Making records can be messier than a baby's face while eating ice cream. We make plans, but nothing goes accordingly. Gear explodes at random, the bass player shows up a week late to the session because he forgets what band he's in, and the keyboardist's partner spills a $15 green juice on the console. The song we spent eight months writing – and swore was a hit – turns out to make a cat's screech sound like the London symphony. Lastly, what did we need a backup hard drive for? Whoops! Now everything is gone.

In the studio, how we cope with the unexpected can be the difference between creating magic and packing one's bags to become a silent monk. When it comes down to handling situations like these, mindfulness is the secret ingredient that makes all the difference in the world.

Mindfulness is the simple practice of coming back to the present moment. Meditation, breathwork, and yoga are examples of mindfulness techniques that ground us to the here and now. The true "holy shit" power of mindfulness is that it gives us the freedom of choice in our reactions, rather than simply getting pummeled unconsciously into oblivion by what happens to us. Mindfulness grants us the space and agility to pivot consciously, as well as the ability to stay light when things don't go our way in the studio. Mindfulness also gives us the clarity to discern the difference between what is actually in front of us versus what is the inner narrative of our mind.

In any present moment, we have two choices: acceptance or resistance. Acceptance is greeting the present moment – however it may be – with open arms and seeing things as they are. Resistance is wanting the present moment to be different than how it is – in any capacity. Resistance usually creates suffering, frustration, and a feeling of powerlessness.

In mindfulness practice, the whole point is to simply notice what comes up. Notice it without judgment, or thought coloration, and then accept and acknowledge it. In the studio, this acceptance can be the difference between glory and flailing.

Note that at every point of the recording process we are either in acceptance or resistance.

Your favorite guitar amp breaks mid take? Acceptance says, "Okay, great. Let's get creative and figure something else out. Maybe there's a new solution here."

Take the same example of the amp breaking, and resistance says, "Oh no, the session is ruined. No one will know the glory of my tone. I'm fucked and done." This sends one on a first class ticket to Suffertown, lost in the downward spiral of toxic inner narratives. Resistance usually leads to getting caught in fearful and negative thought loops, and, as a result, will bring down the entire vibe of the session.

I've been in both scenarios.

I've been in sessions where things don't go as planned, and it's met with resistance. People start to panic, getting lost in self-defeating and mean inner dialogues. Suddenly the stakes of the session become life or death serious, and the energy in the room becomes blocked and heavy. It quickly seems that music is not so much fun anymore.

I've also been in sessions where things don't go as planned, and it's met with acceptance. The most magical part is that every time I've found that something hasn't gone "according to plan" – and we've leaned into it with acceptance and curiosity – there has been some creative outcome so magical none of us could have planned it. It's like some great recording spirit enters the session and helps us. Something not going our way led us to a way cooler outcome than any of us could have rationally thought of.

To me, this all comes down to trust. Do you trust that things are always happening for you in the studio? Or are you fighting every situation when things don't go according to your ego or limited thoughts?

How we are in the studio is how we are in life. Are we tightening up for control, or are we easing into moments as they come? In every one of these, are we accepting or resisting what happens to us?

Every song and record has a unique path to being born. We don't know what that path is until we are falling face first into it. Our job as creatives is to act as midwives and do anything we can to support the birth of our art. This can often go head to head with the plans and expectations our limited and rational minds have for the process. Are you willing to let your art lead you, or do you need control over the entire process?

The truth is that when making records we are along for the process – the process does not always go along with us. We learn who we are when things don't go our way. In those moments, we can learn to push past the limits of our rational mind and finite expectations and plunge into the beautiful and terrifying creative unknown. Mindfulness helps us with this.

Mindfulness helps us to remember to trust the process and cherish the most important aspect – the journey. Mindfulness helps us to not put as much stress or pressure on the outcome or expectations of the session, or even our life. Every time we realize we get lost in inner narratives, we can come back and ask ourselves, "What is here, what is now, and what is the next right action?"

Invite mindfulness into your next session. Meditate for 20 minutes before it starts. Try pausing before you jump in and set an intention of acceptance. Tell yourself, "Whatever happens in the session today I will accept and be open to it. I will bow to the process." Set an intention of trust; trust that no matter what happens, it's leading you to some outcome greater than you could ever have planned, thought of, or dreamed of alone.

Sessions are just energy flow and consciousness. The present moment is exploding with possibility, energy, and creation. All art is born from the present moment. Coming back to the present moment with acceptance helps us remember to be in flow and to dance along with the sacred process of creation in the recording studio.

So, next time the bass player drunkenly gives your guitar away to the intern mid-session, you can practice mindfulness and smile, wondering where the hell the process and universe is leading you this time.

Tape Op is a bi-monthly magazine devoted to the art of record making.

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