When Perfectionism Turns Practice Into a Crisis
I recently found myself in Paris after a rather exhausting journey: long lines at passport control, miles of walking through the airport, and a car rental reservation that turned out to be unavailable because of the fall school holidays.
It was the kind of travel experience that could easily send someone into a spiral. But surprisingly, I was okay. Things were out of my control, and I knew we'd eventually figure something out.
It made me think about how differently I used to respond to challenges in my musical training.
As a student, almost every lesson felt like a crisis. I worried about my thin altissimo, struggled with large intervals, and wondered how I would ever get difficult repertoire up to tempo. My teacher even started greeting me with, "What are you crying about today?"
Looking back, I realize that my reactions weren't always about the difficulty of the situation. They were about what I believed that difficulty meant about me.
When a musical challenge feels personal
The difference between my travel troubles and my practice struggles was surprisingly revealing.
Travel problems were largely outside my control. I couldn't make the rental company produce a car, so I had to adapt and find another solution.
But when I struggled with a musical passage, I took it personally. My ability felt tied to my worth. If I couldn't master something immediately, I worried about what that said about me as a musician.
The emotional response was much bigger than the problem itself because I cared so deeply about getting it right.
This is something many musicians experience. A difficult passage, an imperfect performance, or a mistake in a lesson can feel like evidence that we're not good enough, rather than simply part of learning.
Understanding defensive pessimism
Psychologist Julie Norem studied a thinking pattern called defensive pessimism. It describes how some people manage anxiety by imagining the worst possible outcome before an important situation and then using that worry to prepare.
Interestingly, her research found that worrying isn't necessarily harmful to everyone. For some anxious individuals, anticipating problems can actually help them perform well because it encourages preparation.
In fact, when these individuals were pushed to think positively or imagine success instead, their performance could suffer.
The important distinction is what happens after the worry.
Does imagining the worst help you identify a problem, make a plan, and take action? Or does it keep you stuck in the same cycle of fear and self-criticism?
For musicians, that difference matters. Concern about an upcoming audition might motivate you to organize your practice, identify weaknesses, and prepare more thoughtfully. But repeatedly telling yourself you'll fail without doing anything constructive only drains your energy.
The goal isn't to eliminate every anxious thought. It's to recognize when that thought can become useful information—and when it's simply keeping you stuck.
What your musical training didn't teach you
Over time, I began noticing another pattern in my students: the gap between what their musical training prepared them for and what they actually needed in their careers.
Music education can provide an extraordinary foundation. It develops technical ability, musicianship, discipline, and performance experience.
But building a sustainable career requires other skills, too.
You might need to understand your relationship with money, turn performance nerves into usable energy, create opportunities for yourself, set boundaries without damaging professional relationships, or learn how to genuinely rest.
These are important parts of a musical career, even if they weren't necessarily covered in your lessons or degree program.
Recognizing those gaps isn't a criticism of your training. It's an opportunity to identify what you need next.
A 10-minute exercise: The Gap Audit
Take ten minutes to reflect on the difference between what you learned in your musical training and what you need in your professional life.
1. Draw two overlapping circles.
Label one "What I learned from my training" and the other "What I need in my career."
2. Fill in the circles.
In the overlapping section, write down what your education prepared you for.
In the second circle, write down what it didn't. Be specific. Consider areas like:
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Developing a healthy money mindset
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Turning performance anxiety into usable energy
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Learning how to say no without burning bridges
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Creating professional opportunities
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Building confidence beyond musical ability
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Learning how to rest without feeling guilty
3. Identify your biggest gap.
Look at everything you've written and circle the one area that's costing you the most right now.
4. Turn it into a plan.
Underneath your circles, answer two questions:
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What do I care about here?
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What is one thing I can do about it this week?
The first question acknowledges why this matters to you. The second helps turn that feeling into something actionable.
From worry to action
Being a musician often means caring deeply about what you do. That investment can make challenges feel enormous, especially when your sense of self-worth becomes tied to how well you perform.
But not every difficulty is a crisis, and not every gap is a personal failure.
Sometimes, the most useful thing you can do is recognize what you're feeling, understand why it matters, and identify one small step forward.
You don't have to solve your entire career this week. You just have to know where to begin.
Ixi
P.S. Founding member doors for Thrive open November 15. You’ll start with Thrive as it is today and be in when the new Thrive arrives January 1. Reply “founding” and I’ll add you to the list. If you're already a Thriver, you move up a tier gratis!
P.P.S. We are being alert and careful going in and out of the city. Fortunately our hotel is outside of Paris, but we're monitoring things carefully!
The Turning is now through November 15. Want to focus in on the essentials? We're trimming the extra extra and getting our professional materials polished.