding Clinic out at Lord Stirling Stable, my only written notes state: “DO NOTHING, learn to surrender to the horse. First do nothing – any tension or holding tells the horse something.” Hummmmm.

Early October, ah yes, there was that particularly vivid experience at Mio Morales’ weekend intensive Alexander Technique workshop. Sitting “still” in our seats, we practiced what became a kind of meditation – we gently and repeatedly brought our attention to the possibility of ease in our head/neck area. The ease ebbed and flowed with our awareness, and I was freshly reminded how much subtle movement is really taking place as we simply sit on our chairs. How interesting and refreshing it was to turn down the extraneous “noise” of excess tension and unnecessary movement. Hummmmm.

Next, a wonderful article by Elizabeth Reese, “The Alexander Technique and Classical Equitation” really got me thinking about what I have been telling my horse as I sometimes fidget around, trying to find just the right organization of myself as I ride. A few choice quotes:

* “. . . any action that the rider does make can [should] be both intentional and momentary.”

* “We must first find a place of quiet listening in order to act. Without listening, all of our actions are really reactions.”

* “The rider needs to discover a neutral place where she or he is not interfering with or disrupting the horse’s balance.”

November, Aikido Winter Camp in Florida: the image of Shibata Sensei’s “calm-before-the-storm” way of being. We quickly came to know that without any discernible movement or clue he could in a split second somehow draw an unsuspecting attacker into the center of the action. This produced a profound sense of aliveness on the mat -- magical in a way. You never knew where he would appear and you never quite knew what to expect. He captured our attention, with his quietness. His movements seemed to carry even more impact as they emerged out of a calm stillness. Hummmmm.

And periodically throughout the autumn I visited philosophical realms with “Dressage in the Fourth Dimension” written by Dr. Sherry Ackerman, a professor of philosophy who is also a dressage rider. An excerpt on sacred geometry:

“All movement begins with its antithesis, immobility. The dot, in ancient cosmologies, represented universal consciousness – the source of all things . . . in . . . dressage, we participate in the dot through the fully engaged halt. We sit, perfectly motionless in poised collection . . . as long as we do not disturb the collection, the horse remains prepared . . . for instantaneous movement in any direction . . . we sit in a stream of consciousness: the motion of immobility.”

So, lately when I get on a horse, or step onto the aikido mat, or find myself in a crowded subway or on a congested New York City street, I am very interested in the component of stillness within the activity -- how to be still without becoming tense. How does my presence affect my horse, or my training partners on the mat? Do others become more manageable or react differently to me when I stay quietly in touch with my center? Where is the neutral place where harmony begins? Hummmmm.

Shown above, Annelie sits quietly connected to the canter of one of the largest horses I have seen her ride, an enormous Cleveland Bay she rode at his owners request at the Centered Riding Clinic at Thorncroft Therapeutic Riding Center. She recently attempted to describe to me the sense of stillness that is possible on a beautifully moving horse; apparently you feel that you are doing nothing, but in reality there is a lot going on!

tuning the body

As I began to research the history of a movement art which has excited my imagination, the roots of what is today known as Rhythmic Gymnastics proved to be intertwined with many aspects of my personal past: artistic gymnastics, music and dance of course, but more surprisingly I found that it grew from musical pedagogies such as Dalcroze Eurythmics, Orff and Kodaly methods and the Eurythmy developed by Rudolf Steiner. Further connection is made to even more esoteric influences such as the Gurdjieff Movements and various types of sacred dance considered a form of yoga in India, created to act out events of a cosmic nature.

The idea that the human body can mirror a cosmic perfection, precisely trained and tuned to express universal principles is quite fascinating. Exposure to the systems and ideas noted above, as well as practical immersion in the discoveries of F.M. Alexander has given me a taste for the potential of movement practices to expand self-knowledge, consciousness and awareness. These are also the aspects of aikido training which continue to enthrall – the pure physics involved as well as the opportunity to open my perspective and refine the use of myself.

