A quick primer: In 1996, three Italian neuroscientists, Giacomo Rizzolatti, Leonardo Fogassi, and Vittorio Gallese put an electric probe into the premotor cortex of monkeys. They discovered that inside these primate brains there were networks of cells that "store vocabularies of motor actions." Just as there are grammars of language, rules for forming a sentence, there are grammars of movement. These populations of cells are the bodily "sentences" we use every day, the ones our brain has chosen to retain and refine.
But these cells aren't just essential for performing complex actions. As Rizzolatti, Fogassi, and Gallese wrote: "The main functional characteristic of mirror neurons is that they become active both when the monkey makes a particular action (for example, when grasping an object or holding it) and when it observes another individual making a similar action." In other words, these peculiar cells mirror, on our inside, the outside world; they enable us to internalize the actions of another. They collapse the distinction between seeing and doing.
If you pull nothing else from the above, remember that YOU have the ability, already within you, evolved over many thousands of genetic iterations before you, to observe something, and then to collapse the distinction between seeing and doing, without analysis of any kind.
It's kind of a hard wired thing.
If you aren't yet convinced how powerful this is, consider our sport of ski racing. Although our training sessions may range from two to eight hours per day, the actual amount of time spent performing the act itself is ridiculously small by comparison. Most of our training time is spent in that "between time," e.g. riding the lift, talking, waiting, etc. Even six full length runs in the morning and four in the afternoon, considered by many to be as high a volume as is tolerable, you have spent a total of ten minutes out of your entire day performing the act that you're trying to get better at. At 36 direction changes per run, you have exactly 360 turns, 180 on each leg, and the bottom third of each of those runs may be compromised because of the difficulties of executing fine motor control movements while fatigued by the anaerobic nature of our sport. This is hardly the kind of repetition that is going to allow you to learn a complex movement pattern in a variable environment.
If it is true however that observing a thing can be perceived as doing a thing, and that our sport is very largely a mental endeavor in the first instance, you could at the end of that "ten minute" training day go home and watch world class skiers do exactly what you're doing, more "perfectly" than you do it, thousands upon thousands of times. Your mirror neurons are incapable of knowing, or caring, that what you are watching is not you actually doing it. Their job is to learn.
Next post: Putting it into practice, and some examples.
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