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*This post is part of my “Mindfulness, Mindset, & Imagination” series. See the end of this blog post for more information about registering for a music workshop where we’ll expand on these themes! How a Tea Ceremony Made Me a Better Pianist: |
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Applying mindfulness to practicing (or in lessons with your teacher) and being present in the moment, means placing attention on what you’re doing, what you’re trying to figure out or accomplish, and not judging yourself about how things are going. You know you’re being mindful when you practice with a focused goal instead of just going through the motions while your mind wanders. (e.g. playing scales quickly without listening to yourself so you can get on to playing your fun piece).
Attention to the moment: “I’m practicing my scales as a warm up for my fingers”
Attention to what you’re doing (setting an Intention): “I’m going to play these scales with a relaxed wrist and add musicality as I crescendo up and decrescendo down.”
Non-judgement: “I played the scales but my wrist wasn’t relaxed.” *With judgement: “I played the scales and my wrist wasn’t relaxed. My arms don’t know how to loosen up. I’m terrible at playing scales!?”
So what’s the best way to practice? = it’s paying attention to what you’re doing.
Just like tip #1, enjoying and engaging in each step of the process of developing piano skills will serve you better than trying to quickly check off all the items in your practice log in one sitting!
Attention to the moment: “I’m practicing my scales as a warm up for my fingers”
Attention to what you’re doing (setting an Intention): “I’m going to play these scales with a relaxed wrist and add musicality as I crescendo up and decrescendo down.”
Non-judgement: “I played the scales but my wrist wasn’t relaxed.” *With judgement: “I played the scales and my wrist wasn’t relaxed. My arms don’t know how to loosen up. I’m terrible at playing scales!?”
So what’s the best way to practice? = it’s paying attention to what you’re doing.
Just like tip #1, enjoying and engaging in each step of the process of developing piano skills will serve you better than trying to quickly check off all the items in your practice log in one sitting!
- Overthinking doesn’t help. Notice “what is” in a present moment and allow yourself to be absorbed in the experience.
I mentioned my overthinking causes “over-analysis-paralysis,” in my first post, and I’m continually taking steps to curb it. So for me, making tea was a breakthrough moment.
In my story, I was aware of how I felt: uncomfortable, a little bit nervous, and the “pit” in my stomach kept growing. I observed my own thoughts and how my mind was racing in the moment: “What if I don’t do it right!” “I wasn’t paying attention to him enough?!”. I felt the silence and uneasiness around the room. So before I allowed my overthinking to get worse, I did something about it. (and ultimately surprised myself!) I accepted how I felt, but set the intention to be curious and step outside of my comfort zone.
After my tea ceremony experience, I'm more conscious that action helps me move through my thought clutter. I'm a better pianist now that I know acting more and thinking less serves me better. I felt really unprepared for the task as soon as I stood up. I got through the "performance" of the ceremony, all the while being present with each next step. Taking a breath helped me refocus. I showed a certain level of courage by stepping up when asked, unprepared. I can take with me the visceral feelings of that evening and apply them to my next performance. If I felt mindly confident because of acting in spite of my overacting mind, I can certainly develop greater confidence and competency after practicing with mindful preparation.
Feeling self-conscious, carrying self-doubt, and mindless chatter keep you “inside your head.” To counteract overthinking, it may require action. Other times it means you don’t take your thoughts personally, and quietly realize your mind tends to go into overdrive when under stress (and that’s a normal reaction). Mindfulness is a reminder to attend to the feelings, sights, and sounds, in the moment, and again, to do so without judgement.
It’s important to note I’ve only touched the surface of exploring mindfulness in all of its history, religious traditions, and symbolism. As mindfulness continues to be promoted in the United States to boost productivity, stress reduction, and is focused more on the science benefits, those formally trained in the practice can provide much deeper insights than what I’ve written here. With this small introduction to mindfulness, I hope you’ll have a fresh perspective with each lesson, new concept, and your next session at the piano. Using Attention, Intention, and having a Attitude of curiosity (open to whatever happens) will definitely transform your piano playing for the better.
What’s one point you can relate to and use the next time you’re at the piano? Back to my first question: do you think playing piano requires a certain level of mental effort alongside the physical?
Do you agree taking action before thinking too much is a good solution?
