Today’s post was supposed to be about the word “multivocal,” which was a Word of the Day that popped up into my email a month or so ago. I’m not sure what I was going to write about, but it would’ve been something important, I’m sure.
And then Monday happened.
I sang a funeral in the morning and then came home and helped my husband put away stuff in the TV room (basement). We had put new floors in and had had to empty out our wine fridge to be able to move it for the flooring guys. Since I’d noticed a few discrepancies when I would check the inventory, I thought we should do a thorough overview of what exactly we had. When we were done, I had found some changes that needed to be made, so, while my lunch was heating up, I ran upstairs to get my laptop so I could access the database before I started teaching in an hour and a half.
I walked into the office and I tripped up on the rug. It was a trip from which you can’t recover – I flew through the air and landed, chin first, on the back of my desk chair. There was blood everywhere. I was spitting out blood (and hoping there wouldn’t be teeth coming out with it), and it was gushing out of my mouth and chin. And it turned out, my right index finger had been gashed open as well (no idea how that happened). I have stitches in my chin, in my mouth right at the juncture of my lip and gum, and in my index finger.
Oh, and I broke my right kneecap. Which didn’t even hurt at the time.
No teaching this week. I’m resting, eating soft foods, and I’m just generally cranky. I’m really not in a lot of pain, except my lower lip looks like shredded meat and I seem to be in a perpetual pout.
Well, it’s no wonder that I’m pouting. I’m angry that I’m so clumsy.
I also started Alexander Technique training via Total Vocal Freedom and today, something was said that made me re-think my definition of myself as being “so clumsy.” Which is a term used about me by myself and others as far back as I can remember.
Alexander Technique is about wholeness and awareness. It is about addressing use, rather than specifically intervening in order to address function. And use of your body informs your function.
Today one of the teachers said that the story you tell yourself informs your use, which then informs your function.
As a singer, this could mean:
- “I can’t sing high notes” (story)
- When I approach a high note, my larynx rises and cuts me off (story)
- “I can’t sing high notes” (function)
You might also call this a “self-fulfilling prophecy.”
I realized my story is: “I am a clumsy person” (i.e., “I trip, therefore I am”). My use of my body is less than mindful, which means that I trip on rugs, my feet, dogs, air. My function is then affected because I am not using my body mindfully and I injure myself (in this particular case, having to slurp soup because my mouth is compromised).
I need to change my story. Here’s the new one.
- I am a mindful person (story)
- I enter rooms aware of my surroundings (use)
- I remain upright (function)
“The Alexander Technique is a way of learning to move mindfully through life.” I’m ready to adopt this way of learning and stop falling down.
What is your story? How is it informing your use? How is that, in turn, informing your function? Tell me about it in the comments.
I’ll be back in the studio on Monday (hopefully less swollen!) and I have a few openings if you’d like to talk about
telling your story, and using your voice and body more efficiently in order to function effortlessly and efficiently.
Contact me here if you have any questions.
2 thoughts on “Changing My Story”