so glad you asked

An old friend and Alexander Technique colleague, Bruce Fertman, sent me this video with an intriguing request – analyze the movement from an Aikido perspective. Bruce is comparing how differently trained people see movement.  I found this fascinating, and my answer continued to grow . . . so I thought it would live well on Riding Between Heaven and Earth.

Marj placed great emphasis on observing movement.  My involvement with horses and riding has given me a new appreciation of that aspect of her teaching. Marj was a horsewoman who raised and rode quarter horses on her ranch.  Now I understand how significantly that informed her Alexander Technique teaching.  My riding mentors are all extremely keen observers of movement.  But I have been asked to answer through the lens of Aikido.  My response looks at how much power is generated with the least amount of effort though use of the body as a whole and through a harmonious relationship with the tool.

I’m noticing how much body integration each worker seems to possess and how they are trying to maximize the effect of their effort; how energy is moving through them and their sledge hammers; what is their relationship to the tool they are using -- if they make it a natural extension of their movement or if they seem very separate from it.  All of them are standing in right hamni, the triangular stance used in Aikido and in Aikido weapons training.  The worker in the green hat is using himself in a manner closest to Aikido body movement.  He is the most efficient, initiating the movement from his center and allowing it to spiral up his torso through his arms. He is using the dropping of his center and maximizing the movement of his hip, knee and ankle joints, and his torso has a lot of integrity.  He maintains his vertical axis nicely -- he is not twisting himself off axis.  He allows his hip movement to swing the hammer back and behind him, which carries through as his arms raise over his head and he then lets the hammer drop with gravity, enhancing the effect of that with the timing of the dropping of his center, just slightly before the hammer strike. Sugano Sensei had this quality of timing in his bokken (wooden sword) cut.

“Green hat” also has the best ma-ai (distance) between his center and the center of the post.  The other workers’ distance appears not quite comfortable.  Possibly the different distances are necessary to coordinate the movements of the four of them.  The third worker from the right has to throw his hammer out forward to reach the post, which puts some extra stress on his upper body.  Green hat‘s efficiency means that he does not need to reposition his grip each time he swings the hammer. The worker to his right repositions his grip for each strike to create leverage with his upper body and arms against the hammer, but this means his upper body is taking more impact and also doing more work – he is actually lifting that heavy hammer with his arms for each swing – you can see his left elbow come away from his body creating the stressful relationship to his hammer.  The other two workers are focused on hitting with their upper bodies as well; the worker in the left front is at least moving his center laterally and using his large joints (like the rowing exercise in Aikido) which gives him some whole body power; however, his upper body has an energetic break mid-chest, as he is still overworking with his arms and upper body, so he dissipates some of the useful energy generated by the movement of his lower body.  He and the worker in the white hat are each tensing their upper back and neck against impact of the strike which indicates to me that they are using “hard eyes” or a narrowed field of vision, focusing a lot of effort on the end goal and slightly anticipating each impact.  I also notice that green hat’s efficiency with his body mechanics, timing and distance makes his striking seem slower and more spacious, even though I believe they are all striking at about the same actual speed.

So, the worker with the most ease, awareness and integration within his own body is able to work most efficiently. In Aikido this efficiency translates into the martial quality. The beauty of the movement is not separate from the effectiveness.

What an interesting opportunity to see four people’s unique relationship to the same activity! Thank you, Bruce, for asking my perspective. I suggest asking Gail Field to give an Alexander Technique/Centered Riding analysis, and Maria Katsamanis to talk about movement from a Classical Equitation context.

the other side

It has been over a year since I last shared anything here. Those who know me know something of the story but the gist of it is that I have passed through a time of deep sorrow and loss and have finally emerged to fully embrace life and learning again. Lots of knitting was accomplished this winter as I meditatively worked through my feelings, and more than a few horses have carried me as I cried -- they have taken especially good care of their trembling rider.

Springtime is bringing many riding opportunities, Centered Riding® clinics, study groups, a new Finding Harmony with your Horse session at Lord Stirling. Annelie and I are attending Feldenkrais and Franklin Method (with Eric Franklin!) workshops, and spending time together pursuing our many common interests. and I’m fully back on the aikido mat and doing a lot more Alexander Technique teaching. My daughter and her husband have moved to New York! You can hear her lovely coloratura soprano voice on the blogger site I just created for her: Maya's Arrival.

So, I’m looking forward to tending my digital garden here at RBHE again, now that I have come out on the other side – of life.

Theo, the biggest horse I have ridden so far, terrified me with his ground behavior, only to show me that, as promised by his owner, he is a perfect gentleman under saddle and truly a gentle giant!

on the radio

A few weeks ago I was down in Hickory, North Carolina for a Centered Riding® clinic with Robin Brueckmann and a few extra days of horse immersion at the invitation of my friend, the fabulous, fearless and funloving Miss Dana Dewey, founder of Foothills Equestrian Center. I also visited Aikido of Charlotte and taught a couple of classes at the gracious invitation of Sensei Dennis Main and his senior student Jonathan Weiner who subsequently interviewed me for their web radio program.

I thought I would consciously avoid incorporating anything at all about horse riding, as I know that I often get carried away with that -- but of course, I couldn’t quite resist.

Listen to the interview HERE.

fascinating rhythm

The giant metronome in the sky – that’s how I came to think of the incessant and precisely regular sound. It would have been maddening, except for the fact that it seemed to pulse at a tempo perfectly suited to the trotting gait of the horse I was riding that evening -- another lovely autumn night in the outdoor ring. Clear and not too cold, it was apparently also perfect for the local marching band practicing somewhere off in the distance, using an amplified electronic metronome to keep them in step.

