When Self-Criticism Interferes with Your Potential

Inner Game Basics

Timothy Gallwey came up with the idea of the inner game as it applies to tennis in the early 1970s. Then in the 1980s he teamed up with Barry Green, former principal bassist of the Cincinnati Symphony, to write The Inner Game of Music.

There are two games: the inner game and the outer game. The outer game is everything you see—the reality, for example, of doing a concert: the notes, the words, the size of the score, the lighting, the acoustics, proximity to the conductor, etc.

The inner game is the inner dialog: “Oh my god, I never really learned how to pronounce those words.” “The conductor is going to know that it is I who is late on that entrance.” And so on.

Most of us try to improve our performance by studying harder, taking lessons, whatever we have to do, and all of those things are important. In addition to improving the potential, the inner game deals with the importance of lessening the interference.

The inner game is a system of learning through observation and diminishing self-criticism. I am one of those people who says to themselves, “You idiot, why can’t you get this!” A lot of people do this too and to the best of my knowledge, it doesn’t do any of us any good.

What Causes Interference?

The Inner Game of Music talks about Self 1 and Self 2. Self 2 expresses our potential. Self 1 interferes with our potential. Self 1 is the shoulds and the shouldn’ts. If something goes wrong in a performance, how long do you focus on that before you get back on track?

Suppose it’s the Bach B-Minor Mass. You miss some notes. But how many notes are there in the B-Minor Mass? The point is that this kind of self-criticism affects us for measures, if not entire movements. It interferes with our potential and our performance.

Dealing with Interference

The inner game is about awareness, will, and trust.

1) Awareness is about simply noticing without filtering our perceptions through our ideas of right and wrong, good and bad. When judgments get in the way, we look for what went wrong and then we “try” too hard to make it right.

2) Will has to do with the direction or intensity of our intention. Will sets the goal and moves toward it—making adjustments through trial and error to bring us closer and closer to the goal.

3) Trust goes hand-in-hand with awareness and will. It takes trust to allow simple awareness to happen, without immediately jumping in with self-criticism. It takes trust to allow the will’s trial and error approach. It takes trust to tap into our inner resources so that we can perform our best.

Awareness: Comprised of Sound, Sight, and Feeling

Let’s focus on awareness. For singers, there are three main things we can become aware of: sound, sight, and feeling. Here’s an exercise to illustrate. Look at the musical passage below. Now tap on your leg: right, left, right, left in rhythm. Do this for a while. How did you do?

Now do the tapping again but this time, read this paragraph as you are tapping.

Now try to keep the rhythm constant. You must keep your arms stiff and alternate between the hands evenly so the left hand doesn’t sound softer or louder than the right. Don’t be nervous, even though I doubt you can do this as accurately as I have described. Really try. Grit your teeth, hold your breath, and hammer away as hard as you can. As you are drumming away, read this next paragraph (unless Self 1 is already dictating in your ear):

Don’t get faster. Keep the rhythm exact and even. Uh-oh, do you notice one hand getting louder than the other? Fix it. Get it even. Don’t get tired. This is pretty difficult! Just try harder to get it even…

So how did that work for you? Not very well, I’m guessing. The alternative to “trying” in the inner game is to learn by observation. For example, tapping on your legs and simply noticing the rhythm—which beat is stronger? Perhaps speeding it up and noticing what it sounds like. By listening, you are able to strengthen your concentration.

Sight

Sight is another way that singers can become aware. Years ago I sang the aria “The People Who Walked in Darkness” from the Messiah. I got up, and for some reason, I was so nervous that I thought I would fall off the stage. It was an aria I had sung frequently, so I had no idea why this was happening. Luckily, I had a score in front of me. So I focused on the notes on the page, which helped me redirect my attention back on what I was doing and stop the negative inner dialog was that was causing the nervousness.

Here is an exercise about sight from Green and Gallwey’s book. Give yourself a starting note and sing the passage on ta, ta:

How did you do? Now repeat the same passage. This time don’t concentrate on single notes, but follow the direction of the arrows, and focus on the patterns that each group of four notes creates.

How did you do this time? Was it easier? What about that last group of four notes? Did you add a C to the end? It is interesting how much we miss and how much we don’t see. That’s one reason why we use methods like Solfège or the 1, 2, ti, 4, because when we have to name the notes, our powers of concentration and perception are heightened. You can’t fake it.

Feeling

Another thing singers can focus on to increase their concentration is feeling. Here’s another exercise. Sing the song below, focusing only on the pitches, rhythm and printed markings. Ignore the “meaning” of the piece.

Now sing it again, this time thinking of someone to whom you would like to sing a lullaby—a child, a grandchild, someone you love, a partner, a favorite pet. To whom would you like to sing sweetly to take away their pain or fear?

What differences did you notice? Sometimes the feeling of what we are doing can really help us. When we are singing a big choral work like the Rachmaninoff Vespers, for example, we can focus on the feeling of that magnificent Call to Worship in the beginning. In addition to all the words and notes and the tuning, what does it feel like physically to be singing those beautiful chords?

This is something of a paradox: to convey the feeling, but not get so caught up in the feeling that we can’t sing. If you have ever sung at a memorial service, you know the challenge. One trick is to choose something on which to concentrate—maybe not the feeling of the occasion, but the feeling of the song. Or maybe you concentrate on the sight of the piece or the sound of it.

Green and Gallwey suggest that each time you play the inner game, you will increase your skills a little more. A balance of awareness, will, and trust will eventually lead you to a state of relaxed concentration that will improve your outer performance.

Resources

The Inner Game of Music by Barry Green with Timothy Gallwey

“Singing and the Inner Game of Tennis” by Greg Barker on vocalcouncil.com