Initially I was somewhat surprised at the depth of my obsession with this incredible art form, called a sport by some – but as I delved into its development it began to make sense, as it grew from various methods designed to teach the principles of music through expressive movement, or gymnastic exercizes to develop grace, flexibility and good posture. If only I had known about this when I was a young gymnast I thought -- however the first world championship was held in Budapest in 1963 and its first Olympic appearance was not until 1984 -- so my childhood gymnastics career was premature.

The artist who has completely captured my attention is Anna Bessonova, still apparently reaching her peak at the ripe old age of 25 (most others stop competing by their early twenties). She is a world super-star as you will soon discover if you take even a cursory look on the internet, and her statuesque power, dramatic range and breathtaking precision are utterly captivating. Yes, these are superhuman feats she is executing, but we can all learn something kinesthetically by enjoying her artistry.

Anna Bessonova is shown above competing with the hoop, one of the five (yes count them, five) different apparatus which must be mastered. By viewing close to one hundred of her performances, I have chosen a favorite routine in each discipline, should you care to observe more of her expressive range: the ball, the clubs, the ribbon, and the rope. In aikido we use wooden weapons to extend and clarify our body movements and our “open-handed” techniques; I find her self-mastery awe inspiring, and when you factor in the external objects whose laws she must also incorporate, it’s almost too much to comprehend!

a thing of beauty

My process in learning to ride has eerily paralleled my beginning years of aikido training. Idealism held sway over practical matters, sometimes resulting in rude awakenings. Tears often took me off the mat in those first years, but not once did I ever consider giving up on my training. For my first riding lesson, I was placed on a 17-hand Percheron cross who decided to get rid of me midway through the hour, and while shaken, I was quite certain that it would take more than that to keep me from learning to ride horses.

Now in my third year of riding I am very thankful that my background and idealism led me early on to the pedagogy of Centered Riding® where I have received incredible benefits from learning its principles. However, I have become aware that my understanding of some of the basic concepts of equitation is lacking. It would be as if studying the Alexander Technique could produce a fabulous violinist without ever taking violin lessons, or that someone could learn the art of aikido without mastering ikkyo, nikkyo, sankyo, etc. -- the techniques through which the art is taught.

So recently, in order to continue my equestrian education, I have been applying myself to the study of “The Principles of Riding” – The Official Instruction Handbook of the German National Equestrian Federation. Initially, I believed that this book might be a bit dry, and would lack the integrated and creative approach I find so appealing in the Centered Riding® methods. To the contrary, I am currently captivated as I find answers to many of my questions using this clear, time-honored and systematic approach. Now that I have accumulated some riding experience of my own, I seem finally ready for a good dose of technical information.

Just as it has taken many years of often strenuous and repetitious aikido training to allow me to experience the finesse and expression I craved from the very beginning, I sense that the aesthetic qualities which draw me to the equestrian arts are also quite far from my grasp and require years of dedicated practice to even begin to approach. Interestingly, this doesn’t seem to curb my enthusiasm in the least – a feeling not experienced since those early years in aikido.

At the end of one of my favorite sections of the book entitled ‘The Co-ordination of the Aids,’ which builds on the previous detailed descriptions of rein, leg and seat aids, I was very pleased to find the final paragraph which emphatically states: “When a rider has developed the seat as described, it is easily recognized for its artistic and aesthetic beauty.” (emphasis mine)

Enjoy the video above which demonstrates great artistry through nearly invisible technique in the partnership of Edward Gal (NED) and Moorlands Totilas as they win the gold medal at the 2009 European Dressage Championships with a new world record score of 90.750% - including 23 marks of 10.

the tao of silk

Ten years ago, a close friend of mine took a trip to Japan with a group of aikido students led by Yamada Sensei, and ever since I have been hearing tales of an aikido teacher they encountered there. Apparently all of the women students were particularly smitten with Endo Sensei, recognizing in him an elegance, subtlety, and sophistication of technique sometimes lacking in the martial arts. His teaching style is also somewhat uncommon – he lets everyone feel what he is doing, by moving around the mat and working with each student. The consensus opinion seemed to be – he’s so smooth – you really have to feel it!

