Altered States

She was German and he was French and words were lost between them. But, a breeze swept off the water, fanning the warm summer night, and they followed each other, using the simplest of signs, into a world all their own. We watched, charmed by the easiness of it all.

We were, also, intrigued by their differences. Not in terms of language or culture -- they were, after all, only four years-old -- but, by something even more fundamental.

Sybille had a wide stance and often stood settled into one hip. Her shoulders slouched foreward ever-slightly. For a little girl, she looked surprisingly steady. We imagined her doing tai-chi at dawn or hitchhiking her way across Eastern Europe, with a dreadlocked head dwarfed, even more, under a giant backpack.

Vincent, on the other hand, skimmed over the floor on tiptoes. He stood perched like a meercat watching for jackals in a high stretch of grass. He, we thought, could be the prince in a ballet or flagging down a taxi on a drizzly New York day.

Sybille organized herself from the bottom-up; Vincent, from the top-down.

How we organize ourselves has to do with our character and build, which, in turn, has to do with our genes, God, karma, chance, stars or any combination of these, depending on how we interpret, analyze or perceive the universe. But, in general, if the way we organize ourselves works well for a certain activity, people just say that we have a talent. And, we assume it comes from somewhere.

But, is the idea of talent -- of innate ability -- accurate or helpful? What about our talent for change? After all, change is the one thing we've all been doing remarkably well since conception.

Here's an exercise for clarifying intention and possibilities. It's gentle on the body and, yet, has deep repercussions.













Segment Exercise #1

1) Lie down on a smooth surface, on your back, with arms by your sides. Place the bottom of your feet on the floor, knees pointing up. Feel your weight settle with each breath you take. Mentally, travel from your feet upwards, feeling your major segments and breathing. Tell yourself: My feet are heavy. My lower legs are heavy. My thighs are heavy... continuing with every segment and bit you can locate, up to your head.

2) Imagine that someone is sitting on the floor, a few yards away, in the direction of your head. He's a puppeteer and is holding a string that runs along the floor and is attached to the middle finger of your right hand. He pulls the string slowly, drawing your hand towards him. The hand moves first, then the forearm is implicated, and, finally, the upper arm and shoulder. Each segment remains heavy and drags on the floor. Verify that you aren't lifting your arms to assist. Remember: You're merely a puppet being manipulated. A heavy, happy puppet, in very good hands.

3) Now, the reverse happens. Someone's sitting a few yards from your feet and pulls the same string. Your hand's engaged, then your forearm, then your upper arm. Whether going up or coming back down, your arm finishes where it finishes. Don't reajust; don't try to make things tidy or complete.

4) Do the same thing with the string attached to the middle of your forearm and see what happens.

5) Do the same thing with the string attached to the middle of your upper arm.

6) Do the sequence again, on the left side.

It's a simple exercise that takes a lot of imagination and concentration. With practice, you can abandon your body, more and more, to the puppeteers; you can start to feel like someone else is really doing all the physical work.

As you become comfortable with the process and your newfound schizophrenia, observe how each segment of your arm is different. Observe how and when each segment engages the others, which parts slide gracefully and which ones roll and flop around in seeming-disorder. It's the same activity organized three different ways. Observe how each organization touches the rest of the body differently.

[To be continued on Thursday.]