Some of Us
Some of us become fascinated with the body, how it works, some of us specifically with how it moves, others with the natural grace and physical beauty inherent within our original design.
Some of us feel that Alexander’s work is complete within itself, all encompassing. Others of us enjoy interfacing Alexander’s work with other somatic disciplines such as Yoga, Tai Chi, Aikido, Feldenkrais, Somatic Experiencing, BodyMind Centering just to name a few.
Some of us devote ourselves to applying Alexander’s work to art, particularly the performing arts, to dance, acting, and music, and to the creative process. For others of us, everyday life becomes our art form, our vehicle through which we study and evolve.
Some of us become less interested in the body per se, but in consciousness, embodied mindfulness, and in sensory receptivity.
Some of us become intrigued with how we react or respond to myriad stimuli from within us and all around us, to our own thoughts, emotions, and sensations, and to the thoughts, emotions, and actions of others. We study the role habit and choice play in our lives.
Some of us become enthralled in the connection between Alexander’s work and physiology, psychology, philosophy, theology, sociology, gender studies. Some of us become intrigued by the relationship between movement and meaning, or between culture and coordination, or between physical and spiritual grace, or between science and sentience.
Some of us love and teach through procedures developed by Alexander and enjoy using his language when speaking about the work. Others of us teach through procedures developed by first and second generation teachers, or have chosen to teach through our own procedures, and prefer using contemporary language through which to get Alexander’s ideas across to others. Some of us enjoy using images and metaphors to help us when teaching, and others do not.
Some of us teach predominately through observation and language, others of us predominately through silence and touch. And many of us interweave all in the process of imparting Alexander’s work.
Some of us work more educationally and others more therapeutically. Some of us are interested in injury prevention and rehabilitation, others in learning how to be more open, open to new ideas, to acquiring new ways of perceiving and understanding ourselves, that is, in self-knowledge, in becoming freer and happier.
Some of us belong to this professional society or that professional society, others to no professional society. Some have trained within a training program structured in one way or within a training program structured in another way. Others have gone through apprenticeships, and a few of us, like Alexander himself, have trained essentially on their own. Some of us have trained through one lineage, others through another, others through multiple lineages.
Some of us teach a lot, some a little, some not at all. Some of us love Alexander’s books, and others of us find them tedious and convoluted.
This is who we are. This is our community at large. There was a time, when I was younger and full of hubris and just plain foolish, that I was convinced my training and orientation to Alexander’s work was superior to others, stemming from the one lineage that truly possessed the essence of Alexander’s work. But now, thankfully, I don’t feel that way. I have come to embrace the diversity within our community at large and to see this diversity as healthy and lively and creative.
It is so freeing to know that we can pursue our own approach to the work because so many others are pursuing their approaches to the work. For example, I can work more experimentally, procedurally and linguistically, because I know that others are preserving Alexander’s language and procedures. That is a great relief to me.
Now, after 50 years inside of Alexander’s world, I find myself for everyone and against no one. Finally, I am becoming freer and more flexible, acquiring some mobility of mind. Maybe this was precisely what Alexander was after. Maybe this was what Alexander meant by being but a signpost pointing all of us into unknown directions, and so, so many directions at that.
A good question might be, how can we transition from thinking in terms of some of us, to thinking in terms of all of us? How can we zoom out so far that, like an eagle high in the clear blue sky, we can see the finest of details and, at the same time, behold the entire field, the parts and the whole that is greater than the sum of its parts, not just one facet of the diamond, but the entire diamond, and not only the entire diamond, but the light that shines from that diamond, outwards in myriad directions into the world, and inwards as well, illuminating who we are and what we might become.