In this series we have approached the different ways of retaining knowledge. More or less, so far it involves hashing it out again and again with repetitions or reviews until the material sticks to your brain. Is there another way, though, to accumulate knowledge? This blog shall examine one of them, a powerful medicine, the kind that either cures you or kills you. I’m talking about panic.
I’ll give you a for instance, a shameful one because this has happened to me: I was about to present to an audience a piece I barely know. I have my skills as a musician, I have thousand of hours of practice under my belt, yet I have no idea what the song I’m about to embark on is about.
I should say, right off the bat, that refusing the job was not an option. The song would play with me as a part of it no matter what.
Here’s what this set of circumstances triggered. I first realized that I was about to step into unknown territory. I looked around to get some kind of support/help from my fellow musician. Let’s suppose I gathered one sympathetic look from the bass player. I still got that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. The panic started to pump in overdrive. My heart rate rose. I sweated and cursed. I listened intently to the first few bars who hit my ears and tried my best to decode something I could use. The sharks were circling. I had to play.
Of course, at that moment, all my senses are on high alert. More than my senses, my intuition is also fully present. More than my intuition, my whole experience kicks in to help. I was awake like never before. It felt very bad to be me at that moment. The information are piling up faster than what I can process, and yet I had to do something. And, lo and behold, in the end, I played. I put my craft in motion and I accompanied the song the best I could. Once I actually jumped into the swimming pool, the feeling was not as exacerbated, my nerves calmed down somewhat.
Well, would you believe that I just describe a script for accumulating knowledge? Not only will I remember how to play that tune for the rest of my life, I will remember the technique, the atmosphere, the artistic magnitude of it. Every detail is seared in my memory.
To be clear, I do not recommend this method of learning. It is brutal and very unpleasant. But I will admit that I’ve always been able to play something that was somewhat appropriate for the song. I was saved by my own panic.
To conclude, I will confess something strange: it wasn’t the song I learnt right then and there. That wasn’t the big lesson. The song was important however it was not what I’ve retained from those impossibly tense moments. What I will take to my grave is this: never panic, stay cool, be Batman. You’ll have a better chance to fall back on your feet. I then proceeded to apply that principle to all areas of my life.
