Tuesday, November 11, 2008

called back to basics

Above is a photo of my home office showing the place where I (used to) sit each morning, catching up on emails, sipping coffee, watching the sunrise over lower Manhattan. . . If I had been sitting there yesterday morning around 9:00 am, I am not certain I would be writing this now.


My experiences at the Centered Riding International Educational Symposium in Brattleboro, Vermont this past weekend confirmed my feeling that it is time to expand the structure of this cyber “space” I have so enjoyed inhabiting. Although the events of yesterday put a slight kink in my plans, stay tuned for two additional spaces with links here (to follow). One will present information and capture reflections specific to the Alexander Technique and another separate space will do the same for Aikido.


In the meantime, below are links to pertinent entries on this blog regarding the Alexander Technique (you can also view the blog by category – choose one from the sidebar, or you can search using the box in the upper left-hand corner). The Alexander Technique bibliography provided at the Symposium, as well as the visual essay I used to illustrate the concept of "use of self" are available HERE . See Website Links in the sidebar for some Alexander Technique-related websites of interest.


This morning, I awoke before dawn and drank my coffee sitting on the floor of my study, reflecting on the scene before me. The debris had not been touched and I was trying to glean something from the juxtaposition of the books (formerly from the top three wall-to-wall shelves above my desk which had come tumbling down). I saw it as a kind of casting of the Runes. What message might I decipher by meditating on how the titles had arranged themselves? Their subjects differed, but they were all somehow related: Albinus on Anatomy, Light on Yoga, The Ease of Being, A Course in Miracles, Beelzebub’s Tales to his Grandson, Vibrational Medicine, The Practice of Freedom, to name only a few. It struck me that this could have been a close call -- or maybe it was a wake-up call.


The Symposium was so very rich with inspiration and information and supportive friends, new and old. I was extremely honored (and more than a bit intimidated) to be sharing the Alexander Technique portion, along with an amazing group of presenters on other bodywork modalities, consisting mainly of senior Centered Riding instructors – all incredibly knowledgeable and highly creative and seasoned teachers. I learned a lot and, in addition, for me it was a call back to basics – a call to get back on the mat and renew my Aikido training which has been interrupted by a stint of PT rehab for a shoulder injury; a call to continue to deepen my understanding of Centered Riding and an impetus to continue to grow in my teaching and expand my relationships with my Alexander colleagues in the wider world.


Entries with an Alexander Technique perspective:

a moment, with Marj

fitness without stress

mind like water

weaving in the threads

axis mundi

imprisoned splendour

swing time

better living through imagery

buoyancy

greater than the sum

first things first

poise

harmonyincludes video of aikido women instructors (myself included!)


Saturday, November 1, 2008

gypsy in my soul

Around Halloween especially, I fondly remember my Grandma Pauline, who always took such great joy in preparing us for this particular holiday, with its pagan roots. She was certainly a colorful character in my life, in stark contrast to my other grandparents who will have a dedicated entry with a photo which should be titled "American Gothic." When I shared this poem with my mother several years ago, she commented, "well, you know, it's all true!"

Last night, as I traveled home on the subway after working late, the car filled with an amazing assortment of creatively costumed New Yorkers of varying ages, I recalled my poem of remembrance and the photo of her shown above, inherited on a recent trip to the Midwest.


Pauline

my father’s mother loved to dress us up as gypsies


traveled with the carnival, hair always permed and red, toenails too
first husband alcoholic, second husband flew hot air balloons
but was killed in a car accident


wore Tabu and costume jewelry with rhinestones and plastic feathers
sewed her own clothes -- I remember that chartreuse polyester blouse
a zipper up the front, a gold metallic fish dangling from the tab

watched religiously The Edge of Night and As the World Turns
barmaid by profession, smoked and drank beer
had a series of Pekinese dogs, each one bad with children
and always named “Ty-Gee”

lived in a trailer surrounded by her garden
philodendrons in donkey-with-cart planters
were trained to grow around the entire inside
of that place

gold plaster elephants up on hind legs trunks curled
matte finish with tiny shiny drops all over them
lived on either side of her couch
a framed print torn from a calendar:
dogs around a table playing poker

she often wore a two-piece bathing suit

once a year we put on the red tiered skirts
with pink and turquoise rickrack trim
draped in scarves, hair flowing free
we became her gypsy band

husky voice, laughed a lot
she lived her gypsy life

and she told me I had rosebud lips
as she painted them bright and deep

Friday, October 24, 2008

like the wind

The wind of heaven is that which blows between a horse's ears
~ Arabian Proverb ~

“How did you ride last night? Someone will invariably ask me this on a Wednesday, since many of my friends know how much I cherish my Tuesday evening rides at Lord Stirling Stable. Sometimes I laugh and report that I drew “Garfield” the pony and he really got the best of me – say no more! But sometimes I answer with “I rode like the wind”, only half-joking, because when you first learn to canter and you join with the horse’s motion taking you ‘round and ‘round the big outdoor ring in the crisp autumn air – that is really how it feels. And never more so than last night, riding my favorite paint horse, “Amigo.” A cold front moving through with a brisk wind gusting from the north roused the horses out of their usual subdued states and we had an especially lively class, yet without incident.

It was a ride where things “came together” and everything simply felt good. I seemed to have chosen just the proper clothes, the right number of layers to keep me cozy, yet still able to enjoy the freshness and the exhilaration of the wind. My stirrups seemed the perfect length, my hip joints flexible, my pelvis relaxed, my center low and my attention easily re-centering me when necessary. Time and space opened up and I found I could play with noticing how soft my joints could become on the down of the posting trot or could remind myself to free my neck, soften my eyes, breathe – and smile! No worries intruded and I found myself to be very present. No fear welled up, as sometimes happens -- old scares triggered by a fast trot or sudden movement of the horse. Last night I felt calm and fearless.

When you sit astride a 1,000 pound creature and sense the power and grace contained within, you know you are interacting with a “force of nature” -- an expression sometimes used to describe a gifted athlete or a person of great charisma. You begin to realize the wisdom in cooperative leadership -- blending with, going with, joining with or becoming as one and then exploring how to assert influence and give direction without disturbing that connection.

