muscle memory: a movement that you have repeated several times that your muscles remember how to do independent of your conscious effort. An example of a muscle memory would be riding a bike, you could go fifty years without riding one but still remember how when you tried again.
One muscle memory I am grateful for is playing the organ. The organ requires the hands and feet to play in unison. The feet play the bass note while the hands play all the notes. I practiced hymns on the organ in high school over and over and over so as to be able to accompany our church congregation. Even now, thirty years later, when I play those same hymns my legs and feet remember where to go from the repetition of those younger days. (And that is a very good thing, because every now and then I’ll be playing a hymn with people singing and my mind says, “How do you know how to do this? How do you your hands and feet know what to play next?” And when that terrible thought enters it causes a little glitch [the muscles like to be trusted you see], but then my hands and feet go right on to the next note and the one after that until my brain catches up and quits questioning them.
It’s a marvelous system of learning that muscle memory is. I’m so glad God thought of it.
It’s a marvelous system of learning that muscle memory is. I’m so glad God thought of it.
What's a muscle memory you're glad to have?
6 comments:
It amazing you can do that!!
I am glad that I have a memory at all! That may sound silly, but I really have a hard time remembering facts!
I don't crochet at all, but I can still wrap the yarn around my hands and get the hook going. All that practicing on Grandma's sofa got me... nowhere!
So true! My niece got a "cat's cradle" string for Christmas, and though I hadn't touched one since I was her age, my hands and fingers knew exactly where to go and what to do. But as soon as I started to overthink it, the string was a jumbled mess.
Typing. I can type with absolutely no thought at all, and I love that.
Sometimes I feel that way about the piano, as well. Or driving. I'll suddenly realize that I haven't been paying attention to what I'm doing at all, and wonder how I continued to do it? Disconcerting, but reassuring as well.
I also play the organ and sometimes when I'm playing while each appendage is 'doing their thing' I think....what the heck? How am I doing this. I started playing at age 13 when my father was in the bishopric and I had no choice in the matter. Luckilly I'm enjoyed it all these years.
Post a Comment