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Hey, here's your Weekly Rx. No filler, I promise.
Words Worth Keeping
"When opportunity comes, it's too late to prepare."
— John Wooden, who won ten national championships at UCLA by treating practice like the game had already started
Abbey Road Studios, a few weeks ago. Behind that door, an orchestra was recording a film score.
This Week
I want to tell you about a version of me from years ago, because I keep meeting him in my coaching inbox.
That guy practiced every day. No missed days, no excuses. He was proud of that, and honestly he had a right to be.
But if you'd stopped him in the hallway and asked what he was preparing for, he wouldn't have had an answer. All those hours, pointed in every direction at once. Working hard on everything is a sneaky way of working toward nothing.
And some part of him was waiting. Waiting for somebody to knock on the door and say, okay, now it's real, now get serious.
I grew out of it eventually. Mostly because thirty years went by and nobody ever knocked. Not on my door, not on anybody's. The real thing shows up looking like a normal Tuesday, and it doesn't wait around while you get serious.
The Prescription
Read the Wooden line again. It's about timing. The audition posting, the excellent gig, the last-minute subbing call. By the time any of them shows up, the preparing part is finished. You've got whatever you already did.
Putting in hours doesn't automatically count as preparing. The people who write to me are working plenty hard. They're just pointed nowhere in particular, like I was. Hard work feels like progress even when it isn't going anywhere.
Try this today. Before you play anything, write one sentence about what the session is for. It has to be something you can check afterward. "Get better" doesn't count. Neither does "don't suck." "Play the opening of Mahler 5 without rushing" counts. If you can't come up with the sentence, that's information. It means you're about to spend two hours practicing your habits. (And likely mostly the bad ones.)
The time to be ready was three weeks ago. So aim today's work at something.
I took that photo at Abbey Road, on tour. Behind that door, a full orchestra was recording a soundtrack. If you've never played in a recording studio, it's quite a sensation. The red light goes on and it's go time. I haven't found a better metaphor for being ready.
Nobody knocks. The light is already on.
Want accountability? Hit reply and send me today's sentence. I read every one.
Happy practicing,
Chris @ Honesty Pill Coaching
Something land? Something miss? Hit reply. I read them.
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