The dust swirled in miniature tornadoes and stray fallen leaves danced around cheerfully. My mood seemed to feed on the energy and I savored the experience throughout the hour, hoping to prolong the special time, sensing the ephemeral quality. On the walk to the car before the drive back into Manhattan, I usually take a look around and appreciate the peace of Lord Stirling Park. This week my gaze wandered somewhat wistfully out toward the lights in the distant ring where others had taken our place and were now riding . . . like the wind.

“Air is not one of the traditional five Chinese classical elements. Nevertheless, the ancient Chinese concept of Qi or chi is believed to be close to that of air. Qi . . . also ch'i or ki (in Japanese romanization), is a fundamental concept of traditional Chinese culture. Qi is believed to be part of every living thing that exists, as a kind of 'life force' or ‘spiritual energy’. It is frequently translated as ‘energy flow’, or literally as ‘air’ or ‘breath’. (For example, ‘tiānqì’, literally ‘sky breath’, is the ordinary Chinese word for ‘weather’).” – From Wikipedia

Searching for a photo to capture my feelings, I found an image from the website of a family living in the San Francisco Bay Area -- here one of their teenage daughters lives my dream of galloping down an open beach (photo cropping and enhancement mine).

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

mind like water

For many years the background image on my Alexander Technique business card has been a beautiful “water drop” photo, suggesting the expansion of awareness and energy which takes place in a person who applies the principles of the technique in their activities. By taking a split-second to notice the possibility of ease where the head rests atop the spine, at the moment just before a movement is initiated, the quality of the movement can be substantially improved.

“Mind like water” is also a metaphor used in the martial arts to describe an ideal state of quiet readiness. It is similar to the Chinese concept of Wu Wei, which was discussed here under “The Power of Connection,” and speaks about appropriate levels of effort and proper timing as well. David Allen uses it in his next-generation time management method which has achieved a near-cult-like following, “Getting Things Done” (aka GTD). His system holds the promise that it is possible to both stay relaxed and accomplish meaningful things with minimal effort. GTD provides tools and concepts which, when practically applied, help keep our minds empty of extraneous detail so we can function from that calm, still place. From the book:

“Imagine throwing a pebble into a still pond. How does the water respond? The answer is, totally appropriately to the force and mass of the input; then it returns to calm. It doesn’t overreact or underreact. . . . Anything that causes you to overreact or underreact can control you. . . .Most people either give more or less attention to things than they deserve, simply because they don’t operate with a ‘mind like water.’”

I have long known that Alexander’s discovery brings us the possibility of choice – how will we respond to a stimulus? According to habit? Or will we remember to take a moment and allow the possibility of a different response to emerge? Will we react out of habit and will that cause us to have an over-reaction, an under-reaction or make an appropriate response? Learning the Alexander Technique is a process of finding the moments of potential which occur immediately before a change in activity and developing the dexterity to take a split-second and notice ease before making our response.

Those of you who are involved with horses will recognize that learning to make the appropriate response at the proper moment with just the right level of energy forms the basis of the interaction we have with them which is called “riding.” In the best moments of my aikido training, I find that calm place where I can blend smoothly with my attacker. Many years of re-training my initial reaction to an oncoming aggressive movement allows me to choose a calm, appropriate and effective response. Time spent on the aikido mat reprogramming reactions carries over into my daily life. Having a practical foundation in the Alexander Technique has certainly influenced my martial arts training and I am hoping, and beginning to find, that creating space for an appropriate response is teaching me a lot about horses.

In the above photo, taken with my iPhone last autumn from our kayak on the lake at Mohonk Mountain House, the still water responds with subtle rhythmic movements and a lovely reflection of the stunning surrounding foliage.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

look into their eyes

The platform and the cars of the subway were eerily empty this morning – quite a contrast to yesterday’s crushing commute when New Yorkers exhibited not-their-best behavior, pushing into the packed train and tossing rude comments back and forth. This morning, before I left the house, we exchanged a few words: “you know it’s 9/11, yes, I’m running late, the subway has been a nightmare, not looking forward to that, call you later" etc. My preoccupations kept me from kissing him goodbye.

As soon as I hit the street I felt it. The past few years I’ve tried to pretend that this day could be just like any other day again. But it never is and the tears welled up, as they invariably do, and I headed down into the subway, wondering what I would find. Wouldn’t you know that I found I missed them, all of those New Yorkers. Where was everyone today? Were they afraid to ride the train, right at this time, the time the first plane hit? Were they home watching the ceremonies at Ground Zero on TV? Were they grieving loved ones lost?

As I took stock of the other riders I wondered if we should be nervous. Was I imagining the mood to be somber? Remember, after 9/11, when you could sit on the train and cry, and know you wouldn’t be alone in that -- not have to feel awkward or know why you were crying. We were all crying in our own way. And during that time we actually looked at each other. You felt you could speak to people and you knew you could ask for help if you needed it. You knew you would give help, if asked. The world had changed and New Yorkers started looking into each others eyes.

“Shouldn’t we be doing something special today?” my co-worker asked this morning, her eyes reddening as she turned to her calculations and spreadsheets. I said I might meet a friend for coffee – someone I had watched the TV with at work as the second plane hit that day. We had left the office together and bought flip-flops for the long walk home. She talked about her best friend from high school whose brother died in the Towers, seven years ago. He would have children by now she mused -- he had been engaged to be married. We all know someone. Each year we hear the stories, old and new.

Tonight at home when I stand quietly at a south-facing window and look downtown, I’ll see the gap in the skyline, filled this week with the beautiful and symbolic tower of light. I’ll remember the heavy smoke and the long-lingering odor of that dark time. And I suspect, like many New Yorkers, the day will have been marked yet again by a very personal mourning and reflection and possibly a remembrance of the softening and opening of our hearts, and our eyes.

The photo above was taken to promote a recital my daughter sang in June, 2002. We were not trying to capture the flag which appears on the subway car, but somehow it seemed appropriate – a full year had not yet passed since 9/11 and a certain special patriotism was still very much apparent here in New York.


