IN last week’s piece, I waxed lyrical about the life of a wayfaring troubadour and how music-making is not just an industrial, but also a spiritual, pursuit.

I highlighted “the zone”, the condition (or more precisely, the state of being) most musicians share with one another after finishing a good set, and something we keep to ourselves because it’s kind of hard to explain to those who haven’t had the experience. In this round, I’d like to demystify this “state of being” and show that our pursuit of it is more ordinary than it seems.

An article published by The Washington Post just over a year ago traces several academic works exploring the said state:

“In the 1960s, psychologist Abraham Maslow became the first academic to write about what he called ‘peak experiences’, or moments of elation that come from pushing ourselves in challenging tasks. Psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi called it ‘flow’, and his extensive studies, beginning in the late 1960s, eventually drew interest from researchers around the world.

“Experts have since amassed a wealth of data on and insights into flow, also known as ‘being in the zone’: what it is, how it works and why it matters. The research has created a road map for all the runners – and artistes, chess players, rock climbers, etc – who seek the exhilaration felt when one is completely absorbed in the pursuit of something difficult. And that road map points to one direction: the best way to reach flow is to forget you’re trying to get there.”

While I may have specifically referred to it as something only musicians experience, being in the zone is an inherently human experience that can be found beyond the creative and performing arts. This state may also explain why people find meaning in participating in marathons or extreme sports, or even cooking – activities that, in my view (correct me if I’m wrong), have become hip to the point that everyone now does it. You can even sign up for membership to gain entry into “the zone” (aka gyms).

What this state of being has me pondering is, does being in the zone need to be preceded by activities of anticipation before one can reach the prized point of exhilaration?

A key aspect of “the zone” is the dissolution of time and space. Being absorbed in whatever pursuit is important for all human beings, and to me, the interest in understanding the said state is rooted in us coming to terms with the conditions of modernity, which we ourselves as a civilisation created, and which drives us nuts and enriches us in equal measure.

While modernity – with the prevalence of jobs, labour and mechanised repetition – arguably atomises and alienates individuals from one another (this takes a thesis to unpack, so I won’t delve further), the loss of private time and space to pursue and indulge in a challenging physical task has become even more evident as consumerist culture and technological fetishism supplant our need to actually exert our physicality. Being physically active (be it rocking out onstage or rock climbing) and the “high” that comes with it reminds us that we are biological creatures whose sense of well-being is also determined by chemical reactions.

Modernity, with its obsession with all things rational (an important thing, but in moderate doses), has brought about anxieties over the “why” and “how” to “get there”, before we even try. I’m glad that we have embraced physical activities again, but technology has also enabled us to just imagine activity.

Take for example the concept of immersion. Immersion is a key component of any form of mediated art or activity. Think a darkened cinema with a huge screen and 360° sound system. This wasn’t enough for us, so we created the simple 3D glasses, which later got pimped up into big goggles, and prior to that, the advent of IMAX… and then, someone’s phone rings or the couple next to you start explaining the plot to each other loudly. We get angry because our immersive experience is ruined, and we paid good money to be “lost” in the movie.

We also desire to be in these narrative worlds. Think video games, which started with the now-primitive Pong, and look at how much they’ve progressed. Now, players can determine their character’s look, the plot and outcomes, and even share the immersive experience with fellow gamers in different parts of the world.

In prayer, in grief, in joy, in sadness, the human experience is one of immersion, and we seek it like a duck seeks water.

Let’s not forget that all human beings, regardless of age, gender, class or creed, deserve a ticket to “the zone”. One duty of the arts, being among the sites of immersion, is to demystify it, so that others, too, can have access and reap the reward of reclaiming our lives from consumerist nonsense and modernity’s ambivalences.

This is why the arts matter. Amin. – May 8, 2020.

* Azmyl Yunor is a touring underground recording artiste, and an academic in media and cultural studies. He has published articles on pop culture, subcultures and Malaysian cultural politics. He adheres to the three-chords-and-the-truth school of songwriting, and Woody Guthrie’s maxim “All you can write is what you see”. He is @azmyl on Twitter.

* This is the opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of The Malaysian Insight. Article may be edited for brevity and clarity.