Over the years I didn’t pay much attention to her periodic ravings -- I felt she certainly must be exaggerating, carried away by the exoticism of Japan. Finally I decided to take a look for myself and found the video above. My first impression was a very visceral response to the magically soft and enveloping quality of the interaction he creates with his uke. Somehow smooth doesn’t fully describe it – silken, might come closer.

In addition to its luxurious sheen, softness and luminosity, silk also has incredible tensile strength and structural integrity, as well as insulating properties and the ability to return to shape even if stretched up to 25% of its original length. Silk is apparently not only seductively soft, it’s strong and resilient as well.

Watching Endo Sensei over and over again, I began to sense how powerful his softness must feel to those receiving his techniques. There is really no discernible “moment of contact” as he draws his attacker into his own sphere. We experience it in good aikido training as an undertow, a feeling of the rug being pulled from under us, being sucked into a vortex. He certainly retains his structural integrity – he remains quietly imperturbable. From an Alexander Technique perspective he doesn’t interfere in the least with his own ease of coordination as he initiates movement from his center. Seductive (from Latin, literally ‘to lead astray’) is also another way to look at the quality of his movement.

Even more fascinating to scientists than the silk from silkworms is the silk produced by spiders. Visit the link to see an amazing Spider Silk Tapestry woven in Madagascar from the drag-line silk of a species of golden orb-weaving spider. According to it’s creators it’s a very unusual material: “we never broke a single strand, yet the tapestry is as soft as cashmere.”

“For its weight, spider silk is stronger than steel, but—unlike steel—it can stretch up to 40% of its normal length.” from the exhibit description at the American Museum of Natural History.

a fine romance

She handed off the little red horse to me, all the while cataloguing the litany of his sins and faults: ‘stubborn, you’ll have to crop him, then he’ll try to buck you off, he only wants to follow the others, then he will settle down – he likes to jump [whoa! – my class isn’t jumping yet!], his canter’s just ok’ . . . all this had apparently made for a very frustrating previous hour’s class for her. I smiled and thanked her and led Junior back to center ring to make our fresh start.

Somehow, I knew that there was another side to the story and I sensed that we were going to be able to “work things out”, me and Junior. After all, I was now in Intermediate Level 1 and our level is all about becoming independent, the leader of your horse. However, as soon as I mounted young Junior (he’s only 9 -- young compared to most of the horses I’m given to ride, 20 or so on average) I felt him settle into a determined stillness. Undaunted, I asked with my leg, repeated, spoke firmly “walk on” as I asked more insistently, eventually adding crop to leg. Junior remained absolutely immobile and then, as predicted by my predecessor, he kicked up his heels and somewhat halfheartedly tried to buck me off. For some reason all of this amused me and I sat quietly on him, asking again, willing him forward with all my best intentions.

My teacher Martha mentioned that I would need to use everything I had ever heard in the Centered Riding® clinics to be successful with Junior; she also mentioned that I was already doing much better with him than the previous “advanced” level rider! I felt myself swell with pride, but pretended to take it in stride. That type of comment, properly timed, can certainly build confidence, and since Martha is not known to hand those out routinely, it enhanced the effect and I took it to heart. Center, breathe, soft eyes, ease and release the neck, don’t react, just repeat.

In fits and starts we began to walk. Still determined to show my independence and leadership, I asked him to circle away from the group in the large outdoor ring. A dead stop followed and we began again. Hummmm, she did mention that he liked to follow the other horses, so I decided to let him see the others as we picked up a trot; once we established our rhythm and he was fast approaching the rear of the horse ahead I guided him to cross the ring, determined to keep my clear intent. And cross the ring is just what we did, blending smoothly in to trot merrily along the rail.

With a matchmaker’s skill, Martha casually dropped a few choice comments: he’s always been one of her favorites, he’s just a big teddy bear, and the not-so-subtle wouldn’t you two look great galloping around together . . . love was in the air. Seriously, once we got moving, Junior was a very nice little horse (little is a relative term where a few hundred pounds here or there define the gradations). I felt very comfortable with him, felt his appreciation for my sensitive yet firm approach, my compassion for him, and my good-natured acceptance of his just being a horse, testing me because that is what they do!

