...and more linguistic details in yesterday's lesson. Which is nice, because I like linguistics a lot; it's what I trained for once, quite some years ago. We talked about the difference between
(a) taking an elbow out is not pulling it in
(b) taking an elbow out is not pulling it in

Although they look similar, they're really different:
(a) [taking an elbow out] [is not] [pulling it in]
(b) [taking an elbow out] [is] [not pulling it in]

Although the first sentence is probably the most common way to read this statement, it's not a very informative one in Alexander terms. It only tells you what 'taking an elbow out' is not; in a way it leaves you with a zillion other possibilities that can substitute 'pulling it in'. In addition, it invites you to substitute with an another verb, which is another way of 'doing'. In AT terms, this is not a very good idea.

The second sentence is much more enlightening, because it actually tells you what 'taking an elbow out' is. It is litterally 'not pulling it in'. Nothing more, but also nothing less. It is a 'non-doing' and it is 'not in'. From this also follows that there is no in-between state between the two. It's not: 'I pull the elbow in- I move into some kind of neutral position- I take the elbow out'. Rather, the taking out happens immediately and on its own accord as soon as the pulling in stops.

This may seem a bit trivial, but it's quite important for my understanding of AT principles. In particular, it teaches me that I do not need any kind of preparation or organisation to start an upflow, because that is still reasoning from the 'doing' paradigm, even though it's doing on the mental level. Rather, the second that I stop all this, the upflow is already there. My job is to keep out of its way, refining its meaning and detail and renewing it time and again.

I don't know whether it's the crazy weather- 20C in October is so weird that only nature can think of it, just like those ridiculously pink and orange skies. If I were an art teacher, I'd probably tell off any pupil that would use such kitschy colours.

Anyhow, I have this spring cleaning feeling. You know, out with the old, in with the new. Only this time it's happening on the inside, and with a speed that I've never achieved in good old-fashioned householding. Over the last few days, quite some old memories, habits and other pandora-like boxes have presented themselves, and, I don't know why or how, but all of a sudden, I'm able to deal with them. Really deal with them: look at them objectively, scrutinizing them, and deciding whether they're still relevant or important for me. Most of the time, they're not.

And really, most of them are not that big anyway. It's not that I'm meeting major trauma or anything dramatic- my life is much too normal for that kind of stuff. But what does surprise me is how much I have been formed, and are still influenced by beliefs and convictions that I don't really want or need any longer.

It's funny, last week, I felt something was different, and I couldn't determine what it was. Until yesterday, when I realised that my shoulder has been pretty much painfree for over a week now. It still feels a bit stiff occassionally, and I still notice that it's there, but it has improved so much compared to two months ago.

Chi Gong: same story, lots of little and big changes taking place. Like being able to do the balancing exercises (like very slow shifts from one foot to the other) with my eyes closed. Or actually experiencing energy balls instead of visualising them. And the best part: during some of the exercises, I all of a sudden know exactly where I am. I, as in the boundaries between my skin and the outside world, the parts of my body that are supposed to move and ones that are supposed to stay still and support me. For just a few milliseconds, I have complete control over every cell in my body. Because it's so short, I don't even realise when it happens, I only notice the return to my old state afterwards. But it's very exciting anyway, and it leaves me very curious about what I'll encounter next.

Last week was a bit busy, so not much time to keep notes here. Pity, because the last couple of weeks have been full of leaps, surprises and insights. This happens sometimes, one little event during a lesson sets off a whole avalanche of rapid changes.

Last week's lesson was about two things:
- our default state is one of natural, effortless operation- if we leave ourselves alone, that is. As soon as we start doing things, we interfere with this beautiful natural organisation. This is, of course, not new to me, but not so many things are these days. But it's the perspective that changes all the time. It feels like things don't become truer, but more things become true, in a way.
- extra attention for my shoulder, which is still behaving badly. Points of attention: send directions from sitting bone outwards and upwards (not sidewards) through the core of my shoulder. Having a limp arm hanging from my shoulder is not a desirable state/merit. Rather, it should be full of life, with a tendency towards round.

