The Living Spiral

On rotation, curiosity and the body's oldest language

Before you read on, try something.

Stand where you are.

Let your eyes travel slowly to the left—not your head, just your eyes.

Then allow your head to follow.

Then your neck.

Then your shoulders.

Then your ribs.

Then your pelvis.

Don't try to rotate.

Simply follow where your eyes lead.

Notice what happens.

Did your body move in separate pieces, or did something begin to reorganise as a whole?

I've been teaching yoga alongside the Alexander Technique for many years, and one question has stayed with me.

Why do we speak so little about rotation in the Alexander Technique?

We speak about lengthening and widening, about sitting and standing, about the relationship between the head, neck, and back. All of these are fundamental.

Yet rotation—the gentle spiral—is one of the body's most natural ways of organising movement.

Walking is rotational.

Reaching is rotational.

Turning towards a voice is rotational.

Life rarely happens in straight lines.

As a yoga teacher, rotation has always been one of my richest tools—not because twisting is important in itself, but because spiralling invites the whole person to participate.

So I began asking myself:

How can I explore rotation while remaining completely within the Alexander Technique?

Gradually, I discovered that the doorway wasn't in the torso.

It was in the eyes.

When the eyes move with genuine curiosity, the head wants to follow.

The neck is invited to remain free.

The back responds.

Without trying to rotate, the whole person begins to organise around the simple act of looking.

Primary Control has entered the movement.

I often explore this in hands-on work, especially when helping someone rise from a chair.

When I invite the eyes to lead and a gentle spiral to emerge, standing becomes less like lifting and more like dancing.

People are often surprised by the ease that follows.

Not because they have learned a new technique.

Because the body remembers something it already knew.

Perhaps that's what we do as Alexander teachers.

We don't simply teach movements.

We awaken movement memories.

I'm curious...

Do you consciously explore rotation in your teaching?

If so, how has it influenced your work?