Well, of course, I knew rhythm to be important in riding and horse training but that evening I had a very tangible experience of the effect of regularity, repetition and consistency on both my horse and myself. I found it impossible to keep from posting the trot to the beat of the metronome. So after my initial resistance, thinking ‘when will that infernal pounding stop!?’ I surrendered and noticed how happily Knickers seemed to be ticking along, dropping his head slightly, blowing out and shaking himself like a big dog, quickly settling down to trot easily around the ring. We both became somewhat mesmerized and I found that soon I hadn’t a care in the world.

The experience stayed with me and in my musician’s heart I began to ponder the significance of rhythm – a concept I had come to take for granted throughout many years of musical training. I started questioning some of my musical friends, particularly those who play jazz and Latin music, I pulled out all of my various dressage and horse training books and began to think about rhythm – in music and in horse riding, soon finding more complexity than I first imagined.

Rhythm is a vibrational phenomenon, and it exists at many levels and across time scales. Some say that our relationship to rhythm is established in our mother’s womb as we are literally immersed in the beating of her heart. Throughout our lives we experience layer upon layer of rhythms and cycles from the rising and setting of the sun, the phases of the moon, and the turning of the seasons. From the micro to the macro level, rhythm makes time apparent to us.

So, rhythm includes periodicity and regularity, contains the element of tempo, can create shape, is predictable -- the feeling of knowing what is coming next allows for relaxation. I have the rhythm of my work day, my week, the rhythm of an hour’s aikido class or a weekend intensive seminar. These days I also have the regular structure of a riding lesson – a similar progression from preparation, warm up, through gradually more demanding movements, including periods of greater and lesser intensity, ending with a winding down to walk on a long rein, halt and dismount. Like a musical phrase, a song or a symphony, a short story or a novel – each has a certain form and tempo, a rhythmic framework.

Our rhythmic sense should be completely natural and inherent, yet not everyone seems to be able to express it equally well, to “tap into it,” to “go with the flow.” If rhythm is so closely connected to relaxation, then it certainly makes sense that tension is the enemy of rhythm. Any method for releasing excess tension, whether through the Alexander Technique, Feldenkrais, meditation or constructive rest, allows us more access to this quality we all seem to crave: the pulse which has the ability to mesmerize and enthrall and which in turn puts us even further at ease.

The subject is deep and broad and all-encompassing and its application, especially in horse riding and training, so integral, I am quite certain that “I do not know what I do not know” – you know what I mean -- but it is so irresistibly fascinating that it must be explored.

And, what could seemingly illustrate rhythm more perfectly than – tap dancing! Ring in the New Year with this over-the-top number as Eleanor Powell dances to…what else – Fascinatin' Rhythm! Fortunately, even the low resolution film quality cannot disguise the precision of her body mechanics. Note her ability to isolate body parts, the easy poise of her head and if you wonder how she can move and lift her legs without disturbing her overall coordination – it’s the psoas (core strength) muscle. Enjoy!

a moving stillness

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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!

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.

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."

alchemy

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1. a form of chemistry and speculative philosophy . . . concerned principally with discovering methods for transmuting baser metals into gold and with finding . . . an elixir of life.

2. any magical power or process of transmuting a common substance, usually of little value, into a substance of great value.

Somehow my imagination has been captured by the magic of the precious metals – silver and gold, silver and gold…they seem to be everywhere! I even woke in the night hearing in my mind the repeating round known to every Girl Scout: ‘make new friends, but keep the old – one is silver and the other gold.’ Over and over, silver and gold . . . what does it mean?

Autumn is always a bittersweet time of the year for me, and now especially so -- a foretaste of endings and promise of new beginnings to come -- eventually. I’m enjoying the last days of lingering light, fluttering golden leaves in Central Park and the final touches of warmth here in New York – and, to my astonishment, I’ve somehow fallen in love with the City again after months of wishing to be elsewhere.

Such an unusually challenging year has passed since my last entry “called back to basics” and I’ve been recently yearning to share and write again, particularly as the past month has been so full of important experiences -- aikido seminars and Alexander Technique immersions, and of course, horse riding. Much is shifting in my concept of riding, my awareness and in my own body mechanics -- the synergy between all my passionate pursuits feels luxurious right now. As always, the passage through difficulty has transported me to the present, where, in contrast, my current circumstances seem especially rich.

This year, I’ve also experienced the shadow side of power, in politics and manipulation. And as long as we are human beings living on earth the shadow will be contained in all our experiences, all of our so-called elevated endeavors and enlightened groups. Silver – could it represent the shadow side, the silver of reflected moonlight contrasted with the true and direct golden light of the sun? I have usually chosen to ignore the shadow side of life, in others, and in myself.

Now I have begun to see the power and beauty of embracing both aspects, shadow and light, silver and gold. One is silver and the other – gold. How could it be otherwise? They are most fully appreciated in relation to each other. They ebb and flow, the proportion of one to the other shifting and changing. Acknowledgement of the shadow, and non-resistance, begin the process of transmutation.

A photographer friend pointed out that colors seem so much more vivid on an overcast day. The gilded artwork depicting O’Sensei was radiant and the autumn leaves outside the window equally so on the cool and gray weekend we spent with Patricia Hendricks at her recent seminar at ASNJ. Pat is a real treasure – powerful yet soft, her teaching is infused with warmth, compassion and humility. She fully demonstrates martial application while incorporating larger philosophical concepts using her mastery of the Japanese language.

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

harmony – includes video of aikido women instructors (myself included!)

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).

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.

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!