Since that lesson, my shoulder is actually improving. I don't exactly know what I do different in terms of sending directions, but I don't have pain at the moment, only a sore feeling in my upper arm and elbow. It's still not problem-free, but things are changing.

Yesterday's lesson surprised me. Although I suspected that my recent close encounter of the not-so-nice kind might have triggered some extra change AT-wise, but I didn't expect it to be this kind of warp-speed, or so fundamental.

We do AT with a piano stool, not a chair. Usually, when I'm taken back and further back, I experience this as quite uncomfortable, because I'm afraid I'll fall over, because I tense- doesn't matter why, but anyhow, it doesn't feel nice. I remember three moments of extreme uncomfortableness, one only just a few lessons ago, and they all had to do with going somewhere I didn't really want to go.

This lesson, however, I didn't really care about that, not in the way that I used to. I mean, after what I experienced last week, what can I possibly be afraid of now? And it showed, quite definitely. I think that, in the not so far future, I'll probably be able to bend backwards and land on my head :-)

Another thing I noticed, is that lengthening and widening have gained an additional meaning for me; when I lose them, it's not just about my body collapsing, it's also about me, as in the core of my being. Losing them is forcing me to stand on the point of a needle; it's depriving myself of my space in this world. Also, it's something I do myself, and something I shouldn't have to, or want to. I'm surprised at how deep the impact of this realisation is; it all feels quite new and a bit...don't know...wobbly? It feels like starting to learn something new- yet again. And I'm very much looking forward to it.

I hope Alexander is having a great time wherever he may be; he certainly deserves it for having found out all this and more on his own- in just one lifetime.

More notes:
- try to stay backwards, not physically, but direction-wise
- keep neck off the hook

It turned out that last week's rollercoaster rides, my AT lessons, a visit to the chiropractor, some funny drops in a bottle of water and other good, but sometimes uncomfortable explorations of Maaike turned out to be one big general rehearsal for today.

I've looked straight into the eye of it.

You know, the it as in first you go out of your teacher's way, then your own way and then it's way. I knew I was going to face it, scared shitless when I went to meet it and came out completely "over de zeik", but hey, I did it, I did it different from what I'm used to so far, I did it consciously, calmly and composed and I remained myself. Or perhaps became myself. With my brains, I ask so many questions right now, but half a meter below, I know that I can trust my own judgement, not because I'm right, but because I'm me. And that's something that nobody can take away, conquer or undermine.

Again with my brain, I know that this is not an absolute victory, and that it's just a step in the right direction, and that the same it will come back even bigger. But again, half a meter below, it's dancing in there, because I stood up for what I believe in, for what I am.

And I'm incredibly proud of that.

I spent some time transferring this blog to a new content management system, and it looks like everything is working well. From now on, I'm no longer dependent on any third party providers, which means that I won't lose comments any longer, and that I can manage everything from my own domain.

Other improvements: posts have been categorized for easy reference and you can now search through this blog. I've also included the basics of a new layout; I went for something more colorful as you can see :-) In the coming weeks, I still want to do some final tweaking on the fonts and graphic design.

I spent some time thinking on a logo, and came up with the standard exit-sign. Considerations for doing so:
- even though, superficially, the symbol looks like 'up', it's really a representation of 'out', in every sense of the word (as you may recall, this is something I recently discovered- for about the zillionth time).
- the arrow could be anything: thought, direction, but also head. It's nice that it doesn't touch the surrounding structure anywhere, which conveys a sense of freedom.
- symbols don't need words.
- I write manuals for a living, so symbols kind of suit me. They can be a very powerful means of communication, once you get the picture.

For a number of reasons (one being that my current comment tool actually eats your comments and refuses to spit them out again), I'm moving my blog to a new blogtool this weekend. I don't expect major trouble, but you never know.