Don’t Read This.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And don’t think about it either.

What we are thinking about when we do something (like play an instrument) makes all the difference in what happens. Think the wrong thing, and you can sound like you have never practiced a minute in your life. Think the right thing and you can achieve things you >thought< were impossible.

Can we control our thoughts? Yes and no. The usual trick at this point is to say: “Don’t think of a green apple” or something to that effect. Of course, the first thing appearing in your mind’s eye is the apple. So does that mean you can’t control your thoughts, that your mind is going to go wherever it wants, like wild horses? Not really, but there are misconceptions about this; first let’s look at the thought patterns that bind and cripple us, then some ways to change them.

Clams Clams Everywhere

The first of these is the fixation on mistakes. This seems reasonable: watch out for mistakes; they are your enemy. The problem is, what we look for, we usually find. As an example, when you buy a new car, suddenly that model is everywhere. This is because we are bombarded with an enormous, unmanageable onslaught of sensory information constantly. If we tried to process it all, we would be overwhelmed. Likewise, the important things would be grouped with the trivial, leaving us open to major disaster.

When something like the new car is on our radar, we become sensitized, and for a while we allow car models on the road to penetrate our filter system. After a while, this fades, since it no longer has any value for us. However, mistakes in our playing will always be an issue, so they never fade into the background. More than that, we want to notice mistakes when we practice, since they need to be corrected.

Behind the Eight-Ball

Another issue is that of panic and feeling as if the music is “getting away” from us when we play. This can happen in several situations: When sight-reading, when the music is complex and challenging, or when we want to improvise something logical-sounding. The sensation might be like one you would have if you suddenly realized our locked car was rolling down a hill, or if you just realized your wallet was missing. This really has nothing to do with whether we are well-prepared for the situation, although being poorly-prepared can certainly ensure that it will happen. Again, thoughts.

Someone to Watch over Me

Sit down to play, and imagine an audience of critical professional musicians and teachers listening. Or visualize your favorite musician watching your hands and evaluating every note. Sound like fun? Do you think you would give your best performance? All of us carry this unfriendly and superior audience around with us. Worse yet, unlike a real audience, they know what we >should< have played, no matter how sucessful our playing was. They also know how lame and derivitave every lick was, how we luckily stumbled on something that worked, and they heard all the mistakes, even if the rest of the audience missed them. Our heros don’t hear these voices, and it’s all easy for them because they have “made it” and we haven’t. This time we are telling ourselves a story about mediocrity and failure, and of course making it come true.

Playing to Win

No matter how well we prepare, how unique and clever our music is, how many people enjoy our work and respect us, there is always that other musician, waiting to walk in calmly and blow us out of the water. We treat music as if it was a sport, with winners and, of course, LOSERS.

Rather than enjoying music, listening for new ideas, inspiration or even simply the joy of creation, we are always looking for the flaws in those performances. When we inevitably find one, the feeling is one of “ahh, see, even **** isn’t perfect.” No wonder we are so good at finding flaws with our own work.

I’m Not Worthy!

You might think this paragraph will be about insecurity. Oddly enough, it is about entitlement and ego. A lot of the self-criticism we practice is actually an elaborate ego trip where nothing is worthy of us. Good isn’t good enough; we have to transcend music itself with our brilliance. Thus we mercilessly slam everything we do as not up to the standards of our genius.

Think about it; if we really thought we were talentless losers, we would be proud of even the most average-sounding efforts. Would you harshly criticize a learning-disabled child? Do you attack someone who doesn’t speak your language as an idiot? Of course not. We are kind hearted to the less-fortunate and the less-talented. But not to our badass selves.

It’s OK to Suck

Sometimes we go to unusual lengths to quiet the voices; sometimes people medicate themselves with any number of anti-consciousness potions to allow them to think about the right things when they play. Likewise, there are lots of “letting go” approaches where we drop all semblance of selectivity in order to simply “flow.” Unfortunately, a lot of what flows out is not very good, since we have elected not to think at all instead of thinking the harmful thoughts.

This is not to put down freedom or flow, but if we simply force our mind to go blank, either naturally or artificially, the result is that nobody is at the helm, and we drift aimlessly. (pun intended)

Filling the Cup

Nature abhors a void; so we must fill it with something useful before it fills with the toxic garbage described above. Back to thinking the right things, which will by their nature crowd out and exclude the wrong things.

This might take a while, since these habits are probably long-established, and worse yet, comfortable.

1. Don’t focus on mistakes; when you practice, notice them and see them for what they are: information. Use this information to make your playing stronger. Getting mad or frustrated by mistakes gives them power. When you perform, think of the sound you are creating, not the mechanics of the instrument. At this point, no amount of micro-management will improve the performance.

2. Trying to think faster when the music is demanding or complex will lead to panic and agitation. Instead, slow down. Imagine each bar, beat and note as a world unto itself, and then enter that world. Imagine the music opening up and widening to allow you to explore. You control the passage of time.

3. Instead of trying to please the imaginary critics by playing it safe, instead take more risks. Deliberately shock and bewilder these picky and unimaginative listeners. Deliberately play something your hero wouldn’t play. Nobody really wants to hear you copy them anyway.

4. Rejoice in the work of others. Don’t try to “be “ them when you listen, as this will cause the inevitable comparison to begin. Let them communicate to you. Let the humor and joy of others entertain and enlighten.

5. Stop trying to be yourself as well; your uniqueness is unavoidable and automatic. Instead, be on a search for something out there that nobody has found, then rejoice with your listeners at this new discovery. Invite your listeners into your playing. Laugh at yourself when you make a mistake; nobody really minds them that much except you.

6. Explore different imagery in your mind as you play. Like anything else, some of these will work better than others. Find a way of imagining the situation that is fun and joyful. Experiment with visualizations that take you in the right direction.

7. Finally: It’s just music. Nobody lives or dies, nobody gets hurt; in the long run it’s just for fun. Don’t take yourself so seriously.