All in Mindfulness
It occurs to me that rather than trying to normalize the performance experience, we could try to live more fully -- to actually experience more of our lives -- everyday. I think we often flatten out our experience so that it appears to align more closely with our preferences and expectations. But what if we actually sought out and learned to be okay with more texture, more nuance, more drama? Might the performance experience seem less fraught?
In this post, I'd like to introduce you to one of my favourite metaphors for unhelpful reactivity -- the second arrow. The concept of the second arrow comes from a Buddhist parable, the gist of which is this: If you got shot with an arrow, it would be bad. It would hurt a lot and could be life-threatening. There are certain actions you would likely want to take immediately such as get the arrow out, stop the bleeding, go to the hospital, etc.
What would NOT be helpful would be to get, say, angry -- either with the person who shot you or with yourself for being stupid enough to get shot. If you did get angry, you would be in physical pain (and possibly mortal danger) AND, on top of that, you would be...well, angry, which generally doesn't feel good. So, not only would your discomfort have increased (pain of arrow + pain of being angry), but your anger would likely to distract you from taking the actions that would be most helpful.
In effect, it would be like shooting yourself with a second arrow.
Developing a mindfulness practice is kind of like learning to see the water we’re swimming in. Even more than that, it involves the discipline of assuming there is almost always more going on than we can see from deep inside our habitual mental and perceptual grooves. But I’m not going to lie: It ain’t always pretty. To those embarking on a mindfulness journey in the hopes that stress and anxiety will magically melt away I say: buyer beware! Seeing what your mind is full of can be a bit sobering at first. But it’s interesting what happens when just you keep looking. Instead of being tangled in reactivity, we begin to see: Oh, this is frustration…or anger, or worry, or judgment… Seeing that we are having a reaction — and not simply reacting, out of habit — gives us an opportunity to choose a response that is in line with our values and goals.
Self-compassion is a way of relating to ourselves with kindness. It is different from self-esteem in that it doesn't require us to be (or to be perceived as) special in comparison to others and it is not dependent on our success. Self-compassion recognizes our basic value without reference to how we do or do not "stack up" next to others and irrespective of success or failure.
The number one reason we gravitate towards self-criticism instead of self-compassion is that we believe we need self-criticism in order to motivate ourselves. Does this sound familiar to anyone??? BUT, Neff's research has demonstrated that in fact the opposite is true, that self-criticism actually undermines our motivation because it stimulates our stress physiology.
Last week, I promised to write about learning to quiet the thinking mind so that what I'll call the "body-mind" can do its thing. Some people seem to find this very easy and intuitive. I am not one of those people. As a dyed-in-the-wool control...enthusiast ("freak" seems a little harsh...) this is something I have wrestled with for a long time...and continue to wrestle with, if I'm being honest.
In my very first post, How I Got Hooked on Mindfulness, I talked a little bit about a weird paradox that I encountered when I started practicing yoga and meditation. In both of these practices we are taught to focus on the quality of attention and presence we bring to each moment and not so much on the results of our efforts. This is called non-attachment and at first I thought it was for suckers. Focusing on process rather than product seemed to me to be, at best, inefficient and, at worst, a surefire way to encourage mediocrity.
Recently, I have been doing a lot of research related to topics I'd like to explore in the coming weeks and months. Here's a glimpse of some of what I have been looking at:
Since there isn't (yet) much research specifically pertaining to mindfulness for musicians, I have been reading a lot of studies about the unique physical and psychological challenges faced by musicians and a lot of studies about the possible impact of mindfulness on these physical and psychological symptoms. I have also been trying to get a better handle on the current state of mindfulness research, particularly research related to the possible neural mechanisms of mindfulness. To that end, one of my projects has been slogging my way through this bad boy:
But then! I listened to this wonderful conversation between performance psychologist Michael Gervais (he's the guy who works with the Seattle Seahawks) and violinist/entrepreneur Kai Kight.
Mind = blown.
This practice is inspired by and adapted from "Take in the Good" in Rick Hanson's book Just One Thing and it is all about the deliberate cultivation of positive states of mind. I have posted a bare bones version without the backstory over on the Practice page. But the backstory is kind of interesting, so if you're up for it, read on...
We've covered taxidermy...and now broccoli!
In secular contexts (e.g. education, mental health, etc.) mindfulness is often described as having two primary benefits. One is increased self-regulation -- essentially the ability to respond thoughtfully rather than react -- and the other is the stabilization of attention. So far, we have talked a lot about the former but not much about the latter. And knowing how to pay is kind of important for musicians, wouldn't you say?
To make up for last week's slightly incoherent post, and to give myself a bit of extra time to work on some more research-intensive posts, I'm going to (try to) keep this one short and sweet.
We haven't really talked much about judgment except to say that the practice of mindfulness involves paying attention to experience in non-judgmental way. My sense is that non-judgment is right up there with acceptance as a concept that is counter-intuitive for musicians and other excellence-minded folk. Judgment seems kind of integral to the whole process of getting better, doesn't it? We play it, we judge it, we play it again -- isn't that pretty much what practicing is?
One of the big goals of mindfulness practice is to learn to accept what is -- whether it's good, bad, or indifferent. (Another goal is to stop categorizing experience as good, bad, or indifferent...but we'll save that for another post...) But the whole idea of acceptance -- particularly the acceptance of mistakes, practice ruts, or poor performances -- can be a tough sell among classical musicians. After all, we attain mastery by refusing to accept anything but the very best, right? Well, that depends on how we define acceptance.