Leave a comment below or send me a message about this post. I’m interested to hear your thoughts!
What’s one point you can relate to and use the next time you’re at the piano? Back to my first question: do you think playing piano requires a certain level of mental effort alongside the physical?
Do you agree taking action before thinking too much is a good solution?
Leave a comment below or send me a message about this post. I’m interested to hear your thoughts!
If you want more perspectives on mindfulness for musicians and being mindful in daily life, here are more Resources & additional Reading:
A guest blog post from Pianodao.com expanding on the Mindfulness themes: “Is Mindfulness Relevant to Piano Playing?” by Doug Hanvey.
A Way to Amplify (or Weaken) the Effect of Self-Talk on Performance by Noa Kageyama, PhD. of the Bulletproofmusician.
The Art of Practicing: A Guide to Making Music from the Heart by Madeline Bruser
Getting Started with Mindfulness from Mindful.org
What is Mindfulness? Definition and Benefits (with Psychology)
Classic Zen Story told during the Tea Ceremony: The Samurai and the Tea Master Story
Mindfulness Certification Training offered by iNLP Center
This post is part of a series related to an upcoming Masterclass/Workshop for high school pianists, in collaboration with Lily Music Studio. I’ll be talking about issues many musicians face, like performance anxiety, ways to practice better, and will offer feedback to 4 performers on their pieces. With open discussion, a unique composition activity, and featured local food, this experience aims to be more interactive than the traditional masterclass, allowing for all attendees to participate.
If this sounds exciting to you, register here & join us on June 10th, 2019!
If this sounds exciting to you, register here & join us on June 10th, 2019!
*This short story relates to my original post about Mindfulness in piano playing.
Last month, I attended a traditional Chinese Tea ceremony at the local House of Leaf & Bean organic cafe. The presenter told us he learned the ceremony from his Chinese and Asian colleagues while teaching English in Japan. Sitting among the other attendees and after tasting three cups of black tea he carefully prepared, he said, “Would anyone like to try making this tea?”
He looked around at all of us and patiently waited. Then came the lingering awkward silence. One woman blurted out nervously, “Oh! I’d probably spill it all over the place! I couldn’t do the movements as gracefully as you?!”
He responded with, “Part of the experience of the ceremony is participating, not just observing…” The space of silence continued.
By now, a small knot was forming in my stomach, and his eyes were scanning the faces around him once more, silently signaling someone to take him up on his suggestion. Before I could let the sensation (and silence) grow any larger, I raised my hand and said “I’ll try it!” He thanked me and said, “We’ll switch seats, and you can begin” I got up from my chair and walked behind the small table-I knew I didn’t watch every gesture he made up until that point, but I knew there was no going back. There’d obviously be lots of pouring between containers in silence...
Once seated, all eyes were on me. I playfully said to myself, “I’ll do my best?!” I tentatively grabbed the gaiwan bowl of leaves and then put it down, realizing I had to put water in it. I took the container of hot water and poured it into the bowl of tea leaves, remembering he said something about “enough water to cover the leaves.” (this wasn’t the ‘put the tea bag in water’ like I was used to!). Then I let the leaves sit and the next step escaped me. Not sure what to do next, the teacher said “then you drain the water out,” I awkwardly picked up the gaiwan and saucer with one hand, trying to tilt the lid; it was tricky trying to pick it up while also tilting the lid with one hand. The teacher said, “tilt the lid, and put your thumb on top and your middle finger on the bottom..” I felt myself getting flustered, so I took a deep breath and followed his instructions. I began to feel more comfortable with the gaiwan’s special shape, lifted it, and quickly poured it in the glass with the strainer. Realizing I just performed the first infusion, all that was left was doing it two more times to make enough for everyone. As I repeated the steps, the teacher commented, “Wouldn’t you say it took him some courage to come up and try it?” “It’s like playing a Sonata, isn’t it, John? You’re not going to get all the right notes the first time…!” I smiled and thought it funny he kept referencing music while I felt like a beginner just learning to play all over again.
