It’s Complicated

Why are we able to learn complicated movements? Why are we capable of learning to play the violin or the piano; tie knots, manipulate marionettes—or make shadow puppets? Drive a manual transmission, touch type, crimp a pie crust or sew on a button?

Obviously, all of those things are actually useful so there is a certain impetus created by the demand. But there’s a demand for being able to do long division and find square roots, yet we don’t pick up on those nearly as well. So what is it about complicated movements?

They have the unique property that they can be even more pleasurable than simple movements, for one. Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi might say that a sufficiently complicated movement that demands all of our attention but doesn’t quite exceed our capability can help us to achieve a “flow” state—being completely present, engaged, satisfied and temporarily egoless.

But why? Why should nature reward us with pleasure when we’re operating right around the limits of our ability?

Because just beyond that limit is our new, leveled-up ability after we practice a bit more.

Because when we have a little extra time and energy (as a species) we tend to make everything more beautiful and elaborate—better—than it needs to be.

Because among animals we are slow and weak and limited. Because growth and adaptation and learning is all we’ve got.