Hear her album "Maya's Idyll" here.

Thursday, September 4, 2008

weaving in the threads


Right about this time last year, I was still quite intoxicated from that first Centered Riding® Clinic, which was attended when I could almost still count my riding lessons on one hand, and I had to think about how to hold the reins each time I got on the horse. I knew that Centered Riding would change my life, but could never have imagined the depth of the process which was initiated over those four days.

Many of the patient teachers I met then have become my instructors at Lord Stirling Stable and the clinician, Gail Field, has become a friend, Alexander Technique colleague and riding mentor. The early entries on this blog document my meeting with the infamous Annelie, now my dear friend, horse riding idol and most recently, aikido protégé. More than one fellow aikidoist has been inspired by my stories of learning to ride. One has started Centered Riding lessons herself, riding again for the first time in over 30 years.

Last year, one of my aikido women role models, Karen De Paola (Skylands Aikikai), visited me at the Lord Stirling clinic and immediately saw the correlations between the groundwork tools and aikido principles and began making connections to specific aikido techniques. She gave me the timely opportunity to teach at her dojo that evening – a precious hour to take some of what I had been so eagerly absorbing in the riding arena onto the aikido mat. And so the year continued -- with synergy and synchronicity abounding.

It has been a year full of new friendships, renewed relationships, reconnecting important pieces from my past, and integrating parts of myself. I have been very fortunate to attend a variety of Centered Riding clinics and to meet the founder, Sally Swift, last November at the International Symposium in Vermont. So, it was a very happy anniversary last week as I once again attended Gail’s annual clinic at Lord Stirling. This year she asked me to assist her with some hands-on Alexander Technique, I traveled back and forth with Annelie and hosted her at my house, we spent each day in an arena which has come to feel like home and I rode a now-familiar horse.

This process of learning to ride seems to be weaving together all the various threads of my life. It has reminded me of long-forgotten childhood experiences, reconnected me to old colleagues and friends and enhanced and reinvigorated my aikido training. A recent email from a new Alexander Technique mentor, Tommy Thompson, spoke to me about “following your thread carefully” – it's a metaphor which has particular meaning for me now.

Karen De Paola is shown in the video above. Karen has always been a great inspiration to me – she embodies the qualities of calm, relaxed concentration and stillness within movement which are so important in martial arts, horse riding and living!

Friday, August 22, 2008

welcome to middle-earth

photo © Asni
It is dusk on a perfect evening in late summer, a full orange moon is rising, and we are leaving the confines of Lord Stirling Stable, heading down a broad grassy path, past the outdoor riding rings, towards the trail system at the far edge of the property. It’s getting darker by the minute.

The night is balmy, the humidity is down and so are the bugs, except for a couple of “bombers,” the huge flies which like to plague both horses and riders. We have our orders: let them land on your horse, smack them with a flat palm, and then, if possible, squish them -- luckily, only our instructor executes that maneuver! We turn our attention to the bats which flitter above us. A screech owl calls from the distance and rabbits stop frozen in their tracks.

We shift our weight forward to make it easier for the horses to climb the steep hill which leads up into the trees. As we enter, I am surprised that we can see anything at all inside – am I still in New Jersey? My eyes adjust and suddenly transported, I find myself in a fern-carpeted forest – majestic, yet intimate. The horses seem content but not overly-impressed – after all it’s not their first trail ride.

We approach a tangle of trees, following our instructor as she weaves through them – a rustic obstacle course. My horse trips, stumbles deeply, but regains his balance. As a slight squeak of surprise escapes my lips, the teacher reminds us that we must always keep our eyes up on the trail, shining out like car headlights on high-beam. And we must keep our awareness of our center low and close to the horse.

Lord Stirling Park borders The Great Swamp, a 7,500 acre wildlife preserve. Our instructor makes sure to let us know that we are approaching the area known as the hiding place of the Devil of the Great Swamp, and some of the younger set of riders express an uncharacteristic hesitation to continue on -- usually they want to do nothing but canter like mad around the inside arena. However, soon we are trotting, up the trail, through the dark, ducking the low-hanging branches and marveling at ourselves -- at least I am! And I am incredibly relaxed despite it all.

Riding a horse out in nature – somehow this feels just perfect. Then I realize it is also distantly familiar, reminiscent of the ponies we used to rent from the neighboring farmer for 50¢ during those childhood summers at Clear Lake -- we would ride them through the woods bareback, by ourselves, on the unkempt trails, before the era of helmets or waiver forms. Sometimes they would brush us off against a tree and simply trot back to the barn.

Tolkien said that "Middle-earth was not at a physically distant time, but rather 'at a different stage of imagination.'" Now, just as I celebrate the one-year anniversary of that first clinic, which introduced me to both Centered Riding® and Lord Stirling Stable, I begin to imagine a whole new dimension of riding.

The lovely photo above captures the mystical quality I experienced when we first entered the forest. “It was just like something out of Lord of the Rings” I told my friends. Sure enough, I somehow found the image
I was looking for in the work of Asni -- harpist, photographer and Tolkien aficionado currently living in New Zealand (photo above taken in Germany and used with her permission). Please visit her website to see her other beautiful images and listen to her magical music, including her new album "Travels in Middle-earth."

Thursday, August 21, 2008

tally ho with Balimo™

What a great opportunity I thought when I noticed the clinic announcement on the Equestrian Education Systems (EES) website early last spring – and it was! For the past week or so I have been digesting some of the rich experience of attending the “Seat Symposium” which was held at Gleneden Dressage in Bedford, New York and conducted by Eckart Meyners, German sports physiologist and professor at the Institute for Leisure Research, Play and Movement Education (sounds like fun!) at the University of Luneburg, Germany.

Mr. Meyners is also the inventor of the Balance in Motion or “Balimo™” chair, a fascinating balance and flexibility training tool. However, I discovered over the course of the weekend that learning to use the Balimo chair is only a small part of his method for working with riders. Drawing upon the work of Moshé Feldenkrais he uses deceptively simple movement sequences to re-program habitual patterns of body use. The process creates more fluid, supple and responsive riders – evidenced both in the improved movement of the horse under saddle and the increased harmony between rider and horse.