After 3 pours, I took away the strainer, more mindful of the gestures the teacher used. With cups in front of each person, I carefully poured each some tea...focused on pouring into the cups and not spilling any! Then, the moment of truth-I gestured with my hand for everyone to try. Silently I watched everyone lift the cups to their mouths and take a sip…
The woman in front of me said “This is a good cup!” Then I saw nods and smiles on everyone else’s faces. “Yes!” my mind cheered. I smiled to myself, felt a warm sensation of “I did it!”
The teacher smiled and said “Very good! Would you like to try it again?” Immediately I said, “No, I’m good!” and I quickly got up and went back to my seat.
While this story may seem trivial- “Why would someone be scared of making tea?!” I demonstrated to myself a bit of mindfulness and wanted to overcome my overthinking mind.
I noticed my usual habit of spiraling thoughts like, “what if I do it 'wrong,' ?" "what will they think as I'm doing this," “I wasn’t paying attention enough to know exactly how he did it” and went for the experience anyway. I chose curiosity over fear. I was paying attention to what I was doing and how I was feeling. I was open to learning and present in the momentary (nerve wracking) experience of making tea.
Classic Zen Story told during the Tea Ceremony: The Samurai and the Tea Master Story
He looked around at all of us and patiently waited. Then came the lingering awkward silence. One woman blurted out nervously, “Oh! I’d probably spill it all over the place! I couldn’t do the movements as gracefully as you?!”
He responded with, “Part of the experience of the ceremony is participating, not just observing…” The space of silence continued.
By now, a small knot was forming in my stomach, and his eyes were scanning the faces around him once more, silently signaling someone to take him up on his suggestion. Before I could let the sensation (and silence) grow any larger, I raised my hand and said “I’ll try it!” He thanked me and said, “We’ll switch seats, and you can begin” I got up from my chair and walked behind the small table-I knew I didn’t watch every gesture he made up until that point, but I knew there was no going back. There’d obviously be lots of pouring between containers in silence...
Once seated, all eyes were on me. I playfully said to myself, “I’ll do my best?!” I tentatively grabbed the gaiwan bowl of leaves and then put it down, realizing I had to put water in it. I took the container of hot water and poured it into the bowl of tea leaves, remembering he said something about “enough water to cover the leaves.” (this wasn’t the ‘put the tea bag in water’ like I was used to!). Then I let the leaves sit and the next step escaped me. Not sure what to do next, the teacher said “then you drain the water out,” I awkwardly picked up the gaiwan and saucer with one hand, trying to tilt the lid; it was tricky trying to pick it up while also tilting the lid with one hand. The teacher said, “tilt the lid, and put your thumb on top and your middle finger on the bottom..” I felt myself getting flustered, so I took a deep breath and followed his instructions. I began to feel more comfortable with the gaiwan’s special shape, lifted it, and quickly poured it in the glass with the strainer. Realizing I just performed the first infusion, all that was left was doing it two more times to make enough for everyone. As I repeated the steps, the teacher commented, “Wouldn’t you say it took him some courage to come up and try it?” “It’s like playing a Sonata, isn’t it, John? You’re not going to get all the right notes the first time…!” I smiled and thought it funny he kept referencing music while I felt like a beginner just learning to play all over again.
After 3 pours, I took away the strainer, more mindful of the gestures the teacher used. With cups in front of each person, I carefully poured each some tea...focused on pouring into the cups and not spilling any! Then, the moment of truth-I gestured with my hand for everyone to try. Silently I watched everyone lift the cups to their mouths and take a sip…
The woman in front of me said “This is a good cup!” Then I saw nods and smiles on everyone else’s faces. “Yes!” my mind cheered. I smiled to myself, felt a warm sensation of “I did it!”
The teacher smiled and said “Very good! Would you like to try it again?” Immediately I said, “No, I’m good!” and I quickly got up and went back to my seat.
While this story may seem trivial- “Why would someone be scared of making tea?!” I demonstrated to myself a bit of mindfulness and wanted to overcome my overthinking mind.
I noticed my usual habit of spiraling thoughts like, “what if I do it 'wrong,' ?" "what will they think as I'm doing this," “I wasn’t paying attention enough to know exactly how he did it” and went for the experience anyway. I chose curiosity over fear. I was paying attention to what I was doing and how I was feeling. I was open to learning and present in the momentary (nerve wracking) experience of making tea.
Classic Zen Story told during the Tea Ceremony: The Samurai and the Tea Master Story
