How to Navigate a Practicing Slump: Four Tips

You probably know what a practicing slump feels like. Where once you might have practiced happily, even eagerly, now the thought of picking up your instrument makes you tired, or maybe even grumpy. You might dodge the practice room, but then you feel guilty about it. Or, you might succeed in dragging yourself there, but every minute feels like a grind. Why are you doing this again? What’s the point?

Practicing slumps are normal. I have them; my colleagues have them; my students have them. But I think we’re particularly vulnerable to them after we’ve attempted big, sweeping changes….in other words, for many of us, in January.

We make bold promises in January. We embark on new musical journeys and projects. We tell ourselves that this is the year we’re going to get it all done! We practice every day! With enthusiasm!

By February, our resolve beings to flag. Our January pace proves difficult to sustain, and we’re more and more tempted to throw up our hands and maybe also go back to bed. February is like January with a hangover.

Practicing slumps are totally normal, but it’s also important that we know how to navigate through them. A practice slump in an of itself isn’t harmful, but if you let it drag you down, it can diminish your participation in, and enjoyment of, music– and that’s a sad thing!

So how do you deal with a practicing slump, whether in February or any other time? Here are my top four tips!

Take a Break

Sometimes we need to intentionally rest and reset. If you spend three days away from the instrument by accident, intending to play every day, you’re going to fill guilty and powerless. But if you allot yourself three days of time-limited, intentional rest, chances are fairly good that you’ll return to your practice refreshed and reenergized. The key is to make your break purposeful and deliberate.

Wait it Out

This is the route I probably take the most. Sometimes, with a practicing slump, you just need to ride it out. If I’m feeling the tell-tale lack of energy and enthusiasm that signifies a practicing slump, I’ll put in a bare minimum amount of time, stopping once I reach it unless I feel like doing more. Putting in, say, 20 minutes a day keeps me in the game and helps me maintain my technique, as well as the habit of practicing, while I wait for my enthusiasm to return.

Shake it Up

Sometimes you don’t need a break from practicing so much as you need a break from practicing a particular thing. Instead of walking away from the instrument, try something different. Memorize a favorite tune, listen to recorder players online, sight read easy pieces, mess with a different clef. Trying something new, or even just swapping tasks, can bring your practicing slump to a close.

Phone a Friend

There’s nothing like engaging musically with other people to help us a practicing slump! Grab a friend and try something musical. You can play with them, listen to music together, ask them to be your audience for a mini-performance….even teach them the rudiments of the recorder! Getting another human being in the room can be immensely beneficial.

If you find yourself in a practicing slump this month (or any month), try one of these techniques. February may be extra long this year, but your practicing slump doesn’t have to be!

What Being a Student is Teaching Me

Recently, I’ve become a student again.

To be honest, it was not on purpose! As a working mother of two, my life was already quite full, and I wasn’t looking to add more to my plate.

But an old music school classmate of mine, a singer, was interested in taking recorder lessons, and she offered to barter lesson for lesson. And then I found that my son, who wanted to take tae kwon do, participated noticeably more if I was learning, too.

So I’m studying voice! And tae kwon do! And while it’s true that I’m a slightly better singer than when I started, and a slightly better martial artist than when I started, I think at least half the value, for me, of taking lessons has been a more direct window into the experiences of my students.

Here’s what it’s teaching (or re-teaching) me!

I Don’t Know What I Don’t Know

It’s a phenomenon I’ve observed consistently in my students, but it’s been fascinating to watch it unfolding in myself. As a learner, you are often simply not able to perceive even the outline of things you don’t know.

Here’s an example: One of the first tae kwon do moves I learned was something called high block, where you raise your arm to block a strike coming at your face. After two sessions, I thought I had it down absolutely pat! I was flawless! Brilliant, even!

After four sessions, I got clued in to the fact that the order of my movements was off. After six sessions, it dawned on me that my thumb position mattered. After eight sessions, I realized the angle of my arm needed to change. At this point I have no doubt there are more realizations ahead.

Learning is a process in which you expand not only skills, but also your perception. I compare it to flying in a plane: At first, you might see mountains and rivers and lakes. As you get closer, you begin to perceive that there are also settlements and roads. It’s only once you get even closer that you’re able to make out individual houses and vehicles.