Having now experienced Mr. Meyners’ work in person, his books are proving evermore useful and inspiring. Here is a passage which so captured my attention that I missed my subway stop! It’s another piece of the puzzle which has challenged me – how to feel grounded and stable atop the horse:

“The rider’s inner eye . . . should feel the weight of the head traveling down through the center of the body, gaining weight from the body as it goes downward. When this weight reaches the rider’s pelvis, it splits and continues down both legs and out the heels. While the body weight is traveling downward due to gravity’s force, the rider appears to be carrying her upper body upright and flexible, like a puppet with strings in the clouds. Meanwhile the pelvis is following the motion of the horse.”

As the above information sinks in, I am finding that my experience of standing on the earth is changing, as is my sense of connection to the ground while riding. In addition to paying attention to the poise of my head, I also notice that its weight is quite tangible – I call it ‘heavy in a good way.’ I don't have to interfere with the poise of my head to allow its weight to sink down through my bones, all the way to my feet, through my heels, down into the earth. A circuit is established, like plugging in a light, because as the weight flows down, an energy also rises back up through me. Paradoxically, the acceptance of the weight of the head, allows the bones to fulfill their function of support, yet also confers a sense of buoyancy and ease. It is intriguing to feel light and heavy at the same time!

Upcoming posts here will share more of the invaluable insights of Eckart Meyners.
The Balimo™ or “Balance in Motion” chair is shown above with lines drawn to illustrate the type of movements possible while seated on it (virtually limitless planes of motion). Even a short period of use brought substantially increased awareness of the “seat” bones, balance (or lack of it!) and movement potential of the whole pelvis.

Friday, August 1, 2008

beautiful, positive, dynamic


Yamada Sensei paused during his Tuesday morning class at the United States Aikido Federation Summer Camp (taking place this week at Stockton College near Atlantic City) to share with us what he feels are the most important aspects of the art.

Here is my interpretation of what he said:
It was only moderately surprising to me to hear him say that, first of all and most importantly, Aikido must be beautiful. That’s my Sensei, I thought – and he has been for nearly 25 years. The grace and symmetry of the movements and a fascination with the interaction have certainly been primary for me, with interest in the martial application developing gradually and a bit later. Now I see that the quality of beauty is not separate from the martial aspect. The elegance is pure physics, probably much the same as when mathematicians refer to certain proofs as “elegant.” Economy and purity of motion produce martial effectiveness.

Aikido must also be positive and this Yamada Sensei demonstrated for us very clearly. By contrasting proper extension, expansion and forward movement with the opposite effects of pulling in with the arms or moving backwards, he looked for a moment like a mere mortal rather than the larger-than-life figure we are used to experiencing on the mat.

Finally he reminded us that Aikido must be dynamic. He emphasized that each technique must have a memorable beginning and a clear ending. As a musician, I know the importance of dynamic variation, and as it happened, Sensei gave the example of a Beethoven symphony he had been listening to that morning – it begins with a strong statement and it has a shape. A trip to the dictionary reminded me that the term “dynamic” relates to energy or to objects in motion, is characterized by continuous change (emphasis mine) and is marked by intensity and vigor.

Although English is not Yamada Sensei’s native language, I believe he succinctly and completely described his Aikido – I can only imagine how eloquent his thoughts might be in Japanese.

The video clip above is from a series of instructional tapes by Yamada Sensei with Donovan Waite taking ukemi. It fully illustrates the beautiful, positive and dynamic qualities of the art of Aikido.

Friday, July 25, 2008

axis mundi

Also known as cosmic axis, world axis, world pillar and center of the world – this is a symbol found in throughout all cultures. It describes the “turning point of the world: line through the earth's center around which the universe revolves.”

“The human body can express the symbol of world axis. Some of the more abstract Tree of Life representations, such as the
Sefirot in Kabbalism and in the Chakra system recognized by Hinduism and Buddhism, merge with the concept of the human body as a pillar between heaven and earth. Disciplines such as Yoga and Tai Chi begin from the premise of the human body as axis mundi. . . . World religions regard the body itself as a temple and prayer as a column uniting earth to heaven. . . . . The Renaissance image known as the Vitruvian Man represented a symbolic and mathematical exploration of the human form as world axis.” --Wikipedia

ax·is

1: a straight line about which a body or a geometric figure rotates or may be supposed to rotate
2: the second vertebra of the neck on which the head and first vertebra turn as on a pivot
3: a main line of direction, motion, growth, or extension
4: a point or continuum on which something centers - an axis of . . . power

Recently a number of experiences have reinforced my perception of my own axis. A Chi Kung class for aikidoists with Robert Tangora left me with a tangible new impression of my center as part of an energy channel. We used the image of a column of light which passed through the top of our heads, through our bodies straight down into the earth, all the while the same column of light streamed upwards. When we were able to keep the image clearly in our minds, our partners found us impossibly strong and virtually immoveable.

When I started learning to ride in earnest last autumn, I excitedly told an Alexander Technique colleague that expert riders direct energy not only up through the spine but downwards as well, and they do both at the same time. They use the spine like an integrated tool extending it in both directions from their center. He found this somewhat difficult to imagine, as did I, although my eyes were already telling me it was true.

Now my lessons with several different Centered Riding instructors all seem to have a common theme – and the theme has to do with learning to use both ends of the spine – the whole spine, and portions of the spine! It also has to do with isolating what the pelvis is doing from what the upper body is doing – even though the activity is integrated and the parts are interdependent. The tricky part is that in fact, when I "try" to accomplish any of the above directly I do not have much success. Once again I find that the whole is much greater than the sum of the parts -- so how shall I proceed from here?


A recent Alexander Technique lesson with Tommy Thompson in Cambridge, MA gave me a kind of correction to course and reminded me that attention to the "means whereby" would bring me much closer to the subtlety, integration and effectiveness of movement which is necessary in riding.

