The Silence of Music.

A hallmark of zen is silence. A hallmark of the LSAT is silence. And a hallmark of good music is silence. 

This could be the silence of John Cage's 4'33. It might be the holistic quote of Claude Debussy: "Music is the space between the notes." Perhaps it's the quiet following the finale of an epic composition, the empty downbeats among reggae's upstrokes, or, if you're into the maniacally riveting phenomenon that is dubstep, it's the brief but catacombic stillness before a heavy, wobble-bass plants a black hole in your chest.

What makes silence so important to zen, the LSAT, and music is that silence reveals the presence of things—the way a shadow reveals a light source. When we are quiet during meditation, the silence we immerse ourselves in reveals the multitude of noise in both our physical and mental space. The silence enforced by the LSAT proctors should give your logic machine enough space to relax and let the answers—which in nearly all instances are obvious—reveal themselves. (In some cases, LSAT silence will humiliatingly reveal who in the test room is making those sobbing noises.)

Silence in music most often reveals our feelings, desires, memories, and expectations. In the quiet moments before we select a song, why do we select that song? What moves the finger toward a particular playlist? Of course it's a desire to hear the song, but why? Are we just killing time or do we expect to get something out of it? And in the silent moment when the song is finished, is it a thought or a feeling in us? Would the song be as fulfilling if once it stopped we immediately started discussing work?

Within music, we notice empty spaces and so more fully hear the actual notes; silence in the music itself arouses our desire and anticipation of what's next. If ever you've found yourself in a lounge with a crooner singing a song you know by heart, you'll experience first-hand what the singer's lyrical "mis"-timing does to your expectations—and arousal (Frank Sinatra, anyone?). Most familiar, however, is the brief instant in a piece of music where all instruments and/or singing stops...in this moment—nanosecond or a breath—hangs orgasmic expectation. This is difficult to explain, so just go here (0:59; to a lesser degree 2:27), here (3:25), or here (entire song; there is silence between nearly every seven notes) for some examples.

So how does any of this help you in your quest to peace of mind or a 172? Well, many people meditate to music—I don't recommend it, but some people swear by it. They say it puts them in a quiet state of mind.

But with practice, LSAT students can use music to their advantage: take an inventory of the mind before a practice test. Anxious? Bored? Sad? Angry? Then, in the silence before selecting a song take an inventory of the mind. Anxious, bored, sad, or angry? Then take an inventory after the song. Is the feeling exacerbated? Has it subsided? Is it gone entirely? Are you one with it? Now find a way to address the feeling before a test with music you use when experiencing that feeling any other time.

The idea is to use music to manipulate your brain into feeling okay with being quiet enough to do advanced logical problems for the whole of the test. If you're anxious, you need some perspective to calm down. Everyone has a song that calms them down. If you're bored, you need something to stir you: I recommend at least ten minutes of Mozart's Requiem. If you're sad or angry or whatever, you need focus. As I've said before, a moody mind clouds the necessary reasonging for the LSAT. Music provides the catharsis for whatever feelings are sloshing, boiling, or fluttering around inside...but you can't know what they are or what will release them without being quiet.