The more you know, the more you realize how much you don’t know. How cool is that?

Cognitive Load Matters

This is something else I already knew, but it’s been valuable to feel it more viscerally.

Basically: Humans have a limited capacity for conscious engagement. If we’re wrestling with something that is taking a lot of conscious thought, we’re not going to be able to complete additional processing unless it is happening more or less automatically, below the level of conscious control.

This means that, for students, you need to consider cognitive load. Take note of what the students are able to do automatically, and try to tax them with only one additional high-load, conscious assignment at a time. And if you’re a learner, don’t try to do it all at once!

I Really Do Know What I’m Talking About

The beauty (curse?) of returning to formalized learning after having taught for a very long time is that I hear my own voice yapping away in my head. And you know what? I give some really great advice!

When I’m worried I’m backsliding, I remind myself that progress is not linear. When I’m frustrated by the pace of my improvement, I recollect that learning is a long road, and that many skills simply require the consistent investment time over time. I know that I need to practice relaxation. I know that I need to practice curiosity. I know that treating my mistakes neutrally, as data, will ultimately lead to my growth.

It’s comforting to reaffirm that most of what I’m telling my students is exactly on point. And to rediscover the joy of learning!

The Thing About Ornamentation I Wish Everyone Knew

As I write this, I have just returned from a workshop at which I taught, among other things, a four-day course on ornamentation.

Ornamentation –the practice of adding to and/or changing what’s on the page– is an integral part of playing music from the Renaissance and Baroque eras. It is not optional!

But it can feel feel intimidating, especially (though not exclusively!) if you’re just getting started.

Possibly for this reason, I really enjoy teaching ornamentation.  It’s fun to demystify a complex process, breaking it down so it becomes, step by step, more approachable.   

But what if, instead of four days, I only had one blog entry to cut to the heart of what ornamentation was all about? If I could tell every student of ornamentation only one thing, what would that thing be?

Don’t ornament because you can; ornament because you must.

If your main reason for adding notes is the fact that you can, you are unlikely to be doing the most important job of a musician, which is, like an actor, to bring what’s on the page vividly to life.

The musical text in front of us is the beating heart of our endeavor, and it should be the driving force behind any ornamentation. A good ornament feels compelled.  It feels necessary.  It highlights the shapes and moods and colors and correspondences that are already front of you. It grows from the the music, an organic extension of its power.

An ornament that is not compelled by the music, in contrast, sounds cheap.  It obscures the text. It’s a glitter bomb, burying everything in sparkle.

Don’t be a rhinestone cowboy. Grow your ornaments from seed.

Want more tips on how to ornament with grace and style? Check out my Ornamentation Starter Kit.

What Recorder Players Can Learn from NASA

My son has gotten really into space lately, so we’ve been watching some shuttle launches on video. And while my kid been enraptured by the plume of liftoff, the astronaut gear, and the space ice cream, I’ve been enthralled by something else entirely.

The pre-lauch checklist.

Basically, before any shuttle can launch, the team must make its way through a massive to-do list, examining and double-checking every system. Sure, everyone involved might already feel like everything is ready to go, but if you’re launching into space, readiness should probably be more than a feeling. The checklist ensures that everyone, and everything, is truly ready to proceed.

Other industries make similar use of checklists. There’s a pre-flight checklist for pilots. A pre-surgery checklist for the person cutting into your chest.

Why not a pre-music checklist?

I know I’m not the only one guilty of picking up my instrument and plunging into playing. I try not to, but when I’m feeling short on time, the temptation is real. And I see many students –maybe even most students– beginning to play before they’re fully prepared.

Sure, we’re not astronauts or pilots or surgeons. (At least, most of us aren’t!) If something goes wrong nobody dies, and we might not need a 47-step safety check before we begin to play. But readiness -real readiness- makes us better musicians. And taking the time to run through a quick pre-music checklist before playing is a great way to prime ourselves for musical success.

Try it out next time you pick up your instrument. Before you make a sound, run through the following:

1) Check posture and positioning

2) Check key signature

3) Identify and finger the first note

4) Feel at least one full measure of your tempo

5) Inhale in time and with musical purpose.

I’m betting your checklist improves your launch.