Force of habit can be understood as the tendency for something that is done frequently to become automatic. When considered through the lens of the Alexander Technique, this has several implications. First, it means that it’s not possible to observe our actions or tendencies until after the fact, if at all. In other words, we are not present in the moment to make such observations. It also suggests that there is (almost) no space between stimulus and response; therefore, there is no chance for inhibition. This, then, indicates that we have no choice in how we act. And finally, change is impossible because we keep repeating the same patterns without awareness.
Instances of the ‘force of habit’
In this piece, I first consider some instances where the force of habit took over without my realising it. For one, I have been living temporarily on the third floor of a building, directly above the flat I grew up in—and have lived in on and off for about 29 years—while the latter gets renovated. Over the course of a few months, I have frequently found myself at the door to the second floor flat, my childhood home, and realised I have auto-piloted to a construction site, and needed to climb another flight of stairs to get to the right door. I evidently blanked out between the building gate and my front door.
During the course of my Alexander Technique teacher training, I have slowly let go of stretching before and after a dance class—something that was previously as integral to my practice as the dance itself. This monumental shift occurred not in a dance studio, but in my living room, where I practised during the pandemic. On returning to the studio recently to attend a friend’s class, I fell back into my habit of stretching. I entered the studio, put my bag down, sat in a straddle split and began to stretch forward—all without thinking. Rather than taking the time to reconnect with my neck–head–back relationship before the movement class, I defaulted to an unhelpful habit that I had cultivated over many years.
Together with the rest of the Alexander Technique community across the globe, my group of trainees let go of the word ‘monkey’ and instead adopted ‘semi-flexion’ (as suggested by John Nicholls), to describe any attitude between standing and squatting. But having used ‘monkey’ freely for a few years before this change, we caught ourselves unconsciously slipping back into the habit several times in the first few weeks. This was not an issue for newer trainees, who joined us after we had let ‘monkey’ go.
At face value, these are examples of the force of habit. But using the Alexander Technique, and the dictionary, I looked into the semantic background of this phrase ‘force of habit’ and the words it comprises. I picked out meanings and similar phrases for each word, ‘force’ and ‘habit’, and related them to what I have observed in myself. Surely there’s a possibility to rethink this phrase and lighten the baggage it comes with.
For clarity, I break my analysis into two categories: the harmful and the helpful. I situate the ideas in my own life and complement of habits (that I am aware of) in the hope that this piece inspires others to think consciously about their own. Those that don’t know me personally might appreciate knowing that I work in dance and copy-editing, so some of my examples involve these areas.
The harmful
‘Force’ is another word for an organised body of military personnel or police. I relate this definition of the word to the ballet-induced habit of pulling my stomach in all the time. My approach to this sucking in of my navel into my spine has been regimental and a sure creator of tension throughout my being.
‘To force’ is to use coercion or compulsion, which in my life manifests as cracking my knuckles (all fingers and thumbs), popping my joints, and sitting on a chair and immediately crossing my legs. Once begun, I am most often compelled by habit to go through the motions to complete these actions. I could never crack just one knuckle and stop.
Artificially hastening something is another way to force. For instance, I often eat my meals in seven minutes unless I’m actively thinking about eating slowly or using my non-dominant hand. I also speed through copy-editing manuscripts that don’t interest me so that I’m as stiff as a board by the end.
Working against will or resistance is one more implication of force. For many years, I made myself go to ballet class at 7am on weekends, even when I was exhausted and all I really needed was to sleep. I had done this for a long time, so the habit was deeply ingrained.
The last harmful definition of force involves breaking something open using effort. This is another one I honed for years—stretching to become more flexible. In doing so, I neglected to consider the adverse effects of ‘trying’ and ‘doing’ to become more open.
Now, I move to habit. It is something settled—a regular tendency or practice which can be difficult to give up. I have many of these, but one I find quite interesting comes from taking Cunningham technique dance classes. We often begin each combination of movement on the right side. As a challenge for myself during the pandemic, and particularly because my teachers on Instagram live couldn’t see what I was doing, I started combinations on the left. A typical pattern—beginning on the right—might be right front, left front, right back, left back (this may mean little to people who don’t dance, but the important part here is the order of the actions). Many times when I started the combination on the left, rather than going ‘left front, right front, left back, right back’, I would go ‘left front, right back, left back’, and then be confused about why the music and my teacher continued without me on to the last part. Instead of being present and adapting, I settled back into the old pattern.
A habit can be addictive. I wake up every day and drink at least two cups of black tea. The days that I don’t, I feel incomplete and lacking in energy. Like many people, I’m hooked on tea. I also spend more time than I’d like to admit scrolling through social media. When I look up and take stock of the time I’ve wasted, I close the app in question only to discover that, a few seconds later, I’ve reopened it and I’m staring at the same blue, meaningless screen again.
The final harmful aspect of habit includes automatic reactions to situations. My example for this is more physiological than anything, but involves some amount of expectation. When I enter new environments, particularly dusty ones, I immediately start sneezing.
The semantics and observations of ‘force’ and ‘habit’ that I have described so far need not be set in stone. With the Alexander Technique, I have the option of observing my tendencies without getting attached to or judging them. I can give myself time (inhibition) between receiving a stimulus and making a response. Then, I can choose to go through with the habit, try something different, or doing nothing (three choices). Finally, I can allow the space for patterns, especially if they are not useful, to change and evolve.
The helpful
Here I consider the helpful aspects of the meanings behind ‘force of habit’. Force represents a moral strength, a powerful effect, and according to the Star Wars films, a mystical universal energy that gives special powers or abilities. There are some patterns I make a choice to consciously (not forcefully) engage in. I reconnect with myself regularly by lying in semi-supine, allowing my breath to flow freely, looking away from screens and out the window, brewing kombucha, playing an instrument, and singing in the shower, to name just a few. For me, these are strengthening, power-giving, and life-affirming tendencies and practices. Through such directed activities, which involve constructive ways of thinking and moving, I prevent tension, stiffness, and patterns of holding and encourage vitality and expansion.
An archaic—but I think useful—meaning of habit is clothes. What I take from this is that habits/clothes are forms of expression that are not permanent. While considering my wardrobe of habits (one that I would love to be minimalist), I recognise that I can alter its composition at any time, and to anything. Using the Alexander Technique, I have discovered the profound effects that letting go of habits can have on my being. For instance, when I first stopped pulling in my stomach all the time (something I am still working on releasing entirely), my heart and breath quickened, and I felt like the floor had dropped out from under me. It was terrifying at first, but has only been liberating ever since. Embracing a fuller self, I now have much less unnecessary tension and much more breath in my stomach, and by extension, my back, hips, and whole framework. With some perspective on this habit, I can acknowledge that this and other habits are not integral to my personality or identity. I am more than my tendency to return to social media. I am also separate from my habit of inhaling my meals. I don’t need these, or any other habits to be alive. They are simply ‘clothes’ that I can put on and take off when necessary. In understanding their impermanence, I can use them to my benefit rather than letting them pull me down.
The first thing, then, is to make space for observation. We need to be present in each moment for this to be possible. By acknowledging our habits, we already shine a light on and empower ourselves. And even if we fall into a pattern—as is bound to happen—we have the option to stop, notice, and then go a different way.
To borrow a famous line, we can say, ‘May the Force (of habit) be with you.’ What we’ll really be saying is, take the space and time to observe your habits. Have the courage to let them go. And, in doing so, invite change.
This piece was first presented as a talk to the heads of training and other teacher trainees of Alexander Technique Bangalore in October 2021.
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