Tuesday, 14 April 2015

Pause - Ponder - Proceed



  



Pause: lovely word, funny word -
(Nice onomatopoeic.)
So much nicer than 'Stop!'
(Nasty onompatopoeic.)
It's not 'fix',
Nor 'hold',
Nor 'inhibit',
But just 'pause' in what I am doing.
A gentle 'Musical Statues', or 'Grandmother's Footsteps'….
Showing 'I'm alive and playing, but just not moving….

Sometimes it's called 'The Zero Point' - the space between….

Between what?

Things.
      Doings.
           Beings.
                Stuff.
                    Habits.
                        Assumptions.
                             Desires.
                                 Worries.
                                       Life.

When Paused I can...

Ponder: On what?
On what the doing was.
How the stuff is going for me.
Whether I really desire the desired.
Whether I've made it all up.
Whether I'm flowing or stuck.
Whether the thing is doing its thing as I planned….

Ponder on being a being,
Which I had forgotten was happening
As I did the doing.

So, in my Pausing and Pondering…
I wake up.
I come to.
I Am.

I have a kinaesthetic Ponder too -
My tight heck.
My shallow breath.
My braced knees.
My slumped tum.

How did they creep up on me?
I missed that!
But they did.
So I let go -
And expand -
Easing the tightenings,
Lengthening the collapse.

Now I move. I….

Proceed: Where?
On.
Or back.
Or not.
Or over there.
Or up.
Or down.
It depends on what I Pondered in the Pause.
But now awake, I make a Now choice,
And so my Proceeding is fresh,
Alive,
Appropriate.

I've changed something right inside me
Where I can make secret, personal, change...
And I can expand,
Up from down and down from up,
Side to side and side from side,
Front to back and back to front.

A long, open, wide, deep me
Will enjoy whatever the wherever-ing.
A short, tight, compressed me,
Wont.

So I take the Pause and the Ponder,
And let the Proceed begin within -
I go from where it begins inside,
Flowing from centre to goal.

And soon again I Pause - still moving,
Greeting the Ponder in the space it makes,
And see Proceed flow out as gold...

Saturday, 11 April 2015

The Space Between….



I was told to rigidly stick to the notes….
But you can't make music if you stick to the notes.

Stuck to the notes, they stagger and fall,
Too heavy to fly and flow.

Squashed,
Stuck,
Trapped,
Frozen,
The music withers,
And dies.

And the hands and arms, from finger-tip up,
Shrivel and shrink with the shoulders and back,
Or fall in pieces on the keys.

Inspiration,
Self-revelation -
To be carried on the composer's skilled gift -
Whimpers, cries,
And evaporates.

The space between player and music
Was un-traversable.
Cheated.


'I told you, stick to the notes - see, when you don't, you fail.'

No, sticking to the notes failed us all -
The music and me and you.
But
The spaces between them will never fail us;
They are the greatest gift of all -
They are the place where we play.



Friday, 10 April 2015

Shine...

You come in pain.
There's a rigidity in your body -
A holding -
A guarding -
A suppressed panic -
Your body seems to say, "What if…?"

What if what?
"What if I'm wrong?
What if nothing will change -
And I feel like this for ever -
Or worse, it worsens…?"

"I've been told…."
"I've got to…."
"I must…"

Yet, companioning you in that place,
Witnessing you just as you are -
No pushing, no pulling -
Listening touch asking you to witness yourself just as you are,
Brings a gradual softening.

"Shall I put my hips here?"
No, let them be.

45 seconds they say -
45 seconds is all the time it takes before something in the body changes -
An emotion - a tightening - a panic - a clenching.
Yet we run from all these feelings into new ones,
Long before the 45 seconds passes - and why not;
They're horrible feelings, they are,
And no one has ever stayed with you,
Said you are human in these feelings and sensations.

"Should I do this with my head?"
No, let it be.

No one has ever stayed with you,
Preferring to change you rather than feel your discomfort.
No one has listened with you to your clenched panic,
For as along as it takes,
 
Until now.

"Should I push my knees back here?"
No, let them be.

And witnessed - not judged -
Audienced - not criticised -
The experience changes.

Supported by quiet hands
Space appears -
Possibilities surface -
A clarity stirs.

'Do this' and 'Don't do that',
'Lift here' and 'relax there', all irrelevant;
Your body knows what to do, where to flow…
And now we hear it speak its truth.

So much correctional instruction in the past -
Assumptions,
Fashions,
Pushings,
Forcings,
Contradictions...
'Make the body behave!'

Oh bless it, and bless you….
No, no, no….
Come, rest under my hands,
Sense the wisdom in your body,
Feel the waves quieten,
Be.

"So, I just stand here? Resting on my feet ? My head on top?"
Yes.

You.
Wondrous you,
Just lost under all those should-ed shoulds.

Come out, come out;  you're too fine to be hidden thus.
Gradually come free,
Gently shine,
Be.






Thursday, 2 April 2015

Trying to let go...



"My body felt tight, so I was trying to let go….
Trying not to tighten…."