This week, after our second class together, I began to wonder about my beloved – is he a chestnut, or maybe a sorrel, yes that sounds romantic – he could be a sorrel. (No, Martha says he is a chestnut!). Memories surfaced of the curiosity that comes along with courtship . . . it is a kind of love affair, isn’t it?

No, that is not Junior shown above, but another redhead: Annelie’s chestnut mare Abby who I had the pleasure of meeting during my first year of riding. Easy-going Abby knew I was a “pushover” at that point and took advantage of my green-ness to eat all the grass she wanted as I delicately attempted to persuade her otherwise!

always saddle your own horse

My aikido and horse riding friend from Boston, Midge, emailed me a very tempting video -- somehow I had a feeling that it would be better to wait and watch it in the comfort of my own home. So tonight I sat down to enjoy the trailer of the American Cowgirl, and cried like a baby through all three viewings so far.

Really touching is the profile of 101-year-young Connie Reeves, who at that age was still riding every day!

“The past is dead unless somebody records it…my life’s not important to very many people. But, what I have done may be something that will motivate someone else. I hope so.” - Connie Reeves

From the story “A Cowgirl’s Final Ride” in the St. Petersburg Times Floridian, published at her death:

"Initially she meant just that: 'Saddle your own horse, develop a relationship with your horse,' said Meg Clark. But as with everything that Connie said, it had a much greater meaning, just as her life did. Ultimately, what she meant was: 'Take responsibility for your life. Saddle your own horse and live that life the way you choose to.'"

Enjoy the trailer embedded above and visit the American Cowgirl website to read the many wonderful stories and see the great photographs by creator Jamie Williams.

nothing doing

As soon as I finished telling my student that the Alexander Technique does not prescribe specific exercises, I realized that he might be very interested in something called “constructive rest.” Sometimes called an “Alexander Lie-Down” and often used by AT teachers, it came originally from the world of Ideokinesis. Here is a link to one good description of the process on the website of Andrea Matthews, soprano and AT teacher.

Constructive rest, in its purest form -- simply lying down once or twice a day for 5-20 minutes in the described position and allowing gravity to do the work of releasing holding patterns and excess tension can be quite revealing, refreshing and restorative. The addition of simple suggestions, such as to allow the neck to be free, can enhance the procedure, as long as we do not add a component of trying to accomplish something -- nothing doing!

Basic procedure:

“Lie on your back, bend your knees to about 90 degrees, and place your feet on the floor in line with your hip sockets, 12 to 16 inches from your buttocks. Be careful not to flatten or exaggerate the curves in either your lumbar (lower back) or cervical (neck) spine. Rest your hands and forearms on your rib cage or on your pelvis. In this position, you don't need to perform any muscular action. Gravity will do the work. Shift your awareness to the support of your bones. Begin by sensing the weight of your bones sinking down toward the floor. Take note of any part of your skeleton that feels as though it is suspended, any place where the muscular contraction prevents the bones from surrendering to the pull of gravity. Gradually, the distribution of weight will start to feel increasingly even throughout your body.” --Adapted from Liz Koch, the psoas expert

Try it for a few minutes a day and see what you notice. I’ve found constructive rest useful in bringing me a more refined awareness of my back and the space behind me (horse riders, you understand the importance of that!) and also for showing me the positive effects of gravity while sensing the skeleton as the body’s active support (in contrast to our habitual patterns which usually attempt to hold the body with muscular effort).

Turns out, my catchy title is also the name of the last book of poetry by Cid Corman, Nothing/Doing, in which I discovered this apropos piece:

Just resting –

letting the

breezes make

something of

a body.

The concept of non-doing, so foreign to our goal and achievement-oriented culture, is expressed in the Japanese calligraphy ”mu” above: “Nothingness is not an absence of being; it is the fullness of existence that brings forth all things. One meaning of MU is not to be captivated or beguiled by this or that; the way of Zen is found within the interplay of "no" and "yes," "nothingness" and "fullness."