What’s the Zone of Peak Performance?

Many fields limit—sometimes implicitly–their investigations to ‘normal’ and abnormal levels of consciousness and functioning. As a result most people have lost sight of incredible opportunities for optimizing the human condition. So it’s helpful to develop a vision of self-actualization, realization, and peak performance. Such a vision can be based on reports of peak experiences of people from numerous cultures and situations. Precisely what is the ‘zone’ that peak performers talk about?

Preliminary efforts to identify desirable personality traits, skills, environments, or ‘best practices’ have been made, but often the factors identified are tangential or even distractions from what’s essential. What irreducible, core aspects of experience both carry inherent fulfillment and facilitate optimal productivity no matter what we’re doing?

—————————————————-

The zone defined

Being in the zone is a way of describing a state of mind “in which one’s performance seems supernormal.” (Murphy and White, In the Zone, ITZ, 1995, p. 3) When people talk about ‘being in the zone’ they’re pointing out the mental aspect of a peak performance, a exceptionally rewarding or successful way of doing something, e.g. sports or work. Being in the zone is an example of peak experience, which Maslow defined as “a generalization for the best moments of the human being.”

Maslow used the term peak experience as a kind of generalized concept because he “discovered that all of these ecstatic experiences had some characteristics in common.” (p. 101, FRHN) “The person in the peak-experiences usually feels himself to be at the peak of his powers, using all his capacities at the best and fullest. . . . He feels more intelligent, more perceptive, wittier, stronger, or more graceful than at other times. He is at his best . . . . This is not only felt subjectively but can be seen by the observer.” (Maslow, Toward a Psychology of Being, TPB, 1962, pp. 105-6) About such experiences weightlifter Yuri Vlasov said, “There is no more precious moment in life than this . . . and you will work very hard for years just to taste it again.” (ITZ, p. 119) “Numerous writers on aesthetics, religion, creativeness and love uniformly describe these experiences not only as valuable intrinsically, but also as so valuable that they make life worth while by their occasional occurrence.” (TPB, p. 80)

But we still don’t know what the zone is

Although these statements are useful descriptions of peak experience, they are basically just a restatement of the definition of peak experience as “the best moments of the human being.” From these generalizations it’s not clear what these people’s mental states were, nor how they differed from ordinary experience.

Because of this lack of understanding, for most of us, the zone is a nearly magical state of supernormal performance that, at best, we might ‘fall into’, almost accidentally. Precisely what this state is, and how we might foster its more regular appearance, is largely a mystery. This is an unfortunate and sad state of affairs, since the term zone represents the most fulfilling and productive human experiences. How can we hope for more ’super’ moments–during work, education, sports, spiritual pursuits, etc.–when we know so little about the zone?

Difficulties in examining anecdotes about the zone

Despite some possible or even likely confusion, to get more clarity, suppose we pick some of the statements people have made about the zone, and try to compare to our ‘normal’ Western experience.  What might we discover?  What is the nature of the zone? How can we characterize it? Is there anything in common to all zone experiences?  For example, is it true, as people sometimes say, that “the best things in life aren’t things”? Or what if there are several very different kinds of zone experiences?  Anything we can learn will probably be helpful in finding the zone ourselves, or at least in avoiding any dead-ends ‘on the way’ to the zone. Wouldn’t it be great if we can get a better sense of direction in improving fulfillment, happiness, realization, and insight?
 
We can start with a statement from the same weightlifter quoted above. Yuri Vlasov said, “Everything seems clearer and whiter than ever before, as if great spotlights had been turned on.” (ITZ, p. 119) What does this mean? Is he talking about visible light, awareness, or what?

So right away we run into another issue, the use of language. Very few languages (like Sanskrit, which evidently has dozens of words denoting types of consciousness) have a vocabulary sufficiently rich to describe subtle states of mind. And even if we had an adequate vocabulary, few of us are familiar with the different states people try to describe. Most of us are usually preoccupied with conventional communication, focusing on thoughts and labels about concrete things, events, and what particular activity we’re doing: planting, driving, sorting papers, writing, talking, hitting a ball. We talk and think about what’s happening, but typically aren’t concerned much about how we do these things, about the different mental perspectives, states, or focal settings ‘in play’ while we do these things. “It is characteristic . . . to ignore the significance of perspective; to insist that what is seen, as it is seen, is genuinely real.” (Knowledge of Time and Space, KTS, Tulku, p. 107) No wonder the zone is so difficult to recognize! But what else could we expect in Western cultures, where business, science, and education attend primarily to events and physical things, to what’s ‘real’, public, and verifiable. Western communication largely ignores any deeper frame of mind, worldview, or larger-than-personal perspective–which as we’ll soon discover, is exactly what we find in the zone.

