The execution of an action by no means proves that we know, even superficially, what we are doing or how we are doing it. If we attempt to carry out an action with awareness – that is, to follow it in detail – we soon discover that even the simplest and most common of actions, such as getting up from a chair, is a mystery, and that we have no idea at all how it is done.
Moshe Feldenkrais 1
From Contemplation to Integration explores how a contemplative approach can be applied not just to photography2 but to movement, action and behavior.
As a student of Zen, I was moved by the pioneering research of Elsa Gindler 3, Heinrich Jacoby 4 and one of their students, Charlotte Selver 5 (she introduced Sensory Awareness to the US) because their work has a strong connection to Zen Buddhism. They aim to experience the body, our senses with a still but open mind, weakening the importance of the sense-of-self rather than trying to assert or improve it.
As Jacoby remarks, “there is something wrong if we only deal with the ‘mind’ and something wrong, too, if we deal only with the ‘body’ “. When mind and body do come together, they are one and we feel fully alive.
The practice of experiencing oneself when the mind is still is not like any other practice we are used to. Allowing to be led and learn by feeling from within is very different.
Let me highlight some of the requirements for this kind of practice.
Requirements
All forms of Buddhism tell us: we are not the doers; we do not “know”how to do things as Feldenkrais reminds us. We know it only superficially. Most of what we know is second-hand knowledge and not our own. To accept this truth, we have to become more skeptical about the knowledge we have accumulated in our lives and be willing to question and investigate what we take for granted.
In Zen, through the practice of discernment, we learn how to be present, how to clear our mind of distractions. It means we may have to unlearn a great deal of what we have learned. However, the stillness of mind alone is not sufficient. It makes us distant and detached observers if we don’t apply it to how we live. For instance, picture-making takes on a different character, if discernment is applied to photography. It becomes fresh, alive, and fulfilling.
To look more deeply requires a preparedness to confront ourselves. Feelings of dissatisfaction, unease, tension, or noticing disturbing patterns of behavior are welcome because they serve as productive indicators. They alert us to the fact that something is not quite right. Trying to find a solution, we become motivated and interested in finding out how to act and behave differently. We become more attentive and observe closely and discover what it feels like to function as a whole – as one.
The Practice of Discernment
E. Gindler and H. Jacoby shared the same approach and were opposed to giving it a name. Together they gave workshops in the 1920s and 1930s. The focus was on body movement and behavior. For them, discernment meant becoming aware in detail of what it is like to move more “naturally” or behave more “appropriately”. It was about learning how to let solutions emerge by themselves – from a mind that is still.
They encouraged their students to discover, through trial and error, through self-experimentation, and observation.
E. Gindler got her students interested in how to move harmoniously (for lack of a better term she called it at one time “harmonic gymnastics”). She was not interested in teaching particular movements, nor did she demonstrate how to do it. What she did was ask her students to work it out for themselves, to learn to differentiate what it feels like when you allow things to happen to you, and what it feels like when you exert yourself inappropriately, when you strain, when you move mechanically. You learn how much more you have to “allow” and how much less you need to “do”.
To be calm and centered changes one’s experience and one begins to understand more deeply and connects with what was separate before. For instance, being centered changes the quality of how we move and it allows movements to become more expressive.
H. Jacoby was a musician, a researcher, and a pedagogue who started as a pianist and conductor. It struck him how the quality of a performance fluctuates, depending on personal or external factors. His fundamental insight was that everyone is naturally capable to be still, open, and creative. For him, to be ‘ungifted’ does not mean a lack of of talent. It means it is a failure to connect fully with what one cares about. In contrast, when engaged, one is present and responds appropriately to the situation at hand. One is not distracted by a to-do list or by personal needs like the need for recognition, admiration, or success. The “doer” attitude does not allow us to connect with ourselves and the world around us. The hard work consists of struggling to remain open and receptive, letting things happen.
Appropriate behavior in this context is not something rational, predictable, or useful. It is a unified, behavioral response that emerges spontaneously from a specific situation.
Discussion
E. Gindler and H. Jacoby start with the body, with movement, action, and behavior. They emphasized the importance of a still mind and outline a process of discernment that leads to clarity of movement, action and “appropriate” behavior. It is an open-ended process, a process that encourages improvisation. However, there is no clear path but eventually, you get the “feel” what is right and enjoy it. You find your own way – on the way.
We tend to separate our mind from the body but as soon as the reflective mind, the need for control, for knowledge, for attention becomes involved, the unity of the creative process breaks down. Lacking center, there is no clarity anymore in thought, movement, action, or behavior
Three examples of a unified, integrated response:
“The flash of perception” 6 is a moment of clarity when we are “at one” with our perception .
Secondly, tennis players often tell us they are at their best when they enjoy their play. When they are “in the zone” play is effortless.
Lastly, consider a piano player: Technique alone is not good enough. A good pianist gets to know the intelligence of the hand. He/she has to discover what disturbs the fluency of his/her play and most important is to get the feel of the optimal posture of the hand and the quality of his/her “touch”. Clarity clicks into place when a pianist connects with hands and fingers. To be one with them wakes them up and one begins a new life through the play of the hand.
Comments
As I mentioned at the beginning, Gindler’s and Jacoby’s work moved me. They went far in exploring Buddhist mindfulness. I found what I was looking for. Like the missing piece to a puzzle, it helped to see clearly how one could integrate a contemplative approach, not just with photography, but with all aspects of life.
By becoming one with our intentions, we allow ourselves to be captivated. Even the most ordinary activity can open our eyes and transform us. Being open and receptive, we become more sensitive and there is less of a tendency to act in a way that causes pain to oneself and others.
You may think what I am writing about is not anything new. But as long as we have not made it our own, it is not ours. It just remains an interesting idea among many and we move on to the next. On the other hand, if what is true becomes our own it is new and fresh.
To experience moments of unity remains a mystery. The good news is that we can facilitate their occurrence. It challenges the widely held belief that the brain can explain the mind. They are not one, neither are they two. This mystery is addressed in Buddhism: My Zen teacher would say “when mind and body are separate, they are different; when together they are one but not the same”
Notes
ยน Feldenkrais, Moshe. Awareness Through Movement. New York: Harper Collins Paperback Edition, 1990; p.46.
2 Mohelsky, Helmut. Seeing with Your Own Eyes: The Zen of Photography. 2019.
3 Gindler, Elsa-von ihrem Leben und Wirken. “wahrnehmen, was wir empfinden”. Darstellung von Sophie Ludwig. Bearbeitung: Marianne Haag. 3. Auflage. Hrsg.: Heinrich Jacoby-Elsa Gindler Stiftung, Berlin.
4 Jacoby, Heinrich. Beyond ‘Gifted’ and ‘Ungifted’. Translated from German by Angela Brewer and Susan George. Heinrich Jacoby Elsa GIndler Stiftung, 2018.
5 Selver, Charlotte and Charles V.W. Brooks. reclaiming vitality and presence. sensory awareness as a practice of life. North Atlantic Books, Berkeley, California; 2007
6 Karr, Andy & Wood Michael. The Practice of Contemplative Photography. Boston & London, 2011.