The beautiful photo above of the legendary ballerina Alexandra Danilova graphically illustrates the human body organized around the vertical axis.

Sunday, July 13, 2008

imprisoned splendour

The words resonate deeply. They speak of the perfection within each of us which is locked away from expression – my interpretation is that it is our accumulated habits that prevent our true nature from emerging – habits of thinking, habits of moving with excess effort and tension, and habitual emotional reactions. All these we begin to develop from the moment of our birth. I am interested in how to strip away the layers of accumulation.

What types of activities work to dissolve or neutralize the ‘baffling…carnal mesh’ which obscures the truth of the ‘inmost centre’? This is a very personal journey for each of us. My approach includes the activities I explore in this space – application of the Alexander Technique, Aikido training, and most recently, my relationship with horses – all of which have an enhanced ability to return me to the present moment, again and again.

Now I leave it to the power of the poetry to share its personal meaning with you:

Truth is within ourselves; it takes no rise
From outward things, whate’er you may believe.
There is an inmost centre in us all,
Where truth abides in fullness; and around,
Wall upon wall, the gross flesh hems it in,
This perfect, clear perception—which is truth.
A baffling and perverting carnal mesh
Binds it, and makes all error: and, to know,
Rather consists in opening out a way
Whence the imprisoned splendour may escape,
Than in effecting entry for a light
Supposed to be without.

--From Paracelsus by Robert Browning

Many hours were spent searching for an image to complement this entry. The face of a weathered stone angel shown above emanates an eerie radiance. Ironically, it was found on a science website illustrating the effects of acid rain.
Photographer: Michael Drager | Agency: Dreamstime.com

Sunday, July 6, 2008

free running




Thanks to Jami Wallace for alerting me to this documentary (clip above) to air on the Documentary Channel tomorrow evening. The film can also be purchased on their website (link in the sidebar). Here is the text of the article from TheHorse.com:

"Sheryl Crow is urging people to get involved in saving America's wild horses.

'I think it will be a real shame when we look back and we don't have these incredible species, and I guess my best hope would be that people, individuals, step up at this point and really protect these animals,' the 46-year-old Grammy-winning singer says in an upcoming documentary, 'Saving the American Wild Horse.'

The program airs 9 p.m. EST Monday (July 7) on the Documentary Channel. Directed by James Kleinert, it's narrated by Peter Coyote and features Viggo Mortensen.

Crow, who lives in Tennessee and owns a wild mustang named Colorado, says the animals are part of American history but are being sacrificed in big business' drive for Western lands.

'We're starting to get really, really far away from our heritage and what this country is based on,' she says.

The documentary examines the Bureau of Land Management's policies regarding wild horses on public lands and includes interviews with ranchers, historians, animal rights activists, environmentalists, and others.

'If any of these politicians visited these sites where our indigenous animals are being slaughtered in an inhumane way and being sold for meat, I feel that there would be a different take and a different approach to what's happening,' Crow says."

Thursday, July 3, 2008

America's horses

An email from one of my riding friends begins: “I know this sounds like a small thing compared to Zimbabwe, Darfur, etc., but we are all parts of the whole . . . the wild horse is an endangered species.”

From the American Wild Horse Preservation Campaign:


“The Bureau of Land Management’s (BLM) Wild Horse and Burro Advisory Board met on Monday. In our pre-meeting alert, we had expressed grave concerns over BLM’s plans, asking whether “kill authority” was next on BLM's misguided agenda. Lo and behold, BLM came out and announced it is now considering simply putting to death 'excess' wild horses! How did it come to this?

In 2001, BLM obtained a 50% increase in annual budget for implementation of an aggressive removal campaign. 24,000 horses were slated for capture, with no long-term plan for their welfare. Now, predictably, the federal agency finds itself in the untenable positions of warehousing over 30,000 horses (more than remain in the wild); the funding it wants to save by euthanizing our wild horses was wasted on years of unnecessary round-ups to cater to special interests.

6 million head of private livestock graze our public lands and BLM wants us to believe that 25,000 wild horses are overpopulating the range? Removals are based on flawed and biased data; BLM itself admitted at Monday’s meeting that not even its censusing techniques are accurate. In 2005, while in the process of rounding up thousands of horses supposedly due to poor range conditions, BLM eased public land grazing restrictions for private cattle.

BLM’s irresponsible approach to wild horse management created the problem, and the agency is now asking the American public to swallow a very bitter pill, all the while continuing to round up horses by the thousands (2,000 are slated to come off the Nevada range in the coming weeks alone).

America cannot let this stand. Congress is in recess for Independence Day week, but stay tuned for a national action plan next week. On behalf of America’s horses, thank you for your support at this critical time.”

--From The AWHPC Team

The photo above comes directly from the website of the American Wild Horse Preservation Campaign. It's a gorgeous photo, and I wanted to make sure to depict the real thing.

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

optimist's anthem


Can’t seem to stop thinking of the little colt I met this past weekend – depending on your age, you may remember the song which is running through my head:

Oh, I’m bein’ followed by a moonshadow, moonshadow, moonshadow
Leapin’ and hoppin’ on a moonshadow, moonshadow, moonshadow

And if I ever lose my hands, lose my plough, lose my land,
Oh if I ever lose my hands, oh if.... I won’t have to work no more.
And if I ever lose my eyes, if my colours all run dry,
Yes if I ever lose my eyes, oh if.... I won’t have to cry no more.

And if I ever lose my legs, I won’t moan, and I won’t beg,
Yes if I ever lose my legs, oh if.... I won’t have to walk no more.
And if I ever lose my mouth, all my teeth, north and south,
Yes if I ever lose my mouth, oh if.... I won’t have to talk...

Did it take long to find me? I asked the faithful light.
Did it take long to find me? And are you gonna stay the night?

-- Cat Stevens, 1970

From the website Song Facts:

"Stevens wrote this about finding hope in any situation. Be present and joyful. See life as it is, right now, and don't compare it to others' lives, or other times in your life. Every moment in life is rich and unique; whether we are aware of it or not, we are always leaping and hopping on a moonshadow - the inescapable present moment. If we are wrapped up in our whirlpools of worry and concern about what could be, or what has been, we are missing the richness of life as it is.

