Walking through the Tutankhamen exhibit at the Pacific Science Center a few days ago was a feast of storytelling through art.   While standing next to statues and hieroglyphs that I had previously only seen in my art history books, I was deeply touched to be walking next to “stories” from humans from so long ago.   Our deep enjoyment of story-telling and story-receiving has been part of being human for as long as we have records of humans.

We are in a season of stories—traditions around all the solstice-related celebrations include many stories.  Each story invites us to experience the world from a different viewpoint.  Each year at this time, as I hear stories from so many traditions, I remember  one of Denise Levertov’s poems.  She uses one of the seasons’ stories to celebrate the freedom of choice at the heart of our humanness.  Here is an excerpt from her poem, “The Annunciation”….

We know the scene: the room, variously furnished,
almost always a lectern, a book; always
the tall lily.

Arrived on solemn grandeur of great wings,
the angelic ambassador, standing or hovering,
whom she acknowledges, a guest.

But we are told of meek obedience. No one mentions
courage
The engendering Spirit
did not enter her without consent. God waited.

She was free
to accept or refuse, choice
integral to humanness.

Aren't there annunciations
of one sort or another in most lives?
Some unwillingly undertake great destinies,
enact them in sullen pride,
uncomprehending.

More often those moments
when roads of light and storm
open from darkness in a man or woman,
are turned away from
in dread, in a wave of weakness, in despair
and with relief.
Ordinary lives continue.

God does not smite them.
But the gates close, the pathway vanishes.

Celebrating our courage, and I am including the daily, perhaps mundane moments of courage along with the to the “life-changing” moments,  could be a key to keeping our own gates open.

Greeting the New Year with Process

While listening to one of several radio interviews with Charles Duhigg , author of The Power of Habit,  I recognized much of what I have learned through incorporating the Alexander Technique deeply in my life

Each time I have heard him, however, I have felt a little “unease” with the emphasis that the title gives to his work--habit. This time as I listened, I realized that my unease was perhaps coming from an incongruity between the title of his book and his message. 

It seems to me that what he really cares about is the power of process—that it is possible to respond to habits in freedom rather than compulsion.

And, in my newly acquired copy of his work, that is exactly what he says at the end of the prologue.  “We now know why habits emerge, how they change, and the science behind their mechanics. We know how to break them into parts and rebuild them to our specifications…..Transforming a habit isn’t necessarily easy or quick.  It isn’t always simple.  But it is possible.  And we understand how.”

How elegantly the process of using the Alexander Technique matches some of what I have read already!  The great gift of the Alexander Technique is its offer of a process that can be deeply integrated into every moment of life—creating the cue to make the choice you want, the specific response to the cue, and the reward of a more and more responsive coordination.

I wonder if the book would have gotten the same “buzz” if it was called “The Power of Process.”    We do have a way of responding to what we might think we don’t want – i.e. habit. (remembering that some of our habits, like tying our shoes, are very handy to have).

Yet what we need is beyond that—it is the Yes beyond our current idea of habits—the “yes” of a Constructive process.