Why I used to hate performing and what *Science* tells me I can do

Nov 15

Nov 15 Why I used to hate performing and what Science tells me I can do

Note: I found this nearly complete draft as I was about to start on a brand new piece, so I’m wrapping this up and posting it. New post to come soon!

Yeah, that’s a bit of a clickbait-y title, but really, it also covers what I want to talk about.

This year, I’ve been on a mission to better understand the particular quirks of how my brain works, so that I can set my life up in a way where there’s fewer potholes (okay, I say potholes, but I really mean sinkholes) that derail my focus on my short-term and long-term goals.

I was listening to a podcast episode recently: “You 2.0: Overcoming Stage Fright” from Hidden Brain by Shankar Vedantam and it felt so meaningful for me that I had to share.

Now, I’ve talked openly on my own podcast (co-hosted with Kiran Rajagopalan) about how, for years, I dreaded performances. This episode perfectly explained my own experiences with dance, as well as what I’ve seen in the dance class. So… long story short - here’s the problem: (and I’m going off of memory, so hopefully I got this mostly right)

When you’re learning to do something, it’s using your working memory, and it’s hyper-focused thinking through every single part of the mechanics of execution.
This is something I’ve often explained to our students, in less neuroscience-y terms. Basically, when we’re first learning something, we have to be hyper-aware of what each aspect of our body is doing, from the footwork and hands to the body bendings, eye movements, etc. etc. etc.
Once you’ve learned it well, it gets moved to procedural memory so you’re not thinking step 1, step 2, step 3, etc. You’re just executing in a flow state.
What my teachers have told me is, this is when we must start to “feel and do” when we’re dancing. After our bodies learn what to do, instead of thinking about our anga shuddhi or the specific eye movements, we should just be enjoying the song and doing the expressions. I think put another way, we’re shifting focus from the physical execution of the dance to the emotional execution of the dance that overlays the physical movements.
When you become nervous / “choke” at high-stakes milestones (performances, competitions, exams), essentially, instead of relying on your procedural memory, you revert back to the working memory and hyper analyzing everything AND the stress means that your brain isn’t communicating as well, so your outcomes are worse. Essentially, you’re approaching it like a beginner who’s frazzled.
This is a feeling I know so, so, so, so, so well, it’s not even funny. “Mind blank ayipoyindi” has been something that’s happened in just about every performance, for years and years and years, despite how much practice I’d put in, despite how well I know some of these pieces. It was so helpful to understand what’s happening under the hood, finally.
If you’re anxious / dreading something, your brain processes that anxiety in the same way as pain (e.g., getting a shot) so that makes you feel worse, and therefore perform worse.

Okay - not going from memory for this section - I actually replayed the episode to take notes for this part of the episode. From a solution perspective, Dr. Sian Beilock, a cognitive scientist, offered up these solutions:

Practice executing in the tense situation
Dang it, my mom was right. To stop fearing performing, perform more. And… it’s panned out. Since the pandemic, I’ve said yes to performing opportunities first and then pushed through before I could change my mind, even at times when I felt unqualified. I’m a better dancer now than I was two years ago. I’m a better performer now than I was two years ago. There’s still more to go, for sure, but this has unequivocally been true in my case.
Give different meaning to the physiological responses like heart racing and sweaty palms (excited, not nervous)
Apparently it’s the same symptoms whether you’re worried or excited, so it’s a byproduct your body is prepping you for success, not a sign that you’re going to fail. I’m going to have to start paying attention to this one - this was new for me.
Focus on why you should succeed
I apparently started doing this without realizing it. The internal script I had for many years was “there are people who’ve had such better practice / skill / experience, so I can’t possibly be good at this, and I just hope I don’t suck.” However, when I told myself I’d say yes to opportunities and put my best foot forward, that meant I was making commitments to perform, and then showing up even though I was working long hours in my day job, and just not being able to show up in the practice studio as much as I wanted to for some programs. However, I performed anyway, and I was surprised to hear feedback that the performances came out well - even at times where I was here, last minute, sandwiched between performances by full-time dancers. That changed my internal script - “It’s not just the x hours I put in for this particular program, it’s the years of training I’ve put into dance. Also, if I can do this well with only a handful of rehearsals, I am a good dancer. My issue is time spent on dance, not lack of talent.” And - that changed a lot for me. I approached my rehearsals and performances with enthusiasm, not fear of failure. And I reprioritized my life. Last month, I left the job I had for two years and took a position that should be less stress because I recognized that if I stayed at that company, I wouldn’t be able to
It’s been a long two years at my day job. I have since left that day job because I cared too much about that work and needed to disengage with work or give up dance. But I digress.
Give working memory something else to focus on that’s unimportant (counting backwards, singing a song, focusing on key point / takehome / whatever, focusing on breathe)
This is the complete antithesis of everything I’ve known, the idea of distracting myself - at least in the dance space. But on the other hand, I recall doodling, playing mobile games, goofing off (and honing the darker edges of my humor) ahead of my AP exams in high school and critical presentations in the years since. I guess I’ll need to see how to apply this to dance.