Stevens has in recent years called this song the 'Optimist's Anthem.'"

A wonderful name – I liked it very much – quite poetic I thought, but it was not until I saw the picture I had taken above that I suddenly understood why he was named “Moonshadow” – he is the first baby horse I’ve personally met, my first colt. One month old, he embodied pure innocence and sweetness and they practically had to drag me from his stall at the end of our riding retreat at Sam Morrison’s Welcome Home Farm in Greene, Maine this past weekend.

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

one smart pony - Molly's story

Here is the text of an email forwarded by Annelie – I have added a few other links at the end, and found a video as well:

Meet *Molly*.........

She's a gray speckled pony who was abandoned by her owners, when Katrina hit southern Louisiana, USA. She spent weeks on her own before finally being rescued and taken to a farm where abandoned animals were stockpiled. While there, she was attacked by a pit bull terrier, and almost died. Her gnawed right front leg became infected and her vet went to LSU for help. But LSU was overwhelmed, and this pony was a welfare case. You know how that goes.

But after surgeon Rustin Moore met Molly, he changed his mind. He saw how the pony was careful to lie down on different sides so she didn't seem to get sores, and how she allowed people to handle her. She protected her injured leg. She constantly shifted her weight, and didn't overload her good leg. She was a smart pony with a serious survival ethic. Moore agreed to remove her leg below the knee and a temporary artificial limb was built. Molly walked out of the clinic and her story really begins there.

'This was the right horse and the right owner,' Moore insists. Molly happened to be a one-in-a-million patient. She's tough as nails, but sweet, and she was willing to cope with pain. She made it obvious she understood (that) she was in trouble. The other important factor, according to Moore , is having a truly committed and compliant owner who is dedicated to providing the daily care required over the lifetime of the horse.

Molly's story turns into a parable for life in post-Katrina Louisiana . The little pony gained weight, her mane felt a comb. A human prosthesis designer built her a leg. The prosthetic has given Molly a whole new life, Allison Barca DVM, Molly's regular vet, reports. And she asks for it! She will put her little limb out, and come to you and let you know that she wants you to put it on. Sometimes she wants you to take it off too.' And sometimes, Molly gets away from Barca...'It can be pretty bad when you can't catch a three-legged horse', she laughs.

Most important of all, Molly now has a job. Kay, the rescue farm owner, started taking Molly to shelters, hospitals, nursing homes, & rehabilitation centers -- anywhere she thought that people needed hope. Wherever Molly goes, people observe her great courage & spirit. She really inspires people, and she has a great time doing it!

'It was obvious to me, that Molly had a bigger role to play in life', Moore said. 'She survived the hurricane, she survived a horrible injury, and now she is giving hope to others!
'She's not quite back to normal yet,' says Barca, 'But she is continually improving. To me, she is a symbol of New Orleans itself.'

Article from TheHorse.com - join for free to read complete article.

HoofBlog's entry about Molly.

Monday, June 23, 2008

artistic riding

As a child I spent quite a lot of time upside down -- bouncing on trampolines and tumbling at the local rec center or springing off diving boards at the swim club -- that is when I wasn’t climbing trees, playing touch football in the street, or barreling down hills on my bike – activities which resulted in several memorable trips to the emergency room. Given my proclivities, it is probably better that I knew nothing of the sport of equestrian vaulting – that I just discovered at the end of a wonderful Susan Harris Centered Riding® Clinic which was held at Silver Dollar Stables near Princeton, NJ last weekend.

Assisting Susan was Claudia DiSanto, a CR instructor from Austria who learned to ride from her two older sisters in the Alps -- an environment she describes as “think Sound of Music.” Claudia has competed in equestrian vaulting in Europe at a very high level and at the end of the clinic she was working with the teenagers on some of the “moves.” Of course this really piqued my interest and I looked it up on YouTube the moment I got settled at the computer at home.

What a fabulous combination: the strength and agility of gymnastics, the artistry of pairs ice skating, including partnering elements of dance forms like ballet or contact improvisation – and on horseback no less. Better known in Europe the sport is gaining popularity elsewhere. The amazing equestrian show Cavalia includes a vaulting performance. As one of my friends commented, it’s the circus!

“The present name of the sport comes from the French ‘La Voltige,’ which it acquired during the Renaissance, when it was a form of riding drill and agility exercise for knights and noblemen . . . Cavalry officers introduced the sport at the 1920 Olympic Games in Antwerp as ‘Artistic Riding.’” -- Wikipedia


The video above shows not only the artistry, but the incredible popularity of the sport in Europe -- the choreography is so creative, but it does sometimes make me think: 'what will they come up with next.?!'

Friday, June 6, 2008

cat before the horse

Headline: Odd pair proves you can put the CAT before the HORSE

Tigger the cat loves to horse around with his big pal Annie – and play nuzzle the muzzle. Their unusual relationship is the talk of the barnyard at the Victoria, Australia, home of contractor Jack Bellman.

“Tigger is a nasty old cat, who will bite and hiss and scratch, but he just melts around Annie,” says Jack. The paddock pals bonded immediately. The 3-year-old feisty feline loves to jump on the rail fence for a tête-à-tête with 2-year-old Annie.

“They have formed an incredible attachment,” says their owner. Tigger even sleeps in Annie’s food bin. Concludes an amazed Jack: “They are real buddies.”

Apparently, this is not uncommon – many horses have a stable mascot of their own – a cat, or sometimes a pony or a goat. It didn’t take long to find this
video called katt och häst (cat and horse). I thought Annelie would enjoy it and the unique Swedish folksong accompaniment (click “more” under info for a translation -- a charming children's song).

Thursday, June 5, 2008

swing time



The video above communicates volumes about universal principles of body mechanics: Tiger Woods’ golf swing captured exquisitely in slow motion. The aesthetic choices of the filmmaker underscore the classicism of the pure form and remind us why this athlete has achieved an almost mythic status. For me, the primary aesthetic factor is the sheer perfection of his “use of self.” The movement is undeniably beautiful, and it is also mesmerizing . . . I just never seem to tire of watching it.

