“There are places where we feel calm or that provide us with space to think; places we feel a deep pull towards or that have a physical effect on us when we visit; places where we feel ‘at home’ or that make us feel complete.”
I noticed this quote from the National Trust’s new Places that Make Us report because it echoes the Alexander concept of ‘psycho-physical unity’ – that mind and body work as a whole, and what we do with one affects the other. If I want space for body and mind then I feel drawn towards water. The most tranquil place is the New River – not a river but an aqueduct engineered to bring fresh drinking water to London in the 17th century.
Here I find quiet and autumn colours, birdlife, dog owners and children being taken to school. I have a camera in my hand; people are friendly and greet me warmly. No rush, I can sit quietly and enjoy birdsong and silence. Sometimes a local artist sets up her easel to paint by the old watchman’s hut. The heron stands hidden but wary; I admire its balance and the easy turn of its neck.
To negotiate the second stretch of water I too have to be alert. The narrow canal towpath is grittier and more competitive, with differing views on speed, space and entitlement. To manage this I need to think ‘up’ with my Alexander directions, breathe easily, be aware of what’s around me, and take whatever comes in my stride.
Cyclists move fast, heading into work in determined fashion. Runners follow, chatting in twos, easier to hear as they overtake. Then come dog or casual walkers like me, more at ease, holding our own, ducking lightly under each bridge. It’s too early for anglers to sit safely on the path and no canal boats or canoes are on the move just yet.
London’s housing crisis is here in microcosm – two semi-permanent tents pitched by the towpath and canal boats in use as affordable living space. One of the striking things in my Alexander life is how often people stop me to ask for directions, responding perhaps to open body language. Sure enough, two stranded tourists want the canalside café. I point to the lock beyond the next bridge and move on.
My third destination is the Thames. Sometimes I walk along the riverbanks or venture onto the muddy foreshore, envying the mudlarks as they dig for finds. Recently I spent a late summer’s day on the river, sailing on a paddle steamer towards the Thames Estuary. The river has tides and timetables that can’t be ignored, but there’s also a calm detachment as the banks and rivercraft drift by. This is the Alexander concept of ‘means whereby’ in action – the journey’s the thing, not the port of arrival. The mood on board is cheerful. We wave at the Southend lifeboat out for a spin, and to cruise ship passengers heading for the Channel.
FM Alexander was clear that body and mind act as one, and I’m slowly integrating the two as I continue my training. My experience also bears out the National Trust’s research that a physical visit to a special place has a long-term emotional and psychological impact. Moving on or near these watery spaces changes my thinking, leaving me energised, calmer, more content and with new perspectives and enlarged horizons. Which special places do you visit, and what effect do they have?