Those words make for an interesting ponder:

Trying is effort, struggle, hard, keen, oppressive, sticky, severe, exacting….
Trying includes what if I don't?
What if I can't?
I can, I can…. I must….. I will…
I really, really will…
Try.

Not to: a negative….
No, mustn't, can't, shouldn't, don't, oughtn't, disobedient….
Try not to...

Tighten - hold, fix, suppress, fix, rigidify, set, harden, clench, contract, pinch, squeeze,…
Try not to be tight.

Trying to let go = I must be exact, struggle, and mustn't clench….

What does that do for you?
Ouch.

Oxymorons are sticky,
And 'Trying to let go' is very sticky.

I tighten.
Or I don't tighten.

Trying is a doing.
Letting go is a non-doing.

'Try' and 'not to' can never be bedfellows….

I notice my tightening and I allow it to be there;
What we resist, persists.
When I allow it to be there, I instantly experience my allowing
As softening….
Tightening melting.

My teaching is about allowing,
Freedom,
Permission,
The Yes.

We cannot fight our way to freedom;
We are the verb we are using in the moment -
If I fight, I am fight.
If I tighten, I am tight.
If I soften, I am soft.
If I let go, I am release.

I cannot fight my way to softness.
I cannot struggle my way to freedom.
I cannot mustn't my way to permission.
I cannot try my way to release.

I can only soften my way to freedom through my own permission.

So I notice tightening,
And I say Yes.
Heard, the tightening softens.
No negatives, no blame, no shame.
Just me.
Not trying.
Being.
Soft.


Friday, 27 March 2015

Discoveries with Annie go like this….. Part 2.




I invite you to move move from sitting to standing... 
I invite you to walk… 
My hands quietly listening and bringing your awareness to you.
I ask you to walk to the table and pick up a mug… 
Or to (e.g.) play your flute or guitar….
My hands quietly with you all the time, giving you a new feedback of your movements,
But always inviting your awareness - never pushing or demanding;
This is about you, not me.
Any mastery I offer is that you find your own mastery is right there, 
Waiting for you on the inside.

You experience the walking, the everyday action, the playing of your flute with a new ease,
Often smiling at the simplicity you didn't realise was possible.

We sit and talk, finding words for your discoveries;
This isn't me telling you, 
This is me introducing you to the you you are currently being,
And by this you discover how you 'do' the person you think you ought to be,
Your tensions and compressions born of doing you rather than being you.

Now you have taken back choice about how you will be you.

Your body is quieter, open, and sensitivity present, 
Your mind is clearer, 
Your whole self alive to being you.

I work with words and touch, and you and me.

There's lots of mind work out there, how you do your thinking. 
But what about how you do your 'physicality'? 
They can't be separated; they are one.
Yes, How do you do you? In totality? For you do, in every moment.
That realisation is what I offer you in my work.

Psycho-physical-emotional clarity, 
                               Your embodied mindfulness, 
                                                               Your bodyfulness, 
                                                                                    A you who has 'Come to (all) your senses'.

Not everyone wants this; 
Just a few are looking for present presence to this depth, 
Moment-by-moment information and free choice - 
The answer to tension or discomfort found lying right here in the now -
The freedom to be fully you, 
To stand (sit, sing, dance, play) in your own space and know you are there.

This is what you and I learn in your lessons - 
Where you learn from yourself how to be yourself -
Within the invitation of my touch and enquiry,
Both of us teacher and both of us student.

It'a a commitment to you, by you;
                                                     You are your own life's work.
                                                                                                     Best be awake to this amazing fact.

Lessons - where you make discoveries, not get-done-to,
Where you invest in finding your self again, because 
You're waiting, just there in the wings.

And the discomfort you came with?

Likely improving.
It was tied up with you being someone you thought you ought to be,
Or with the collapse of futility from thinking you weren't doing you well enough,
Or with the wise-yet-resistant tension from being asked to be other than who you are.
Being pushed about creates discomfort, whether the pushing is from without or within.

Funny thing is, yes, your posture might have improved - but I never mention it, 
because it was never ever about that in the first place; 
It was about you finding out how to let yourself be you.

Saturday, 28 February 2015

Being as an active verb…..

A ponder on Doing and Being came to me yesterday - one I'd love to share with you?

Consider these two ways…?

One:

She folds the laundry off the line, clears the dishes, answers the phone, drops her pen, types five emails, wrestles with the door handle, lets the dog out, trips over a bag, fills the washing machine, lets the dog in, knocks papers on the floor, answers the phone, checks a Facebook alert, types a reply, fills the kettle, sweeps the floor, opens the cupboard, takes a mug, answers the phone, puts in a tea bag, fills the mug, opens the fridge, takes the milk, spills it, stirs the tea, wipes up the spillage, feels rattled, sits in a chair, takes a deep breath, and thinks…..
"I can't do all this. That last hour has gone and I still haven't started what I ought to be doing. I need to stop. I need to be still. My back hurts. I need to find myself. My head is exploding. I need to relax. I need help. I'm going to stop for the rest of the day. I'm going to meditate and then lie down. Tomorrow is another day and I'm sure I'll catch up ok...."

