“Clap when everybody claps”.

When I first started going to classical music concerts, I noticed there was a “secret code” I had no idea how to figure out.

The code was “when do you clap your hands?”

Classical concerts are, most times, divided into musical pieces -or- if it is a symphony- than to the parts of the said symphony.

Between each piece-or part, the orchestra takes a very very short break, to signal the movement.

But- I realized that the secret code rules aren’t as simple as “clap every time the orchestra takes that very short break”.

Some times the audience claps -although it’s only the middle of the symphony, most times- they clap only at the end of the final part of the symphony.

I couldn’t understand the secret code rules, so, naturally, I googled it.

The advice given was to either try and follow the concert program, distributed at the entrance, or- do what apparently most people do–

“clap when everybody else claps”.

This is the simplest rule of thumb to follow: you evidently cannot go wrong when you wait to see what everyone else does, and only act then, thus refraining from clapping on your own free will, when you feel like clapping, and clapping even when you wouldn’t have clapped if it were totally up to you.

I know, it feels so much safer to keep quiet, not make a fuss, not clap when everybody is silent and obedient, even when you feel it is totally wrong and you really should clap. clap to make a statement, to be heard.

But sometimes, the regret you feel from not following your heart and clapping when you feel you should clap- overcomes the snug safe feeling of waiting for other people to lead the clapping.

*I leave it to you to decide whether this post is speaking metaphorically or not. 

The cooliflower.