Practice makes perfect. Give your all. When you don’t succeed, try and try again. Try and fail, but don’t fail to try.
We’re taught to do our best from a very early age, and our parents aren’t wrong for teaching us this. But unfortunately, most of our parental figures, coaches, teachers, and leaders, have taught us that to do our best we must put forth a lot of effort and try really really hard. We must push ourselves to the limit. We must work and work until we get it right. Mistakes are bad. Perfection is good.
When I was in 9th grade, I started having a lot of trouble in math. I was in an advanced math class as it had all come pretty effortlessly for me up until that point. I had never been a huge math enthusiast, but I hadn’t ever minded the class before either. Rather than have me drop down into the “average” class, my parents hired a tutor to help reinforce concepts so that I would get better grades on my exams. I remember feeling that that harder I tried—the more effort I put in--the less and less I seemed to “get it”. I remember leaving 1st period not only exhausted and frustrated, but with lots of anxiety and these strange tension headaches. In the end I think I squeaked by with a C to my frustration and my parents dismay. And from that point on, math was a joyless activity and still is to this day. I dropped the subject as soon as I could.
I think we all want the best for ourselves and our children. But if we ride ourselves too hard, if we over-effort, if we wreck ourselves in our desire to achieve a goal—even if we eventually achieve that goal—what did we really accomplish?
In the Alexander Technique, doing one’s best holds a very different meaning than it does in most of western culture. In an Alexander Technique lesson, the teacher will put forth an intention, whether it be getting out of a chair or playing a piece of difficult music, and at the same time, ask the student to let go of the desire to “get it right”. When the student truly lets go of their fear of making a mistake (not an easy thing by the way!), it not only creates physical and emotional ease and a greater sense of awareness, but invites the student to let go of a narrowed perspective and open themselves to new possibilities that may not have been there before. Trying—in other words effort—creates unnecessary tension. When the student moves towards their goal with a sense of ease and freedom (both mentally and physically), they accomplish their task more efficiently, with more joy, and without sacrificing themselves in the process.
I work a lot with actors, and what I’ve come to find is that most performing artists don’t feel like they are doing a good job unless they exude a lot of muscular effort and tension (generally what is thought to be the opposite of good acting). When I am able to get an actor to do less, to not push for results or emotional qualities, their performance often becomes exceptional. But what’s so very interesting is that most actors don’t believe me when I tell them how amazing their work was. “But it didn’t feel like I was doing anything!” they cry. “Exactly!” I say. What they failed to feel was the over-efforting and extra tension they are used to feeling when doing their work.
The next time you have an important goal—whether it is nailing a job interview, creating an impressive dinner party, participating in a 5K, or playing an exceptional golf game, see what happens—just for a moment—if you can let go of your desire to “get it right.” What happens if you acknowledge a mistake gracefully and with curiosity rather than let it lock you up? What if you open yourself up to other possible paths, even if the one you’re already on seems self-evident and clear?
Doing your best might just get a whole lot better.
What are your thoughts about doing your best? About achieving goals no matter the cost? I'd love to hear your experiences and thoughts...
http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/images/view_photog.php?photogid=2888 ddpavumba / FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Last week I had a session with a very difficult new student. He had come to me because whenever he became stressed, he invariably experienced pain in his neck, upper back, and shoulders. Chiropractic helped the pain, but he was pretty convinced there was something he was doing to himself that was the root of the problem.
It was obvious to me he was interested in the Alexander Technique and was very willing to learn, but as soon as we started our lesson he grew very defensive very quickly. He became frustrated when I told him the first step in the process had to do with allowing his neck to be easy and free. Not only was he unable to let go of the tension in his neck, but he couldn’t explain to himself why he could not “loosen his neck” as he put it. The more frustrated he became, the more difficult it was for him to let go.
I knew this work would do wonders for him if he could stop being so hard on himself. If he could let go of the need to “get it right” and simply be curious about what he was experiencing I believed this frustration would abate on its own. I decided to put him on my massage table for what we call a “table turn” so that he could practice releasing unnecessary tension while lying down. I encouraged him to let go of his head and let the table support his body while I moved his arms and his legs. The expression on his face changed and he grew quiet and thoughtful.
“How are you doing?” I asked.
It took him a long time to answer. “I feel sad and I don’t know why.”
“That’s okay.” I told him. “Whatever you are feeling right now is alright.”
And with that he began to cry. We kept working quietly, me helping him release extra tension through his neck and across his chest, him noticing and observing his breath and his reactions.
Most people have no idea how much of their emotional life is locked up in their breath and their musculature. It’s very easy for us to roll our shoulders back and tighten our chest or abdomen against negative emotions like fear and sadness. We don’t want show the outside world what we are feeling. This armoring is not a bad thing in itself; things happen and it is imperative we develop coping mechanisms. The problem arises when the instinct to shield ourselves becomes habitual and subconscious. The problem arises when we don’t give ourselves a choice as to whether or not we express our emotions.