Two:
She moves towards the washing-line noticing how the line is also moving towards her.
Her fingertips  oppose each other so simply to release the pegs, and the pegs release the clothing.
Her fingertips experience the texture of each of the fabrics as she takes the items off the line.
She relishes the folding of the garments, wonders at the precision the usually ignored wisdom in her that knows how to fold so nearly.
She layers the clothes in the basket.
She lets her hands attach on either side of the basket and stands herself up. Being attached to her, the basket simply comes up too.
She walks to the bedroom and places the basket on the bedroom floor, enjoys the moment her hands soften off its edges, stands fully, breathing quietly.

She walks lightly towards the kitchen where she sees the dishes and moves to put them away.
Her fingertips wonder at the smoothness of the china, the metal of the pans, the pattern of the cutlery - each item gifting her a sensory experience around weight, size, colour, pattern, texture, shape.
She stacks the items within cupboard, drawer, shelf as needed, enjoying the order that is being created by her service.

She finishes as the phone rings.
She pauses during the ring in which she remains still, letting the sound enter her ears, and then decides to answer.
She walks to her phone.
She takes in the caller's name as it flows towards her eyes - no need for her to take her eyes to the phone.
She extends her arm by leading from the fingertips which then wrap softly around the phone.
Her arm quietly bends at the wrist, elbow and shoulder to enable the phone to come up to her ear for the conversation.
The whole movement a gentle dance.

She ends the call and allows her arm to lower the phone to the table where her fingers uncurl and release it.
She breathes.
She sits at the table, present to the movements she makes in order for this to happen; the act is normally so subconscious, yet awareness gifts her the wonder of how much she can move without even knowing what is happening.
How much of life is being missed by not noticing….
A sudden rush of gratitude floods through her.

Her fingers leading, she opens the laptop.
Her eyes take in the screen letting the images come to her, rather than her eyes going to the screen.
She chooses which email to reply to first and breathes.
Within the breath come the words to type.
Her fingertips lightly meet each key as is needed - a light contact as they dance over the keyboard creating the music of words.
Her awareness taking in the words,
          the sensation of her fingertips,
               her bottom resting on the chair,
                      her feet on the floor,
                            the wind blowing outside,
                                  the music playing on the radio,
                                       her breath cool under her nostrils as it passes into her lungs….

So much information about the present that is usually crushed under the thoughts about the past or future…..

She hears the dog scratching at the door to go out.
She allows the image of him to enter her eyes as she truly sees him as if never before - his alert intention to his request, ears cocked, eyes bright, totally present to her moves to see whether she has got his message.
She stands to open the door.
Her soft hand, empty of any handle she has ever turned before, turns the handle….

Can you see what is happening here?
Rest is happening within action, not after it.
And time is slowing down.

In the first way there is a constant rushing to get somewhere, even if just to the end of the list.
The second way is the somewhere.
The typing and the folding, the kettle-filling and the tea drinking require action, yet her presence to the actions - her being with each touch, sound, sight, smell, and taste - is the somewhere.
And also the no-where; there is nowhere to get to; she's right there, in it all the time.

She feels no need to rest in reaction to a rushing and a doing; her doing is now her being.
Her being quietly births her intention she then finds to be done.

Body-Full-Ness.
                              Embodied Mindfulness.
                                                                        Mindfulness in Activity.
                                                                                                                  Wonder in Motion.

Try it now and tell me what happens?


Wednesday, 25 February 2015

Discoveries with Annie go like this…. Part 1.







You come in for your appointment and we talk a while. 
I invite you to sit - just how you would like, or are able to.
I ask you what your need is - how you would like to be.
I share a little about how your body is designed to work beautifully - 
I often use models and 'toys' for this - 
Bright colours and soft humour igniting your imagination.
You often smile in a quiet joyful recognition of what might be going on in your body.

I ask you if I might use a gentle touch - 
That my hands are my best 'eyes and ears'.

I ask you to stay just as you are - no need to adjust your shape,
That there is no right and wrong in my mind - 
That we are simply going to discover where you are right now;
After all, where else are we going to begin?

I place my hands on your back, maybe your shoulder...

And wait.

I let you come to a place of stillness from sensing that nothing need happen.
That I am not 'putting you right'.
That you don't have to try to be ok.
And often you will say, "I feel something change, but you're not doing anything?"
And I explain how the body has an innate wisdom, that it knows how to be free.
That we get in its way - pushing it into what we think it should or has to be.
That 'the body' is really you - it's just we're encouraged to forget this -
And just tighten ourself into who we think we ought to be.

Sensing my unconditional hands your body softly sighs in relief of being re-cog-nised.

I invite you to notice you from the inside - and physically, not intellectually. 
To go to your feet, your knees, your back - from the inside.
To the place where you make a soft print on the floor.
A footprint - your footprint - in gold leaf between your sole and ground. 
The print your knee and back make on the inside of your trouser leg, your waistband.

My hands assisting you, you wonder at the softenings and releasings taking place.

We ask others to 'put us right', 
Never stopping to ask if this 'right' is really right for us,
And never first letting go of the 'oughts'.
You and me, together, we melt them away. 
You are revealed.