You Think It's Just You

The Weekly Rx

Hey — here's your weekly Rx. No filler. I promise.


Words Worth Keeping

"Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: 'What! You too? I thought I was the only one.'"

— C.S. Lewis, who wrote it down in 1960


Hands at the piano in low light

One player, one room, one inner critic running its mouth. Same as everybody else's.


This Week

Most musicians are convinced they're the only one — the only one this far behind, the only one whose practice is a mess, the only one whose inner critic is this loud and this mean. What is wrong with me? So they stay quiet. They don't ask. They just tell themselves everybody else has it figured out and keep working alone.

But I've been at this more than twenty years — from wide-eyed students to the pros I share a stand with. And I can tell you, unequivocally: every single one of us has that same voice in our head. Every one. Nobody cracked a secret code. They're just quieter about the doubt.

And when somebody finally says it out loud — "wait, is this normal?" — and the room says "oh thank god, me too," something actually loosens. People play better. I've been building a room for exactly that, and as of this morning, the door's open. It's right below — that's where you'll find your people.


The Prescription

Haven't read Timothy Gallwey's The Inner Game of Tennis? Read it. Yes, it's a tennis book. Read it anyway. It's one of the best books ever written on performing under pressure — and it's barely about tennis.

Gallwey says you've got two selves:

  • Self 1 — the mouthy critic that won't shut up. "Slow down, you're rushing, ugh that was sloppy."
  • Self 2 — the part that put in the years and actually knows how to play.

Every time Self 1 opens its mouth, it drowns out Self 2. The whole game is getting the critic to sit down so the training can do its job.

Here's how it hits a musician. You didn't put in ten thousand hours just to stand on stage and heckle yourself. The prep is done. And that critic runs wildest when you're alone — nobody there to call its bluff. You don't quiet it by white-knuckling harder in an empty room. You quiet it by hearing somebody else's critic out loud and realizing the thing lies to all of us. Then the job gets simple — simple, not easy. Get out of your own way and let the player you already are show up.

That voice lies to every musician alive. You've just been hearing yours over everything else.


Happy practicing,

Chris signature

Chris @ Honesty Pill Coaching


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