Early in my piano teaching career I had a studio full of mainly beginning piano students. I made a decision to perform at the conclusion of our twice yearly studio recitals. I did this for a few reasons:
1. I didn’t want to lose touch with what it took to learn and memorize a piece and perform it in front of a live audience.
2. I wanted to inspire my students and expose them to music and artistry beyond their current capabilities.
3. I enjoyed performing.
This one particular year I had been working on the Bach Sinfonia in D Major. I remember a college classmate learning it, and I had always liked it, so I decided to learn it. Memorizing it, however, was much more challenging than I expected.
I memorized and practiced performing it in front of sample audiences, and I noticed that my mind was worried about me forgetting how the next part would go no matter where I was in the music, even though I knew how the next part went. I shared this with my aikido dojo. Maybe they would have some ideas on how to handle it.
In my experience training in aikido, there is no place for racing thoughts unless you want to get physically hurt. Fortunately, in piano performance there’s no physical injury, just mental and emotional anguish. (I’m not sure that’s a consolation).
In addition, the mind is always a beat or two behind the present moment of whatever is happening. The key is to be in the moment blending with it, not a beat behind it analyzing what just happened, or daydreaming about what might happen in the future, or judging what happened and wishing it was different.
I wanted to enjoy performing this piece, and I knew there had to be a creative way to help my mind relax. My sensei offered a wonderful idea, one that I still use today:
Just say thank you to each thought as it comes. Don’t beat yourself up over it, or try and force the thoughts to stop. That will just add an extra layer that’s not about the present moment. And the present moment is the only place where you can do something useful anyway.
When I performed the piece, I must have said “thank you” at least one hundred times. It was not the most fun I’ve had playing, but saying “thank you” allowed me to let the thought pass and continue focusing on what I was doing. And I ended up playing really well.
Today, I allow even more preparation time, and that seems to prevent many of the thoughts in the first place. However, I still have the word “thank you” in my tool-box that I can pull out whenever I need it.
Try it sometime. I’d love to hear what you discover.