I can’t seem to resist writing about it either: the still, stable central axis, the grounding which continues in polarity to the raising of his arms, the spiral initiated from the center of the body (pelvis) which is then made manifest, until you see it reaching from the tip of the toe all the way around to the end of the golf club. The slow motion allows us to absorb some of the peaceful expression on his face and the easy quality in his neck area. And do you have any doubt about the power unleashed here?

In looking for other instances of this kind of perfect melding of form and function which have the power to captivate, a variety come to mind – the sensitive and supple dressage rider creating balance and harmony with the horse, an aikido master effortlessly moving through multiple attackers, moments of brilliance during the NBA playoffs, “my” New York hawks soaring nearby and heading out over Central Park, a favorite image of my daughter which captures her in a carefree and buoyant moment. And of course music does this too – a Latin groove, a coloratura’s shimmering riff, a Chopin mazurka, Bill Evans, or a plaintive and haunting solo English horn.

Well what do these disparate performances have in common? Maybe we could call it a lack of separation between the “performer” and the activity. It’s not easy to describe – but you probably feel it too.

“To swing is when an individual player or ensemble performs in such a rhythmically coordinated way as to command a visceral response from the listener; an irresistible gravitational buoyancy that defies mere verbal definition.” (emphasis mine)

--from the Jazz in America website

Maybe that’s what I’m getting at. As the tune says, “it don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got that swing . . .”

Saturday, May 24, 2008

don't try this at home


Especially the part at around 2:40!

And Aikido practitioners may especially enjoy the footage between 1:15 and 1:35 . . .

Stick with it to the end of the clip and you will hear the answer to the question, "how do you do this?"

Even if you don't speak Czechoslovakian, I would recommend visiting the website of Honza Blaha and viewing the amazing photos and video clips.

Link to English translation (automated, but you can get the idea) here.

Friday, May 23, 2008

inspiration from the heartland



So subtle is the communication between Stacy Westfall and her horse that one of my non-riding Alexander Technique colleagues half-jokingly commented to me: "how does she do that, telepathy?" I was expecting him to offer his unique perspective on the movement analysis -- as he usually does -- but in this case he was almost at a loss for words.

You see, it's just Stacy and her horse here -- no saddle, no bit or bridle, and no reins!

The video on YouTube circled the globe, and soon Stacy was "discovered" and even made an appearance on The Ellen DeGeneres Show (which you can also view on YouTube)! Now the invitation I had been eyeing, to come spend some time at Westfall Horsemanship, has disappeared from the website and all the clinics offered are completely sold out -- I have a feeling I may have missed my window of opportunity here.

However, congratulations, Stacy! The recognition is certainly well-deserved, as I'm sure you will agree.

Take a look and see what you can "see."

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

a sport of kings



While visiting my daughter in Montana last month, where I found myself in some breathtakingly beautiful wild landscapes, I was inspired to purchase and devour a book called Falcon Fever by Tim Gallagher. It has only encouraged my love-affair with "my own" New York Red-tailed hawks.

One particularly vivid image from the book is a description of a falconer Gallagher met on a trip to the British Isles -- a former master of the Queen's cavalry, and a magnificent equestrian as one might imagine -- who galloped up at full speed while holding his falcon perfectly still on his gloved arm!

Enjoy this short video on the history of falconry, filmed in Wales, complete with charming accents, humor, heathered-moor scenery and accurate information too!

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

better living through imagery

“I don’t do images!” I heard one student say. Wait a minute, I’m at a Centered Riding® clinic I thought to myself. Why are they here if they don’t believe in the power of the images? Subsequent experience has shown me that CR recognizes that not all of the techniques and terminology work for every type of person. The beauty of the method is that it provides a very full toolbox of teaching techniques and encourages its teachers to sensitively adapt and experiment to find the best image or exercise for each situation.

Ideokinesis, from the Greek ideo (idea) and kinesis (movement), applies mental imagery to facilitate movement, improve body awareness and alignment and re-program movement patterns.

One website, Ideokinesis.com, recognizes Sally Swift, the founder of Centered Riding®, as a pioneer of this work. Sally’s method for teaching the art of riding is filled with incredibly creative and vibrant images which encompass both horse and rider and are designed to help the rider find ever more subtle and integrated means of influencing the horse. These rely less on isolated muscular actions and more on thought power and visualization. They help the rider envision their interaction with the horse as a synergistic whole. The rider’s re-balancing, release of tension and clarity of intention are all reflected in the movement and behavior of their highly sensitive partner, the horse.

If you do “do” images you might wish to explore some of the rich literature of Ideokinesis (you will find an extensive bibliography at Ideokinesis.com). One classic work is The Thinking Body by Mabel Todd. I am enjoying the essays in Taking Root to Fly by Irene Dowd and the book quoted below on the work of André Bernard is very accessible. Many of the exercises utilize a supine position known as “constructive rest” (familiar to both Centered Riding and Alexander Technique students) where the body is placed in a neutral, non-doing state and the mind and neural pathways become activated by the various visualizations. Applying imagery to movement is also included, and much functional anatomical knowledge is incorporated as well.

Below are several brief excerpts culled from a reminiscence of the work of André Bernard by Ursula Stricker, from Ideokinesis – A Creative Approach to Human Movement and Body Alignment:

“’Think it, imagine it, let it happen.’ With his deep, warm voice, André Bernard guided us into the heart of ideokinesis, into constructive rest . . . Layer by layer I gained access to the deepest layer, the weight-bearing structure of the bones, and over time I developed a continuous awareness of my bones. Through aligning and balancing my skeletal structure, my behavior and work habits changed and many burdensome postural patterns loosened and melted away. . . . What became familiar as a meditative, creative path of body, alignment, and movement awareness began to weave itself naturally into the dance of daily life. Routine movements became clearer, lighter, and more flowing, which to me is essential to ‘quality of life.’”

