In Michelangelo’s depiction of creation on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, the hands of God are electric, stretched out, and anticipatory, fully invested in an outcome. No, not at all. Take a look. They are the hands of a gourmand pointing to a choice on a dessert cart: I’ll have one of those, please. I love those hands, the index finger pointing and relaxed at the same time, the thumb and fingers dropping loosely from the downturned hand, a hand uninvested in an outcome. Take it from here Adam, that hand seems to be saying, but be careful when the fruit cart comes along. Take that hand of Michelangelo, rotate the wrist until the fingers are upturned and the index finger will naturally relax. Look at that hand. It’s the perfect piano hand. Turn it over and start playing, wrists toward one another, elbows buoyant. You’ll be amazed. You may find your hands to be in state of relaxed concentration, words I borrow from George Will. They are the hands of the Alexander Teacher, choosing to act, but uninvested in the outcome. They are the hands of blessing. Take that hand, let the wrist rotate, place it upon yourself or another in uncommitted action, and the same thing may happen for you, your friend, or your student that happened to Adam, you’ll breathe, and if not like Adam — for the first time — don’t be surprised if it feels like it.