Recently, I have been thinking a lot about being busy. The core Alexandrian principle of inhibition invites us to pause, to not do, to undo, to do less. We practice these moments of consideration in a lesson with everyday actions like lifting an arm or turning our head.
When we leave the laboratory of the lesson, however, inhibiting in the midst of daily life is a whole other can of worms.
What does it mean to approach our whole lives with a spirit of “non-doing” or “doing less” when we have so much to do? Isn’t that paradoxical?
You may be thinking:
I can’t do that. I can’t slow down.
I need to work hard to justify my family’s investment of time and money into my training/education.
I need to be busy to feel like I am contributing to my family, to society.
I don’t know who I am without my work.
I have responsibilities and obligations. “Self-care” is a luxury I can’t afford.
As I embark upon this journey of opening a business and establishing a teaching practice, some of these very same thoughts are swimming around in my mind, affecting my whole system, affecting my waking and sleeping hours, impacting my mood.
I am writing giant long to-do lists, sending dozens of emails, following multiple leads at once for places to hold classes, and feeling exhausted and over-extended. My sense of self-worth and identity is caught up in my professional work, and I care how others perceive me.
Sound familiar?
Our thoughts and our beliefs deeply affect our state of being, the degree of excess muscular tension in our necks and whole bodies, and how we move.
When Alexander discovered that inhibition helped resolve his throat hoarseness, he didn’t stop talking and performing altogether.
He stopped talking and performing as he had done so up until that moment.
In other words, he still did the thing, but he did it differently. He changed his process, or his means whereby he communicated to his audience.
He still spoke, but he did so without gasping in air, pulling his head back and down, and depressing his larynx. Eventually, he didn’t need to slow down much, if at all, in order to speak in this new fashion. He had to stop doing the things that were getting in the way of his authentic voice.
Sounds simple, right? Then why is it so hard for many of us to change these patterns?
There are many ways to answer that question. In my experience, one of the most interesting and challenging barriers to change has to do with the underlying beliefs we hold about ourselves and our place in the world.
If I believe “I need to be busy to feel like I am contributing,” then I am likely to rush through life, focused more on checking off the tasks on the list than making meaningful connections and appreciating the present moment.
How do we revisit these beliefs without replacing them with saccharine falsehoods? The fact is, most of us don’t have all the time in the world. Many people need to work multiple jobs, or a job plus school, in order to make ends meet and realize life dreams.
I am still discovering my own answers to these questions.
Somewhere in between “doing too much” and “doing nothing” lies a sparkling middle way. In that realm, our bustling activity rests on a foundation of safety, security, and belonging. We do our work–at home, at our jobs, in the community–driven by curiosity, creativity, passion, desire for connection, desire to change the world.
It’s the how–rather than how much or how fast–that we all have the power to change.
I welcome your thoughts and wisdom! How do you balance being busy and caring for yourself?
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