Week 4: Day 17 – Science

“You can’t change the course of Nature by co‑ordinating yourself.” FM Alexander

A few years ago I had the privilege of working with a long‑time student of movement, someone who had spent decades exploring his body through Alexander, Feldenkrais and various dance practices. He knew himself well. He was curious, articulate, sensitive and deeply attuned. And yet his body was changing in ways he could not control. A serious medical condition meant his spine was slowly collapsing. He needed treatments, surgeries and ongoing medical care. He was in pain most of the time.

We both knew I couldn’t treat his condition. He told me the medicine was buying him a bit more time. But he also knew that some of the ways he was in pain were from misusing himself and these were from old habits, not his illness. As a teenager he had folded his arms in the same way every day, always right over left. He stood mostly on his left leg. These patterns had nothing to do with his diagnosis. They were simply the familiar shapes he had grown into.

Working with him over several years was humbling. Helping him lie down could be painful, so we took our time. When he stayed breathable and let his head lead, the movement almost did itself. Nature asserted itself the moment he stopped trying to manage or brace. My hands guided his attention to places where there was ease, or even pleasure. He could talk to his body kindly. He could explore undulations and rotations through his spine, done in the way nature prefers: the head leading, the spine following in sequence.

This is what Alexander meant. We are not trying to change nature. We are working with nature, what is already there. Even in a body that seemed to be failing him, his inherent coordination was still present. His capacity for direction was still intact. His system still knew how to organise itself when he stopped interfering.

He used himself so well that he wasn’t eligible for extra financial support. Everyone else with his condition got this, except him.  He could still put on his socks and dry himself after a shower. He was slightly annoyed by this, but mostly proud. His mobility was a testament to his lifelong practices.

One of the most surprising things we worked on was his sudden urge to pee. You know that moment when you reach for the final door handle and the urgency spikes? For him it was intense. Instead of tightening or rushing, we explored how to redirect his thinking. One thing that worked for him as an ex dancer was to go onto his tiptoes, this gave him something else to attend to. It sent his energy upward. The urgency reduced. He always made it to the loo in time. It was a small miracle of his ability to harness his natural coordination, attention and trust in such a heightened moment.

Even in his last weeks, he worked with himself gently. He stayed curious. He stayed kind. He stayed open to learning. His natural coordination never disappeared. It simply needed room to express itself, even in the midst of everything he was facing.

I miss you, dear Nigel.