I'd been training in karate for a while when my teacher asked me to start training as a class assistant (preparatory to becoming an instructor). Now that I would have to understand how people learn (which you have to do in order to understand how to teach them), she keyed me into a concept so fundamental it applies to every learning situation I've encountered ever since. She said that at the beginning, people can only concentrate on the completely basic, absolutely mandatory core of what they're doing. If you're teaching them how to punch, at first the only thing they can focus on is the concept of moving the fist from here to there. Only after that's under control can they broaden their concentration to include the fine points of the exact path the fist travels, and then the involvement of the hips, the difference a particular stance makes, the distance to the opponent, how to *adjust* the distance to the opponent, when a punch is a good idea, what to do before and after the punch -- and outward and outward, broader and broader.**

Tonight at fencing, my focus abruptly widened enough for me to start thinking about using my fingers to move the point around. This is something that, despite conscious effort, has eluded me up to now. I could understand *in theory* why it would be a good idea, and I made a few awkward tries at it, but it didn't seem to make any difference. It was too soon. I was trying to broaden my focus too much, relative to the work I had to do on things that were more basic. But tonight, quite suddenly, I could feel what I ought to be doing, how I ought to be doing it, and exactly what benefit I could expect from it. A bizarre feeling -- like flicking on a light switch (or maybe dropping a Tetris block into place).

Mind you, I'm still not too terribly *good* at it yet. But it started to happen, and it started to *work*, all by itself, tonight. I should trust my brain and my body more. I don't have to solve all their problems. They do all right by themselves if I give them time.

**This also applies to the act of teaching, as well. At first you can only concentrate on having a lesson plan and following it. Only then can you broaden your focus to include whether the students are performing the skills more or less okay, and then whether they're performing them terrifically, and then whether they're bored or (conversely) pushed too quickly, whether there are distractions for your students inside or near the room, whether an observer comes in to loiter (common in karate classes), whether a parent over in the corner has something to ask you, and outward and outward.