Discovering absence of the identity, here-there, and distance strictures 

Let’s put these issues aside and examine some anecdotes about changes in the sense of identity during zone experiences. When in the zone, what was people’s experience of identity like? How was it compared to that during ‘normal’ experiences?  Did people feel identified, united, or even merged with another, their work, a religious or spiritual object, some aspect of nature?  Or did they feel independent, individual, separate, or even isolated?  How did they relate to their usual personality?  Was consciousness or awareness different?

Here’s a report from a Japanese swordsman: “When the identity is realized, I as swordsman see no opponent confronting me . . . . I seem to transform myself into the opponent, and every movement he makes as well as every thought he conceives are felt as if they were all my own . . . . (ITZ, p. 130)   This swordsman in the zone feels identified with his opponent, losing his ordinary identity.  With my ‘normal’ sense of myself, I feel like an independent individual who is separate from other people, rather than identified in some way; and an opponent usually seems even more separate, more ‘different’ from ‘me’.  Perhaps even more remarkable, the swordsman seems aware of “the other’s experience,”–which usually is private, internal, or unknown–as if his own.
 
A judo teaching manual has a similar statement about changes in our normal identity: “When judo is practiced properly, ‘there will be no curtain to separate you from your opponent. You will become one with him. You and your opponent will no longer be two bodies separated physically from each other but a single entity . . . .’” (ITZ, p. 32)    Maslow reported that during peak experience, a person “is more able to fuse with the world, with what was formerly not-self, e.g., the lovers come closer to forming a unit rather than two people, . . . The creator becomes one with his work being created, . . . The appreciator becomes the music . . . .” (p. 105, TPB)  In the zone there is a kind of merging or fusion or unity.

From these statements we see that several strictures, or somewhat stable structural features of experience are not part of these zone experiences: the feeling of being a continuously existing individual separate and distinct from other individuals (this stricture is often called self, or identity), the sense of being here rather than there (the here-there duality), the feeling of having a private inside realm of experience contrasted with a public area where we coexist (inside-outside), and the feeling of distance or separation between physically separate bodies (felt distance).   In the latter stricture, we’re not talking about physical distance or separation, but the feeling of separation, which can change considerably, leading us to say we feel closer or more distant from another.  
Now we can return to the statement by weightlifter Yuri Vlasov: “Everything seems clearer and whiter than ever before, as if great spotlights had been turned on.” (ITZ, p. 119) Let’s compare this to Tarthang Tulku’s description of what happened with his ‘knowledge’ as he discovered a new vision of reality: “The conventional limitation that confines observation to a single ‘point of view’ situated in space and time had less hold. Knowledge itself seemed to be opening, like a light that had previously been obscured by now was radiating from all directions. This knowledge was . . . Less a possession to be obtained than a luminous, transparent ‘attribute’ of experience and mental activity.” (Tarthang Tulku, Love of Knowledge, LOK, 1987, p. xlv) The latter statement contrasts our usual way of knowing and observing things from a single point-of-view (the ‘knower’ pole of the knower-known stricture), with a more open way of knowing or being aware involving a multidimensional or–perhaps equivalently–nondimensional luminosity. This luminosity or unpositioned knowing could be what weightlifter Vlasov said was “clearer and whiter than ever before.”

Dissolving common time strictures 

Next let’s examine a few anecdotes discussing time, movement, and energy flow. In the zone, what was people’s experience of time like? How did time feel to them?  Did it move fast, slow, or did it change speed?   How did their zone experience compare to ‘normal’ experience? Was it timeless, did the flow of events seem ‘greased’, without friction or effort? Or was it friction-filled, or rushed?

Here’s one report: “There is a common experience in Tai Chi . . . . Awareness of the passage of time completely stops.” (ITZ, p. 47) Here’s another, by football player John Brodie: “Time seems to slow way down . . . . It seems as if I had all the time in the world . . . and yet I know the defensive line is coming at me just as fast as ever.” (ITZ, p. 42) Normally, in Western cultures at least, adults experience a very constant, even relentless flow of time among past, present, and future. We might call this stricture constant time flow. However, in these statements we see alternative experiences, time slowing way down, or even stopping. As with distance and separation discussed above, we’re not talking here about physical time, but the feeling of time flowing, which may be independent of physical time.