The image above was taken at Thorncroft Equestrian Center in Malvern, PA where I contributed Alexander Technique teaching to Susan Harris' Centered Riding® Instructors’ clinic in early May. Please visit their website to see some of the many special people and horses who create the warm and peaceful atmosphere at this very special place.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

the thrill of it all



Much has happened during my hiatus from this space and I finally feel refreshed and ready to share again. Encountered along the journey:

-The really big skies of Montana, pungent hot springs, yoga on horseback, BodyTalk

-A falconry penpal in Wyoming
-Eckart Meyners’ brilliant work
-Alexander Technique teaching at another Susan Harris’ Centered Riding® Instructors’ Clinic
-The honeymoon ends – first scare on horseback
-Josh Lyons, Craig Cameron and Pat Parelli do aikido with horses
-Winners of the first ten years of the World Cup competition in dressage
-Aikido of Missoula – Raso Hultgren leads with power and grace
-Taking Root to Fly – essays on ideokinesis by Irene Dowd

AND, “
The Horse” pre-exhibit opening reception at The American Museum of Natural History, here in New York City:

Having so looked forward to attending the event, I somewhat naively took the instructions as to “derby attire” very much to heart and was convinced that everyone attending (the women at least!) would be wearing some kind of amazing hat. This was my very first adventure with floral headgear and I thoroughly enjoyed the whole experience – but I was a bit disappointed that more of my fellow New Yorkers did not join in the spirit. Thanks to Lisa Garrison for giving me the opportunity to be one of the first people to tour the exhibit and also for causing me to acquire such an amazing hat that I will surely have to attend at least a polo match, if not one of the Triple Crown events, and probably collect a few more vintage head pieces in the process.

The exhibit opens this weekend and runs through January 4, 2009.

“Well . . . , Debra once again did it, this time uplifting the entire museum going public by wearing a stunning flower hat, bought at a vintage clothing store earlier in the day, to the opening of "The Horse" at The American Museum of Natural History. Though "derby attire" was suggested on the invitation, I can assure you that the New Yorkers in attendance were conservatively dressed and that Debbie was the ONLY one who entered the event with the stylish energies of a thoroughbred! She truly did her homework - reviewing the website of the Kentucky Museum of Arts and Design and coming up with the time honored tradition of wearing smashing hats! What Fun!

There were a handful of hats and pastels at the event, but none drew so many comments (and photos). Nor did anyone else genuinely befriend the policemen and their horses guarding the steps, who bid farewell to Debra on a first name basis as we descended. I was honored to escort a true inquirer into equestrian matters to this opening!”
-- Lisa Stewart Garrison

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

the power of connection




Wu Wei is about acting in synch. . . .fluidly adapting to the needs of the moment, doing only as much as is needed of exactly the right things in precisely the right time. Working this way requires a very refined ability to feel, follow, absorb, interpret and direct energy. Such a sense is only possible when things are in harmony -- in balance. Such a balance is only possible to the extent one can feel, follow, absorb, interpret and direct oneself.” (emphasis mine)

--From a thread on the T’ai Chi section of the Prairie Winds website

One week recently, I managed to spend more time on a horse than on the aikido mat. When I did get back to training, I found I was particularly sensitive to the concept of connecting with my partner and leading/following the technique to a resolution. I felt like a school horse (but without the requisite patience) and it seemed my rider (training partner) was trying to communicate with me by pushing and pulling me around with muscles and tension. Only some of my more skilled and senior partners were able to blend, connect and lead me without eliciting this reaction. And when I was executing the techniques, I noticed they were most effective when my intention was to maintain a harmonious connection, patiently resisting the urge to push, pull or try to make my partner respond in a particular way.

Learning to join or blend with an attack is the foundation of aikido training. No technique can be effectively executed without the initial awareness which connects you to your attacker. Only after you have connected, is it possible to lead them off balance and neutralize the conflict. The lead is not a pulling which engages individual muscles, but a way of using the whole body organized around the center of gravity. It has a magnetic effect – a drawing in or a seductive quality. There is a kind of stillness within the movement which leaves the aggressor unsuspectingly undisturbed. Once established, I must constantly renew my attention and awareness to maintain the connection. Excess effort breaks the link between us and gives my partner something to struggle against. It requires subtlety of feeling.

Aikido is an art transmitted through touch and mastered through conscious repetition. Description and analysis are incomplete without the kinesthetic reprogramming which takes place each time I feel the energy extend through a technique performed by one of my senior teachers or training partners. At our dojo we are especially blessed to have two direct students of the founder, O’Sensei, as our master teachers. They learned through absorbing the feeling of the art from O’Sensei, so we are receiving aikido through them, and it passes through us to those we touch in our training.

Judy Cross-Strehlke repeatedly encouraged us: “reach the feeling in your riding – don’t get stuck in the information.” The more I am able to follow her advice, the more I find my aikido experience can influence my ability to connect with my horse. In those brief moments of connection, I sense my horse as I might a less-experienced aikido training partner who is relying on me for direction and gentle guidance – they need to feel my softness, timing and clarity of intent. They wish to feel my calmness under stress and they learn through me something about power without force.

So, when does the connection actually begin? Not only does it begin before the moment of physical contact, one of my favorite aikido teachers suggests that the technique begins even before we enter the dojo. Sara and Michael Stenson of Prairie Winds Equine Massage Therapy suggest that the therapeutic treatment you offer the horse begins the moment the horse notices you. Judy told us that each morning when she opens her eyes (anywhere from 4:30 am to 6:30 am) and sits up in bed, she will invariably hear one of her horses call to her from a far off paddock still obscured by mist. Their awareness so far exceeds ours -- I think this is why they captivate me and how they have seduced me.

My first small iMovie project is in progress, intended to convey some of the flavor of connection as an aspect of aikido training (coming soon). In the meantime, above are some still images taken from informal video footage, filmed during a break between aikido classes. Jaime Kahn, a longtime friend and training partner (who is also a wonderful photographer) helped me explore connection through the wrist-grab attack and a technique called kaiten-nage.