Saturday, August 20, 2016

Reflection on Cognitive Flow

It's safe to say that I have experienced cognitive flow before. Prior to recent, more targeted studies of what cognitive flow, I've always chalked this concept up to being "In the Zone"--but of course, I've never thought about the Hows or the Whys. Usually, I feel as thought it's just been a really great day or I'm in the right mood. Sometimes these factor dictates whether or not this flow can happen.

That has changed somewhat after taking a closer look at what cognitive flow actually means. Mihaly Csikszentmihaly shared several quotes from people attempting to quantify, in language at least, what this flow is to them--and he routinely cycles back to this idea of "ecstasy"--a sort of uncontrolled departure from reality wherein we achieve exactly our best in the throes of this kind of flow.  This is a state human beings can reach which is controlled, which is automatic, and not always flailing and spontaneous.

I've chosen to examine a time when cognitive flow happened to me by describing my experience as a piano player.

I have been an avid piano player for many years. Granted, when I was younger and slogging through Bach and scale exercises and always getting things technically wrong or playing them too fast, I found the challenges of playing the instrument frustrating and not really personally rewarding. But as I grew older, my knowledge and training of this instrument opened doors for me to begin playing many other instruments, always with frustrations and challenges, but now with a framework of fundamental skills that had been hammered into me and had begun manifesting themselves as something more like musical resonance.

Though I never developed my musical skills as much as I would have liked, being able to play and learn new pieces on my own has been a very rewarding pursuit of my adult life. All that complaining about practicing the same thing over and over when I was younger has now given me an outlet for personal achievement that I very highly value. I now refer to my piano as 'my therapist,' and the biggest challenge I face in playing piano now is simply having one at my disposal. (And understanding that at this point, I'm probably not going to just spontaneously churn out Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2)

So how does cognitive flow happen when I engage in this activity? As an example I'd like to describe how I learned to play my absolute favorite piece of piano, "Au Clair de Lune."

For one, it took a long time. I plodded through an intense key change, tried my best interpret a strange time signature, but mostly I relied on "my ear"--that is, I listened to the song being played hundreds of times, sometimes while reading the music and imagining what my hands had to do to successfully play whatever passage. Eventually, I got to a workable rendition of it, but it was still a difficult piece to memorize--to famously quote Amadeus, it had "too many notes."

But I began to notice this--I actually had the piece memorized, physically. I was worried about playing it consciously, and if I ever actually tried to consciously remember what exact notes came next, I'd lose track and the playing would break down. When I sat down to play it, and not think about it--these are the times when I realized that I knew what to do, and at times I could execute the more difficult passages of the piece without much trouble.

That may seem like a strange explanation, but I think it fits the realm of cognitive flow. As Benjamin Zander said in his TED talk I have examined earlier, an important breakthrough in learning relies on knowing where the "impulses" are. A beginner will create impulses for every single change in motion, key, or chord--to help themselves learn that motion. But, true mastery comes when you remove those impulses, or rather start looking at the bigger picture and prioritizing the impulses, operating on more sense, skill, and trust.

I have, for all intents and purposes, learned how to play "Au Clair de Lune." But, some days if I'm tired or worried or don't have a good level of focus, I won't play it to my liking. Others, when I'm more relaxed and able to ease into the practice, I can play a piece of music that is instantly gratifying -- as Csikszentmihaly said-- I get that "feedback" immediately and it is wonderfully soothing--I could play it several times in a row and not be bothered one bit.

It's those days that I think true flow is actually reached, calling to mind this visual presented by Csikszentmihaly:

Source: Mihaly Csikszentimihalyi On Flow

The act of practicing piano in itself requires the right amount of challenge and skill, for me--but it's when I have relaxation, control, and arousal that I find myself producing the most interesting music. While this remains a largely solitary exercise, I find it interesting the links between music, education and learning--at the moment, my PLN doesn't have many resources in this area, but it's definitely something I would wish to explore in the future.


Sources:

1. Flow, the Secret to Happiness [Video File] Retrieved from http://www.ted.com/talks
2. Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi: Motivating People to Learn [2002, Feb] Retrieved from http://www.edutopia.org
3. The Transformative Power of Classical Music [Video File] Retrieved from http://www.ted.com/talks


No comments:

Post a Comment