Another stricture in our normal experience of time is what we might call before-after, wherein one or more events are felt to occur in a series rather than simultaneously. This stricture seems almost constantly present in experience. Nevertheless, there are other possibilities. Baseball player Tom Seaver reported: “As Rod Gaspar’s front foot stretched out and touched home plate, in the fraction of a second before I leaped out of the dugout . . . my whole baseball life flashed in front of me . . . .” (ITZ, p. 47) Apparently we can experience many ‘normally’ sequential events or memories all at once. Meditation master Tarthang Tulku confirms this. “The boundaries distinguishing five minutes from one second are unreal in a certain sense, and so any amount of experience constituting five minutes could also be had in one second. The ’small’ interval is not really smaller, nor is the ‘larger’ one really larger.” (Moon and Randall, Dimensions of Thought, 1980, pp. 41-2)

Now, considering movement and energy flow during peak experience, we find a report about football player Red Grange: “[he] runs . . . with almost no effort. . . . There is only the effortless, ghostlike, weave and glide upon effortless legs.” (ITZ, p. 86) From golfer Bobby Jones: “I was conscious of swinging the club easily . . . . I had to make no special effort to do anything.” (ITZ, p. 86) Normally, whatever we do takes a degree of effort and involves a feeling of control during the activity, what we might call the stricture of effort/self-control. This stricture can be absent during peak experience, as Maslow reported: “[An] aspect of fully-functioning is effortlessness and ease of functioning when one is at one’s best. What takes effort, straining and struggling at other times is now done without any sense of striving, of working or laboring, but ‘comes of itself.’ Allied to this often is the feeling of grace and the look of grace that comes with smooth, easy, effortless fully-functioning, when everything ‘clicks,’ or ‘is in the groove,’ or is ‘in over-drive.’” (TPB, p. 106)

Dissolving common space strictures 

Having explored the zone experience of time and identity a bit, now let’s consider the zone experience of space.  What was people’s sense of space compared to that of ‘normal’ experiences? Did space seem like just an empty container that separated things, or did space itself have some particular qualities?  Did people feel more distant from or closer to other people and things?  Did they feel more connected or separated than usual?  Was the usual feeling of size of things and regions altered somehow?

From his extensive research, Maslow wrote that in peak experience “The astronomer is “out there” with the stars (rather than a separateness peering across an abyss at another separateness through a telescopic-keyhole).” (TPB, p. 105) Thus again, as in the swordsman’s statement above, we see an absence of felt distance, as well as the here-there stricture. Our ‘normal’ frame of reference is absent, involving the subject-object stricture, a sense of an observer or subject or perceiver separate and distinct from what’s observed or perceived or experienced.

Another aspect of our typical experience of space is the size stricture, whereby we feel magnitude of linear dimensions, objects, and areas–again, this is in contrast to actual physical measurement. Golfer Jack Fleck said: “I can’t exactly describe it, but as I looked at the putt, the hole looked as big as a wash tub.” (ITZ, p. 38) Size–both as physical measurement, and as subtle feeling–is usually presumed to be constant, but as this statement indicates, our experience or feeling of size is not constant. The ‘normally’ limiting stricture was absent. From Maslow’s research on peak experience: “One small part of the world is perceived as if it were for the moment all of the world.” (TPB, p. 88) The size and typical frame of reference strictures are not there. Also, the world stricture, whereby we have a very subtle feeling of being within a large world or universe–another feeling that is taken for granted, considered ‘normal’–is not there. According to auto racer Jochen Rindt, “You forget about the whole world and you just . . . Are part of the car and the track.” (ITZ, p. 23)

Also related to space, we can consider the typical feeling (a substance stricture) that things seem to have a kind of substance or reality rather than being something akin to images in a dream, fantasies, illusions, or hallucinations. In contrast to the ‘normal’ sense of living in a substantial world, long-distance runner Bill Emmerton said, “I felt as though I was going through space, treading on clouds.” (ITZ, p. 17) And another runner, Ian Jackson said, “My body seemed insubstantial like some ethereal vehicle of awareness.” (ITZ, p. 135) Pilot Charles Lindbergh wrote, “All sense of substance leaves. There’s no longer weight to my body, no longer hardness to the stick. The feeling of flesh is gone.” (ITZ, p. 116) None less than Einstein claimed that “Everything is made of emptiness and form is condensed emptiness.” (Einstein) Though normal, the perception of substance may be an unnecessary limitation. Tarthang Tulku suggests that the sense of emptiness or transparency depends on our level of relaxation: “Surfaces can appear as such and still be more transparent, because—in a sense—they ‘reflect’ the degree of our own relaxation.” (Tarthang Tulku, Time, Space, and Knowledge, 1977, p. 16)

What can we conclude? What’s the zone like? 

Now let’s return to questions we brought up earlier: How can we describe the zone? Is there anything in common to all zone experiences? Are there several different kinds of zone experiences? 

