The myth of multi-tasking: Learning to stick with the cursor
I’d like to start this post by addressing the myth of multitasking. Let’s say you’re having a phone conversation with a friend while reading emails on your computer at the same time. The myth of multitasking leads us to believe that we can accomplish these two tasks simultaneously, thereby somehow saving time. But the reality is that instead of doing two things at once, you’re really dividing your attention rapidly between both tasks, doing neither of them very well. You won’t remember the emails you read, and your friend on the phone will definitely notice that you’re not totally present. The reality is that we can only do two things completely simultaneously if at least one task is so routine to us that we can complete it without conscious thought (i.e., walking while chewing gum).
The temptation to multi-task is strong for me. In some cases I welcome distractions, like the podcasts I listen to while driving, walking my dog, or doing other mundane tasks. But in other cases, the constant presence of distractions (phone, computer, etc.) diminishes my focus when I really need it.
The practice of mindfulness asks us to be completely present in the moment — to rivet ourselves to the now. The goal is to do one thing at a time: When you are walking, walk. When you are eating, eat (or even: when you are worrying, worry). Mindfulness resources often recommend practicing this skill by focusing on awareness while performing simple tasks like making coffee or tea. Complete each step of the task with conscious thought toward it (take out the bag of coffee, take out a mug, scoop the coffee into the coffee maker, etc.). When the desire to do something else, to go somewhere else mentally, or to multitask arises, notice it and bring yourself back to the present activity. Distractions can be acknowledged, but then must be let go.
We have never had as many potential distractions as we do today. And the act of ignoring them in order to do one thing at a time is actually counter-cultural. Our society gives us the opportunity (encourages us, really) to surround ourselves with every possible kind of media around the clock, every day. It’s really no wonder that so may of us are tired, stressed, and stretched in several directions. The concept of one-mindfulness, when practiced, can provide a break from this daily hamster wheel.
In the Practice Room
The discussion of one-mindfulness brings us to what I believe is the ultimate mindfulness exercise for the musician: that’s right, our old friend, sight-reading. The beauty of sight-reading is that it demands all of our attention be directed toward the music itself. That first reading of a new étude or piece is always an opportunity to practice one-mindfulness. Rather than viewing it as a dreaded task to be endured, we can use it as an excuse to set aside all of the other thoughts and emotions that regularly bounce around in our minds when we play.
There was once a time when students could reliably get away with the “I can’t afford to buy new music for sight-reading” excuse. But that time is long gone. We all have our laptops, tablets, or phones in our practice rooms with us, and we all have pretty reliable access to the internet. The advent of IMSLP and other music pdf websites gives us access to an enormous amount of music, which can be delivered to our screen in a maximum of fifteen seconds. Even if we’re not actively using it as a mindfulness practice, most of us are aware that we should be sight-reading every day.
I once gave a sight-reading example to a student in a lesson, and when he finished playing, I asked him what was going through his mind as he played. His answer was that he visualized a cursor moving across each measure as he played it, similar to the one that moves across the screen in music notation softwares as an example is playing. I found this to be an excellent visualization for sight-reading, and I have shamelessly used it ever since. In sight-reading we can’t afford to take time to consider a missed note in the past, or a potential missed note in the future. There is barely even time for observation. We have to stay with that cursor, which represents the present moment. There is only one rule in sight-reading: Don’t stop playing.
As soon as we’ve played a piece once, we are no longer in sight-reading mode. Our training kicks in, and we begin to observe, evaluate (maybe judge), and seek ways to improve. We start to take each section apart, piece by piece, and slowly put it back together. This is what I’d call practice mode, and it can certainly be done with one-mindfulness. But when we go out onstage to perform, we can’t still be in practice mode. In performance we need to activate that cursor and direct every ounce of focus to the present moment. Sight-reading as an exercise in one-mindfulness can help us prepare for the shift from practice to performance.
**For new sight-reading material at reasonable prices, I recommend the Clarinet Institute (https://www.clarinetinstitute.com). They have archives for each instrument, each containing hundreds of public domain musical examples. I purchased the trumpet, trombone, and tuba archives years ago, and I still haven’t run out of music!