I hit a point in meditation where it became obvious to me that I was using more effort to stand than I needed to, and I could just let go of the tension.
This is one of the general principles of movement theorists—that our muscles are habitually clenched with unnecessary strain which saps our energy and makes sensing movement precisely, and thereby executing movement precisely, difficult. They generally wouldn’t say just to let go—you want your muscles active in sensing what you’re doing, though letting go is good for being able to sense the difference between being clenched and being relaxed, and so to notice when you are in a clenched state.
If you’re interested in neuromuscular control theory, I recommend Moshe Feldenkrais, Thomas Hanna, Lulu Sweigart, and Mable Todd.
If you’re interested in neuromuscular control theory, I recommend Moshe Feldenkrais, Thomas Hanna, Lulu Sweigart, and Mable Todd.
I’m at the moment reading Hanna and Feldenkrais. With both I note that they did their work decades ago. Is there something more recent in that domain that you would recommend to read as well?
The Alexander Technique is incredible valuable in working with RSI; I’m a violinist & AT teacher in NYC and have seen people who couldn’t turn a page in a book or press an elevator button without pain learn how rid themselves of RSI by improving their “use” as Mr. Alexander called it.
Here’s a little essay that explains some of the ideas behind the work; but it must be learned by hands on experiences to be truly understood.
This is one of the general principles of movement theorists—that our muscles are habitually clenched with unnecessary strain which saps our energy and makes sensing movement precisely, and thereby executing movement precisely, difficult.
This is precisely what slow Tai Chi forms are designed to deal with.
I’ve edited the post to say “excess tension”. What seemed remarkable was that I had a moment of being able to tell clearly what I needed to stop doing.
That’s interesting. The usual Feldenkrais take is not knowing what you need to do, but sensing what you are doing, and being aware of alternatives to it.
In your meditation, what are you focusing your awareness on?
It’s been a while since I’ve done standing meditation, but I was doing it rong at the time. I didn’t have the focus to really let my mind calm or to work on alignment. Instead, I’d put up with it for a while, and then count breaths until the timer dinged. When I say I counted breaths, I don’t mean I did the classic boring up to four back to one up to four. I’d just count in a straight sequence.
Or I’d do projects like paying attention to corresponding fingers and toes, but not with the sort of dedication where the projects would be likely to make any difference—they were an effort to avoid boredom.
Standing meditation worked for me anyway.
My initial explanation was that standing meditation gave me enough time to realize that I was being stupid about how I was standing, but I’ve come to the conclusion that I was not giving enough attention to possible causes for the moment of inspiration, so I now think there might be something specifically valuable about the stances.
Or I’d do projects like paying attention to corresponding fingers and toes, but not with the sort of dedication where the projects would be likely to make any difference—they were an effort to avoid boredom.
Actually, “just paying attention” is believed to be able to make a large and lasting difference. I can immediately adjust my posture, in various ways, by focusing on different points on my body. Without voluntary contraction of muscles, the muscles adjust. In fact, adjust much better than if I try to “do it” voluntarily.
This is one of the general principles of movement theorists—that our muscles are habitually clenched with unnecessary strain which saps our energy and makes sensing movement precisely, and thereby executing movement precisely, difficult. They generally wouldn’t say just to let go—you want your muscles active in sensing what you’re doing, though letting go is good for being able to sense the difference between being clenched and being relaxed, and so to notice when you are in a clenched state.
If you’re interested in neuromuscular control theory, I recommend Moshe Feldenkrais, Thomas Hanna, Lulu Sweigart, and Mable Todd.
I’m at the moment reading Hanna and Feldenkrais. With both I note that they did their work decades ago. Is there something more recent in that domain that you would recommend to read as well?
I did most of my reading on this stuff about a decade ago.
One guy I didn’t mention was Frank Pierce Jones, who did experimental studies on the Alexander Technique.
Looks like there has actually been a fair amount of study of the Alexander Technique in the last 15 years. See La Wik, and
http://www.amsatonline.org/research
Like I said, I haven’t read this stuff in a while, so please update us on what you find.
The Alexander Technique is incredible valuable in working with RSI; I’m a violinist & AT teacher in NYC and have seen people who couldn’t turn a page in a book or press an elevator button without pain learn how rid themselves of RSI by improving their “use” as Mr. Alexander called it.
Here’s a little essay that explains some of the ideas behind the work; but it must be learned by hands on experiences to be truly understood.
http://connectingupthedots.com/2014/03/20/understanding-the-primary-directions-which-way-is-up/
The question is whether there’s good recent literature on the topic. Is there more recent writing than Alexander’s that’s good?
This is precisely what slow Tai Chi forms are designed to deal with.
I’ve edited the post to say “excess tension”. What seemed remarkable was that I had a moment of being able to tell clearly what I needed to stop doing.
That’s interesting. The usual Feldenkrais take is not knowing what you need to do, but sensing what you are doing, and being aware of alternatives to it.
In your meditation, what are you focusing your awareness on?
It’s been a while since I’ve done standing meditation, but I was doing it rong at the time. I didn’t have the focus to really let my mind calm or to work on alignment. Instead, I’d put up with it for a while, and then count breaths until the timer dinged. When I say I counted breaths, I don’t mean I did the classic boring up to four back to one up to four. I’d just count in a straight sequence.
Or I’d do projects like paying attention to corresponding fingers and toes, but not with the sort of dedication where the projects would be likely to make any difference—they were an effort to avoid boredom.
Standing meditation worked for me anyway.
My initial explanation was that standing meditation gave me enough time to realize that I was being stupid about how I was standing, but I’ve come to the conclusion that I was not giving enough attention to possible causes for the moment of inspiration, so I now think there might be something specifically valuable about the stances.
Actually, “just paying attention” is believed to be able to make a large and lasting difference. I can immediately adjust my posture, in various ways, by focusing on different points on my body. Without voluntary contraction of muscles, the muscles adjust. In fact, adjust much better than if I try to “do it” voluntarily.