Fear and Widening: an Alexander snail

F.M. Alexander brilliantly described our instinctual/habitual responses as no longer adequate for the complexity of modern life.  He proposed, and developed a technique for, a new evolution in human response, a means of constructive conscious choice that could inform all activity, whether the activity is described as primarily "mental" or primarily "physical".  He saw no separation between the aspects of human responses, and described his work as the "use of the self".

Through careful and long term self observation, Alexander identified the "startle pattern".  Simply put, the startle pattern means pulling the head down and back and contracting the limbs into the torso in response to a stimulus, resulting in overall narrowing and shortening in stature.  Interior volume and respiratory capacity is thus reduced, which also diminishes elastic support for the entire body.  Increased anxiety is also observable with narrowing and shortening, as the nervous system registers decreased overall support.

"Widening" is a direction that is often baffling for Alexander students.  Like all Alexander directions, one can't do widening.  One can, instead, dynamically refuse to narrow and request widening.  Refusing to contract arms and legs into the torso, and asking for width at the tops of the arms and tops of the legs gives an experience of being more connected to the ground, and of being more elastically supported by an overall balance of muscular tone.

All of this applies to my experience yesterday of going out for a snail's pace walk on my own.  My fear of falling, and of not being adequately supported by my injured leg, as well as a general wobbliness, stimulated an instinctual response of narrowing (pulling arms and legs into my torso in a protective manner).  However, I know better, so I stopped, over and over  (now the world's slowest snail, but never mind) and said "no" to narrowing, and requested widening.  This resulted in an immediate increase in ease and support.  As I would approach a potentially scary challenge, like crossing a street (stepping down and up curbs, feeling the need to hurry), I would take time to inhibit narrowing, and ask for widening.  Perhaps the biggest stimulus to narrow was in fact the hurry mode.  Yet, if I refused to hurry, since hurrying narrowed me, my pace actually increased!  I am sure I still looked like a snail with a cane, but who cares.

It was a lovely walk, a week and two days after my injury.  I heard many birdsongs, saw a flicker tapping on a telephone pole, spotted snow drops and crocuses and observed trees in their pre-leaf mode.  Two dogs stopped to watch me (their person was in a hurry, and thus oblivious) and I waved at them.  They wagged and dog-smiled.  I widened further and experienced the full support of my respiration.