My words are words of a questioning, and to indicate reality;
This printed and bound book.... but the printer and the printing-office boy?
The marriage estate and settlement.... but the body and mind of the bridegroom? also those of the bride?
The panorama of the sea.... but the sea itself?
The well-taken photographs... but your wife or friend close and solid in your arms?
The fleet of ships of the line and all the modern improvements.... but the craft and pluck of the admiral?
The sky up there.... yet here or next door or across the way?
The saints and sages of history.... but you yourself?
Sermons and creeds and theology.... but the human brain, and what is called reason, and what is called love, and what is called life?
Whitman, Song of Myself (1082-1091)
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How is it that a child can flail and scream about something insignificant, and the parents can easily ignore the tantrum, but Mahatma Gandhi can silently refuse food and bring a nation to a halt? How does the placation, "Friends, Romans, Countrymen lend me your ears...." bring about a riot? How do the actions of a small band of soldiers in Thermopylae resound through history?
I saw a performance of So You Think You Can Dance live a few months ago. I was struck by one dancer - a club dancer named Russell. His movements burst forth so that he was all I could see. There were some technical aspects to this phenomenon. His body works well; the parts are integrated, making each movement look fuller. But I have been just as captivated by dancers whose bodies move around the stage like a sack of potatoes. The technical can't explain everything, however I will speak about the technical aspects of integration, trying to get to a deeper meaning.
When the integrated body reaches outwards, the limbs reach to the fullest extent that the body is capable of reaching. The non-integrated body tends to try to reach a little farther, and this is done at the expense of some other part. For instance, when the arm extends forward, an integrated movement would look exactly like you expect. The non-integrated movement would "collapse" or further extend the shoulder, so that it seems to protrude from the natural lie of the body.
Furthermore, in the integrated body, movement flows from the center outwards. I saw a beautiful example of this is Ted Shawn's Death of Adonis. I wish I had a youtube clip to share, but it was off a DVD. His arms were fully extended in 2nd position. He turned his arms and hands upwards to the sky, and you could watch the movement originate in the back and shoulder blades, ripple upwards through the arms, and finally, exultantly, reach the wrists and hands. It gives me chills.
In a still, integrated body, the lines of gravity flow efficiently through the center of gravity and downwards into the earth. This body can relax in a neutral position. The fully relaxed and centered person can move the quickest. Their muscles simply need to fire, and this will result in the desired motion. For most of us who cannot fully relax or hold ourselves well, we need to make all SORTS of compensations. I have seen a series of photos of O-sensei, where he is standing in the midst of four men holding bokken (wooden sword). All are relaxed in the first photo - bokken down. In the second, the bokken rise to strike. O-sensei remains still. In the third, they have reached their peak. Still he does not move. In the last photo, the bokken reach the end of their strike, and he is standing outside the circle - perfectly still.
I believe that to throw a punch, dance, pour a cup of tea is not defined by the action inherent. Some other multitude of factors, mostly unperceived, must lie behind every action. And at the base of this... necessarily the spirit. A great why. For what reason do we perform this action? This fundamental aspect necessarily dictates the end action. It seems to me, however, that we cannot simply purify our spirit. We do not have direct access (and for this reason, nor do we have the ability to rightly judge the actions around us). We have to work backwards through the realm of actions and senses until we come to the heart of ourselves. This is the purpose of training, and also the answer to how certain actions are inherently different from seemingly similar ones.
I am seeking spiritual integration. I don't pretend to know what this really means. I imagine that the zen master's actions are so mystifying, because he acts with an integrated spirit. Indeed how could I ever make sense of the Sermon on the Mount without this? I act like a sack of potatoes. Throwing myself this way and that, and letting one tiny part carry the rest of the body someplace I never intended.
