Performing is Different

It is. Live performing brings out adrenaline. Because, even though you may know the act, you never know the performance. The act is what's planned. For the artist: it is the set list; for the athlete it is the practiced shots or culmination of workouts; for the skilled test taker it is the note taking and endless hours of study.

Performing keeps us alive, though. Because for all that we can control, for all of our work ethic and practice, we can't control the questions asked, the conditions of the course or the audience and stage we'll be performing at.

How cool is it to not know?

The key to being our best (and at the same time, the very counter intuitive part) is focus. It is easy to get swept up in the perceived pressure of performing. If you're a runner who races, you can't help but notice the hundreds if not thousands of other competitors. Not to mention, all the tents, the race clock, the line for the porta potty, the pre-race and post-race chatter, etc. etc. How do you stick to your act? How do you not go out too fast? Your practiced miles and trials?

Focus.

And focus on you.

And focus on the act that you have practiced.

The winner of the race, just like the doctor, just like the Broadway actress, just like the polished comedian was made a long time ago. On muddy trails. In libraries. In evening acting classes and endless summer camps. In dirty clubs with little to no sound systems and even smaller audiences.

I look at performing as a result of a culmination of work. The one who can focus back on the work the best is the one who performs the best. But sometimes we get caught up in the moment. The crowd is too much, the environment is difficult, the pressure is overwhelming.

But take away the competitive aspect. Better yet, take away all the shit you cannot control.

In the end, you're only competing against yourself. Screw others and the circumstances. The coolest thing about performing is discovering self. It's amazing, and it will trump winning a god-damn trophy any day. And when self-discovery is your big picture, you're mind automatically focuses on self and doesn't get caught up in all the hoopla of the performance. It's a bit weird, but true. When you change your end goal to self, embrace the moment for what it is, indirectly, you will become a better competitor. You'll rise above your competition without trying. Why? Because your competition is so focused on what you and the rest are doing. They get sidetracked by the same crap you wanted to but were too disciplined to fall for.

I once knew a coach who looked at a cross country team who won a major cross country meet. After the meet, he took the trophy the team won, and in front of them, threw the trophy in a river. The team beat all the other teams, but they won based on talent, not on performance. They're performance was lack-luster and if thrown into a different arena, maybe the other teams would have kicked their ass. That didn't matter -- the level of competition. It was good enough compared to the others in the same field, but not to the standard they had set for themselves.

This isn't to knock the idea of competition. It's healthy and necessary. However, competition should mostly be saved for the practice range. It's healthy for game-planning, strategy, research.

It is only when performing that one can get in "the zone." The Zone is the zone of one's self, not of me and another performer. So my thoughts: find something you enjoy and start to schedule performances. Feel the adrenaline, the nerves, and the fear that underlies it. Work your butt off to get better when you perform. But always perform. And never worry about your rank. That's all crap anyway. Let self-satisfaction and decency be your guide.

U2 Where The Streets Have No Name: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GpVbLm4TN3g