Adam Bailey, an Alexander Technique teacher who holds a Master’s Degree in Counseling Psychology from the Harvard Graduate School of Education has this to say:
For some people, their unconscious minds and their bodies may be the containers for feelings, memories and experiences that they’re unaware of. They may have “forgotten” about these emotions because of the demands of growing up in modern society – or because the original experiences were painful or the environment didn’t support their full expression of their feelings. This material is then stored in their bodies in the form of muscle tension, and may result in chronic pain, among other symptoms. Thus, these people, when they begin Alexander lessons, may experience deep emotions and memories from the past. For them, the Alexander Technique provides a safe, grounded means of dealing with this material as it emerges.
I need to specify here that Alexander Technique teachers are not therapists. We’re not interested in why these emotions have become buried or what experiences led to the holding and tensions that cause pain or stiffness. What we are interested in is helping students recognize these habitual patterns and strip them away so that they feel freer, lighter, and hopefully--pain free.
My student was pretty shaken up from his experience and though I’m afraid he left with more questions than answers he appeared lighter on his feet and more relaxed than when he walked in. “I’m don’t know why, but I feel like this weight has been lifted,” he exclaimed as he was getting on his shoes. I knew why. The downward pull in his chest and stiffness in his arms was gone.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Bailey, Adam. "The Alexander Technique and Psychological Growth | Alexander Technique Boston." Adam Bailey | Alexander Technique Boston. Web. 24 Oct. 2011. <http://alexandertechniqueboston.com/the-alexander-technique-and-psychological-growth/>.
Every weekend I teach acting classes to kids and teens in Century City.
As my group of teenagers entered the studio at the beginning of class last weekend, I noticed Markus drop his pen. With a big heave, a crunched neck and hunched shoulders, he bent over to retrieve his lost article off the carpet. At that moment, just for a flash, I saw fourteen-year-old Markus as the sixty-year-old man he might one day become. He came up in much the same awkward and compressed way, knuckled his back for a moment, and sauntered over to his seat. "Guys," I asked, cautious curiosity bubbling into my voice. "Where do you bend from?" "What, Miss Jenn?" asked Alissa. "Where do you bend from?" I repeated. The room grew silent, perplexed expressions on all the kids faces. "Stand up, guys." I grabbed the marker from the whiteboard and dropped it on the floor. "If you were to pick up this marker, how would you do it? What joints do you use? Point to the places you would bend from." The students paused for a moment and then eleven of my twelve students pointed to the middle of their backs, on or a little below the waist line. "Okay, I said." I'm going to pick up this marker. I'm going to do it by bending from the back of my waist like you guys are telling me to. Ready?" I curled over, my spine compressing uncomfortably, and reached out my right hand to grab the marker. My neck remained crunched up until I regained my height. "What did you notice about that move?"
"You didn't look very comfortable." said Irene "You looked like an old lady!" said Jeremy. Everyone laughed. They already consider me to be an old lady. "I did." I replied and dropped the marker again. "I'm going to do it again, but I'm not going to bend over at my waist. Do you know why?" The class shook their heads. "Because I don't have a joint at my waist. I have some flexibility in my spine," I wiggle around and do a funny dance, which proves this as well as how uncool of a grown-up I am. "But there isn't a joint there. Where are the joints I can bend from to pick up something off the floor?" "You're hip joints," says Irene. "Yup. Where are they?" I ask. She points to the top of her hips right below her waist.
"Not quite," I say. Lift your knee up and see where you leg creases. Half the students decide to try this for themselves. "Oh, much lower than I thought." admits Irene. "Where are the other joints?" "Knees," says Jeremy. "Yup." Where else?" "There's more?" asks Kayden from the back. He's clearly ready to start talking about something more interesting. "How about your ankles?" I offer. Everyone looks down perplexed at their ankles. "For bending?" says Kennedy a little skeptically. "Well, try bending your knees without flexing at your ankles." They actually do, to my amusement. "So what if I bend down to pick up this marker using my hips, knees, and ankles and leave my back alone?" I ask. I allow my neck to be free and easy and my head automatically begins to feel lighter. As my spine lengthens, rather than compresses, I float down on my joints, pick up the marker, and smoothly come back up. "That looked easy." said Irene. "It was. And it didn't crunch my neck or my back in the least. Want to try it?" They do, giggling at the strangeness of consciously observing themselves practice such a simple activity. "This looks a lot like the way my two-year-old sister picks up stuff," comments Michelle. "Wow. My back feels better doing it that way," comments Markus. "Weird." It never ceases to amaze me how unconscious we are about the way we are constructed. Simply having a kinesthetic understanding of our bodies has a profound effect on the way we move through our lives. I like to use the analogy of owning a car. Say you buy a new car, put only premium gas in it, regularly have it maintenanced, and protect it from freezing temperatures and harsh weather. It should last you for years, right? But say you also drive it hard. Hit speed bumps and potholes carelessly and are rough on the steering and breaks. I would hazard that this new car will wear down much faster than it should, despite the fact that you take "proper care" of your vehicle. It is the same with your body. You can exercise regularly, get enough sleep, and avoid fried foods, but if you are reckless with the way you "drive" you're bound to have a breakdown sooner or later.
Compressing, twisting, or wrenching to complete simple daily activities such as grabbing a bag from the back seat of the car or stretching up to retrieve something off the top shelf might seem unavoidable. But next time you find you are compressing, twisting, or wrenching, ask yourself, "How can I be easier with myself right now? What tension can I let go of? What joints am I employing, or could be employing for this task?
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