Nice Recovery!

This happened recently, giving me a fast case of emotional whiplash:

My teen son plays pipe organ.  He sometimes plays for church services.  He's been doing this on and off for six years, and he seems to have mastered the art of performing (which is different from technical skill...although ideally the two travel together). 

Very recently, my son was charged with providing most of the music for a church service.  Things were going well, until he got to the second or third piece, a hymn. 

He began the short introduction.  The first three notes might have been correct, but none of the remaining notes and chords were.  I don't know if his hands were just out of position or what the problem was, but as he continued playing, keeping correct rhythm and tempo.  I could feel myself curling up in embarrassment for him.

Then, something happened:

My son finished the introduction, and while holding the last chord with one hand and his feet, reached around with his other hand and gave the congregation a big thumbs-up.  Those who could see him started laughing.  My son gave himself a tiny shake, then launched into the hymn.  No problems.

As soon as I saw his thumbs up, I knew it was going to be ok. 
He hadn't freaked out.  He wasn't questioning his ability to play.
He just made a mistake...and immediately put it behind him.
I was even more proud of his recovery, than had he played error-free. 

Embracing the idea failure as a temporary and transient thing takes amazing mental discipline to develop.  I know...I continue to work at it in my own figure skating.  I've had bad falls I was able to mentally shake off, because I understood they were just flukes, and minor falls that bothered me for weeks, making me hesitant and even more prone to mistakes.

I know belief can't overcome lack of technique or knowledge, in any realm.
"You just gotta believe in yourself" isn't particularly helpful...or true.
But, I also know belief can take perfectly good technique, skill or knowledge, and slam-dunk it right into the trash.  "She lost her nerve."  or "He lost his focus."

I'm keeping the image of that thumbs up "pinned" to the front of my brain, for the next time I start to talk myself out of something I actually can do. 

It's a great reminder that past performance (even just seconds in the past) is no guarantee of future (right now)...failure.