Just because it feels normal or comfortable doesn’t make it good for us.  When you really look at a habit, you have to ask yourself “why do I do this?  Why does this feel ‘right’?”  Chances are, it feels ‘right’ because it’s what you always do when you're not thinking about it. 

So it might feel comfortable or ‘right’, but does it actually feel good? Does your habit, your way of thinking, your way of responding, or your way of moving make you feel light, easy and free?  If not, then maybe it’s time you examine why you do what you do. 

Lets take a simple example—something most us do all the time:  SLUMP.  Face it, most of us are slumpers.  I’m certainly guilty.  I do it because it feels comfortable. But slumping is detrimental and I know this.  It puts pressure on the nerve bearing part of my spine.  It causes lots of pain in my neck and low back if I do it often or for long periods of time.  If I’m being honest with myself, slumping is only comfortable because it’s habitual and because it’s what I do when I’m not aware of how I’m using myself.  Can it really feel good if it’s causing me pain?  No.  It’s my default for when I’m not taking the time to sit or move in the healthiest way possible.

So my slumping habit, when it comes right down to it, doesn’t really feel comfortable after all!  I live in my habits because I can go on autopilot with them.  I don’t have to think about them. 

Some habits in the way we think, respond, or use ourselves might not even seem like patterns or bad habits because of how normal they feel.  Take getting up out of a chair as another simple example.  Nearly everyone, without fail, will tighten their neck or collapse their chests in this activity, creating excess tension in their back and knees each and every time they go to stand.  Every time!  Go ahead and try it now.  Put your hand, very delicately at the nape of your neck and notice if you feel your head pull back and crunch your hand as you go to stand.   Feel it?  How many times a day would you say you sit or stand?  50?  100?  It’s a detrimental habit that is causing your body harm and didn’t even know you had it!

Our habitual responses aren’t just about the way we move.  They are about the way we move through our lives.  How am I responding to the traffic jam this afternoon on the 405?  Can I become aware of this habitual response, the tightness in my neck, the negative thinking, the anger that’s welling up inside me?  Can I stop and take a moment to notice that this is how I always react to traffic?  It feels normal.  It feels justified.  It feels right.  But if I’m being honest with myself I have to ask, “am I benefiting from this pattern?”

How do I change?  How do I stop this response?  First, I ask myself to free my neck and let go of the tightening in my body.  I observe that my jaw is clenched and I let it go. I notice my breath is tight and put my attention on it.  I come back to myself, and the present moment.

See, if I can catch myself pulling into my habitual pattern, if I can put just a moment of space in between the traffic jam on the 405 and my usual reaction to it, I can make room for a choice.  I can choose whether I am going to react in anger or in a new way that I haven't experienced yet.  I’m no longer a slave to my reactions.  If I can make room for choice, then I can make room for real change.

Yesterday, while taking a jog through my local park, I sprained my ankle.  It was one of those disorienting moments where one second I was thinking about how nice it would be to eat a hamburger for lunch and the next I’m sprawled in the dust with the sound of a loud crack still ringing in my ears.  I knew immediately it was a bad twist and that I was not going to make it back to my apartment on my own.  My day flashed before my eyes—work, errands, packing for a vacation I was to leave on the following day—and felt a frustration and disappointment and throbbing pain that brought tears welling up in my eyes.  I pulled my head back and down into my neck, compressing my spine.  I started getting angry.  If only I had stayed on the pavement.  If only I had turned off the alarm this morning and slept in like I wanted to—why was I being punished for doing the right thing and getting some exercise?  Who lets this path get so uneven anyway?  How am I going to get myself on a plane tomorrow?  My trip is ruined!...

When there is a divide between What Is and What (we think) Should Be, we are often thrown out of the present moment.  We spend our energy on regret or waste time running through looped scenarios of what might be but usually isn’t.  That’s not to say we shouldn’t plan ahead or spend time learning from our past mistakes, but we have to honestly ask ourselves, how much of our daily lives are spent thinking pointlessly about yesterday and tomorrow?

The Alexander Technique is a method of teaching one to be here, fully present and engaged with the now.  Sitting in the dust, my ipod and house keys twisted under me, I became aware of how tight my neck, back, shoulders and jaw had become.  I stopped, allowed my neck to be free and easy, and allowed my head to delicately come to balance on top of my spine.  Suddenly my world came a bit more into focus.  My erratic breathing evened out, my heart slowed, and I was able to think more clearly. 

A fellow jogger approached and asked if I was alright.  I made a joke and she laughed, putting us both at ease.

Most people think Alexander Technique work is about posture—and it certainly is.  But above anything else, it’s about learning how to give yourself a choice regarding how you respond to what life throws at you.  When you react automatically, when you lash out, or find your emotional life out of control, you naturally contract into a fight/flight response which compresses your neck and acts as a parking break on your whole neuro-muscular system. 

Try this:  the next time something doesn’t go according to plan, whether it’s a broken glass, a traffic jam, a snafu at work or a disagreement with your partner, see if you can stop and give yourself some internal space before you react.  See if you can allow your neck to be free and easy and let your spine lengthen.  Step back and observe your thinking and breathing and see if you are lead to a different choice than you might have made only a moment before.

In the end my ankle sprain wasn’t nearly as bad as I had suspected.  Generally I find that the hurdles that inevitably spring up are never as bad as I fear they will be.