It's night time now, and the Mullumbimby moon is just past being full.

Tomorrow at 6am - in Australia - I start my online group teaching course, and enter a new world. Like most things I do, one of my motivations is my belief that the best way to go deeper into anything is to teach it to others.

There is a huge future for our work in online teaching - and the promise of Alexander's discovery being more widely disseminated and utilized. I intend to be surfing at the front of this Tsunami.

A new idea about Group Teaching has recently taken grip in my mind.

I spent today preparing and recording the first class for my Group Teaching Discovery Course, which starts July 10th. And I got clearer and clearer about it…

Have you ever noticed - just when a student is starting to do best - they decide to leave?

Saying things like:

“Got so much to work on now, so grateful.”

Or

“I am feeling overwhelmed; I need time to digest.”

Or

“It’s getting hard to find time – I think I need a little break. I’ll be back.”

It’s crap. It’s the conscious mind being duped by the mammal inside.

In a session - just yesterday - an ATSuccess member asked an innocent question:

“Do I need to be an expert of a student’s activity, to be able to help them?”

Intellectually it’s obvious – Tiger Woods’ coach doesn’t play golf like Tiger! Does that stop him seeing areas for development? Older, beer-gutted men are often coaching baseball teams in America – would these old guys survive on the field?

No.

Suddenly my phone is screaming at me…

(Who is calling at this late hour!?)

"Hallo, BodyChance Studio.

I'm sorry, but now we are close—"

"Please can you help me!?"

(I think: shouldn't we at least do names first?)

"Who is this speaking?"

"Oh I'm sorry, my name is Harry."

(I guess he needs to have this conversation now…)

"What's the problem Harry?"

"I am in a lot of pain. I can't stand it."

An unpleasant experience when leading a group, is to have a participant strongly opposing and contradicting you. Leading a charge against you.

I used to think that! Now I look forward to it…

Because whatever you think they are doing, THAT flows from your perception.

What if they are not doing that?

What if what they want is understanding, clarity and completion? Wouldn't you "listen differently" if you perceived them that way?

You can develop the space in your mind to see them however you wish.

Years ago, a Journalist from a popular “alternative cool” magazine called “Kokoro” – which means “Heart” in Japanese – came along to BodyChance’s studio in Meguro to do a feature on our work.

I suggested she come and watch “the Chancer” - thanks to Carol Ervine for my new nickname! - running a Basic Course class. Basic Course is the program we offer in Japan to the Public.

***SIDE BAR ***

BTW: the name of your group is important, even critical.

Calling our public offering “Basic Course” immediately suggests a higher level…

My first crisis happened within 2 years of my 18 years of living in Japan happened in Kyoto.

Jaldhara had our young daughter Angelica in the pram, and had just said goodbye. I turned, and started heading down the escalator to go to Tokyo…

And I tripped. I tumbled down the stairs.

And - by a remarkable confluence of unexpected factors - dislocated my arm. OUCH!

The worst part was being alone. Speaking no Japanese. Having no idea what to do next.

People have asked me:

“Why do you insist on calling our work ‘Alexander's discovery’?”

It’s a valid question, and one I continue to ask my Self. The simplist answer I have is this:

Alexander's discovery is just that, a discovery. It is not a technique or method.

It’s like the realization that the earth revolves around the sun. Knowing it doesn’t change it, but it changes you. It changes your ideas, your beleifs, your choices.

Alexander's discovery can be expressed in several different ways:

My first crisis happened within 2 years of my 18 years of living in Japan happened in Kyoto,

Jaldhara had our young daughter Angelica in the pram, and had just said goodbye. I turned, and started heading down the escalator to go to Tokyo…

And I tripped. I tumbled down the stairs. And - by a remarkable confluence of unexpected factors - dislocated my arm. OUCH!

The worst part was being alone. Speaking no Japanese. Having no idea what to do next.

So I screamed. I screamed as loud as the air in my body would let me…