Balls

Reading time: 5:30 minutes.

He threw his plane while his friend shouted from afar, “don’t throw it too high — if it reaches the sun it will burn”. - true story, Vélez Blanco, Spain

I always believed that catching objects in mid-air was an impossible task for me. As a girl I was usually the last one picked for any team sport involving a ball. The fear of not being chosen, together with my inability to catch, produced a self-fulfilling prophecy. I spent my childhood and adulthood unable to grab anything thrown through the air towards my hands. If something similar happens to you (or to someone close to you), don’t worry: there is hope.

For a while now I’ve been surprising myself by precisely catching the balls my nephews throw at me. For some of you this may not sound like a great feat but, considering what I’ve just told you, to me it’s incredible!

How did it happen?

Tim Gallwey says, in his book “The Inner Game of Tennis”:

“In my best moments of play, I wasn’t trying to control my shots with constant instructions and evaluations. It was a much simpler process than that. I saw the ball clearly, chose where I wanted to hit it, and let it happen. Surprisingly, the shots were more precise when I wasn’t trying to control them… The critical inner dialogue produced a state of mind very different from the quiet focus experienced by the best athletes.”

The “inner game” the book refers to is the one that happens in the player’s mind. The text teaches you to overcome obstacles arising from harmful habits such as lack of concentration, nerves, doubts and judgments. It claims we have a “Self 1” and a “Self 2”.

“Self 1” is the voice in our mind that wants to control the experience and tell us how to do things, judging them once they’re done. It tends to be quite demanding and intolerant. Sometimes it tells me things like “you’re terrible”, “nothing is working today” and other beauties of that kind. “Self 2”, on the other hand, is the one who allows things to happen instead of making them happen. A relaxed mind and a receptive body achieve better coordination: they take in the surrounding space, the speed of the flying object and other variables, and bring your hand exactly where it needs to be to catch it.

I understand that “Self 1” has good intentions and wants the best for me but, now that I know it better, I no longer wish to listen to it so much. What I want is for each of them to guide me when appropriate, without “Self 1” interfering in the activities “Self 2” knows how to do perfectly well. These two parts are often in conflict, fighting for power, when it would be lovely if they cooperated — both contribute to the richness of the experience.

The key to getting better at catching balls, or at any other skill, lies in adjusting the relationship between the way “Self 1” speaks and the natural capacities of “Self 2”. But how is that done? By learning to focus attention on something simple. That helps the brain receive the information it needs and removes the interference, so that “Self 2” can emerge.

That “something simple” I’m referring to means being aware of the present moment, without judging it. Being here and now is something you have to practise, because the mind loves going to the past to replay mistakes, or to the future to hunt for fears. Arriving at presence, in my case, has been possible thanks to the Alexander Technique, because I always had great difficulty meditating.

The radical change in my ability finally came because I practised — a lot — letting go of judging myself, of controlling my experience, and of worrying too much about results. That is what created the conditions for catching balls every time they’re thrown at me.

But I want to clarify one more thing. When I say I stopped judging myself, I don’t mean ignoring what goes wrong, but observing without evaluating, adopting an investigative attitude, watching the facts without immediately interpreting them: being guided by curiosity. Learning skills was important in my process, but even more valuable was learning to trust myself and to focus my attention on the now, effortlessly.

It’s beautiful to think of the human being in constant evolution. When we look at the seed of a tree we don’t think “what a pathetic attempt at a tree.” We understand that every moment of its process is valuable, and we only have to create the conditions it needs to develop and grow. There is no version better than the previous one; they are simply different manifestations.

I feel that my process with the Alexander Technique gave me the conditions of calm and safety to accept myself exactly as I am. And so trust kept growing, until my attention could finally rest — leaving behind the hypervigilance and anticipation that were, in the end, what kept me from catching balls.