Zone anecdotes focus on numerous features, and often note the absence of strictures: In the zone there can be a kind of merging or fusion or unity of what ‘normally’ feels separate or independent. Our ‘normal’ frame of reference–the sense of an observer or subject or perceiver separate and distinct from what’s observed or perceived or experienced–may be absent. There can be a multidimensional luminosity that accompanies knowing instead of preoccupation with particular content from a single ‘point of view’. There might be a sense of timelessness, or of time slowing down or stopping instead of the typical sense of time flowing at a constant and unchangeable rate. We might experience many memories simultaneously instead of one at a time. Things may seem effortless in the zone, rather than requiring the effort, strain, or struggle of other times. There can be an absence of felt distance, along with a lack of the sense of here contrasted with there. ‘Normal’ feelings related to size and ‘the world’ may not be present. Things may seem dreamlike or transparent rather than having their ‘normal’ sense of reality, thickness, density, or substantiality.

Judging only from our subjects’ statements, in any one zone experience, all these things are possible, yet all of them need not be present. So it seems there are many different varieties of zone experiences. Clearly several of these features can be present in a given zone experience, as exemplified by Charles Lindbergh’s statement: [For a while during my flight across the Atlantic it was] ” as though I were an awareness [positionless knowing] spreading out through space, over the earth and into the heavens [complete openness], unhampered by time [unobstructed flow] or substance, free from the gravitation that binds men to heavy human problems of the world.” (ITZ, p. 65)

Considering only the time, identity/knowing, and space dimensions, we might say that zone experiences can be characterized by flow, glow, and zero: qualties of unobstructed flow (time dimension), luminous presence and positionless knowing (identity/knowing dimension), and complete and dimensionless openness (space dimension), with varying proportions of these qualities in different experiences.

What’s not in the zone?

We might note that such experiences are not characterized in the least by the presence or absence of particular ordinary objects, processes, or events. The anecdotes do not focus on conventionally designated things or events–which are what we usually focus on in ‘normal’ experience. Indeed, this fact is congruent with the saying that “the best things in life aren’t things.” No wonder the zone is so difficult to recognize, or even to adequately describe!

But much more significantly, we find that all the zone experiences lack one or more of the common strictures, the typically stable, fundamental, and restrictive (at least compared to the zone qualities) experiential structures such as subject-object, substance, here-there, distance, and before-after. This freedom from ‘normally presumed and persistent’ restrictions is likely what makes zone experiences “so valuable that they make life worth while by their occasional occurrence.” (TPB, p. 80) Although in themselves the anecdotes we examined do not imply the following conclusion, we might easily speculate that the ultimate zone experiences–perhaps of those who might be called self-actualized or enlightened–would be devoid of all strictures.

Deconstruction => Zone: Dissolve obstructions and the zone naturally appears

Although the zone seems to be a natural state of mind, all ‘normal’ and neurotic personal as well as culturally ‘normal’ complexes, habits, and strictures seem to limit the appearance of the zone, somewhat the same way that clouds limit our view of everpresent sunlight. Maslow’s subjects said that their peak experiences were “reported as illuminations, as true and veridical characteristics of reality which previous blindness has hidden from them.” (p. 102, FRHN) Yet many structures in our experience–for example, ‘positive’ habits and strictures like self-other, linear time, before-after, and substance– are taken for granted, seen as features of normal knowing and perception, rather than being seen as limitations to well-being or performance. But apparently the more we break up and dissolve these obstructions, the more intensely and frequently the zone shows up. If this is so, whatever we can do to decrease the holding strength of habits and strictures will probably contribute to our improving performance, fulfillment, and awareness. This aligns with statements by Tarthang Tulku: “We may have had glimpses of a higher destiny, but to shape our lives in accord with that vision, we must learn quite specifically how to activate an inquiry that can cut through the structures of our present knowing.” (p. 71, VOK) And: “Full implications of the . . . vision will reveal themselves most clearly through a focus on experience that calls the framework of experience into question.” (p. xxviii, LOK)

Finally, how can we call the ‘framework of experience’ into question and cut through these structures? What methods or disciplines would be effective in exploring and opening up these complexes, habits, and strictures? Psychological approaches are popular and have proven somewhat effective in working through complexes and habits, but how do we deal with the deeper, underlying strictures that are unquestioningly inculcated and presumed ‘normal’ by many cultures? Inquiry into these foundational strictures goes beyond the domain of psychological approaches which–rather than breaking up these obstructions–implicitly presume and thus reinforce at least the self, mind, subject-object, and past-present-future strictures. So it’s necessary to go beyond the prevalent and generally accepted psychological practices. But if it’s possible, and if we can somehow find a way to dissolve all these structures, life might resemble a spontaneous, glowing kaleidoscope of varying facets of the zone.

————————————-
For more on the zone, see http://groups.google.com/group/playing-in-the-zone/files for my article published in the Jossey-Pfeiffer Bass Annual (for a training and development professional audience) named “Pfeiffer Zone article.pdf,” and “TheZone5.doc.” )