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It’s not the mountain we conquer but ourselves

This quote by the renowned mountaineer Sir Edmund Hillary speaks to the internal journey one embarks on when pursuing a challenging goal.

Hillary used this metaphor in the context of climbing Mount Everest, but it applies equally well to musicians. The art of music is not merely about mastering an instrument, performing in front of an audience, or writing a hit song. It is about overcoming internal barriers self-doubt, fear, discipline, and emotional vulnerability – that stand in the way of artistic expression.

Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay preparing to depart on their successful summit climb of Mount Everest, 28 May 1953

One of the primary struggles for musicians is the challenge of self-doubt. Every musician, whether a novice, advanced amateur or a professional, must contend with moments of uncertainty. For some, this doubt may manifest as imposter syndrome, where one questions one’s own ability or talent, or whether they deserve the success they have achieved. For others, it may be the fear that their work will never be “good enough” to be shared with the world. In this sense, the “mountain” musicians must climb is not just about technical proficiency or public recognition, but the climb to overcome the negative internal voices that can stifle creativity. By conquering this self-doubt, musicians can unlock their true potential, allowing themselves to create without fear of judgment.

The discipline required to become a skilled musician is another form of internal conquest. Mastery of an instrument or voice demands relentless, consistent and deep practice; repetition; and a willingness to push through frustration. Often, musicians must sacrifice time, leisure, and social life to hone their craft. It can take years of dedication before they reach a level where their skills truly reflect their artistic vision. This is not an external struggle against a physical obstacle but rather an internal one. The musician must cultivate patience, perseverance, and a deep sense of commitment. In this context, conquering oneself involves overcoming laziness, distractions, and the temptation to give up when progress feels slow.

In addition, musicians face the challenge of emotional vulnerability. Music is an intensely personal and emotional art form, and for many, sharing their music with others feels like exposing their deepest self and private feelings. The act of performing in front of an audience or releasing a recording to the public can be terrifying, as it opens the door to criticism and rejection. Yet, it is only by confronting this fear that musicians can truly connect with their audience. The vulnerability inherent in music-making is a reminder that the greatest battles are often fought within us. By conquering the own fear of judgment, musicians can find the courage to be authentic and, in doing so, create art that resonates with others.

Lastly, the idea of self-conquest in music also relates to the search for personal identity. Musicians often struggle to find their unique voice, especially in a highly competitive industry that pressures them to conform to popular trends while also demanding distinctness and a “unique selling point’. This requires a deep level of introspection and self-awareness. The journey to discover one’s true musical voice is a struggle with the self – overcoming the desire to imitate others and having the confidence to present something original.

Just as Edmund Hillary’s victory was not merely reaching the top of Everest but proving to himself what he was capable of, so a musician’s greatest achievement is conquering the inner obstacles that impede growth. Ultimately, music, like mountaineering, is a journey of self-discovery, where the external challenges serve as a backdrop to the internal conquest.

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Do Not Mistake Activity for Progress: A Lesson for Musicians

The phrase “Do not mistake activity for progress” serves as a powerful reminder that being busy is not the same as being effective. Nowhere is this more relevant than in the life of a musician, where countless hours are spent practicing, refining technique, and mastering pieces. A romantic misconception persists, amongst musicians themselves as well as the general public, that musicians must spend hours and hours in the practice room to achieve perfection.

This article explores how the distinction between mere activity and genuine progress is particularly important for musicians, and how understanding this difference by employing focussed, thoughtful practice – quality rather than quantity – can lead to more productive and meaningful practice and results.

For many musicians, the act of practicing can become habitual. Sitting down you’re your instrument, playing through scales, or repeating pieces from memory may feel productive because it takes time and effort. But if these routines are executed without thoughtful engagement, they may offer little return in terms of technical and artistic development. In other words, you can be very active without actually improving. This is where the warning not to conflate activity with progress becomes critical. Just because a musician is practicing does not mean they are practicing well.

Effective practice requires focus, intention, and feedback. It’s not just about the quantity of time spent, but the quality of that time. For example, a violinist who practices a difficult passage for thirty minutes without addressing the underlying technical issues – such as bowing technique, intonation, or rhythm – is likely to repeat and reinforce mistakes. This is, in effect, simply “going through the motions” rather than engaging in deep, thoughtful, considered practicing. In contrast, a musician who spends just ten minutes isolating and correcting these problems may make far more progress. Thus, mindful, goal-oriented practice can achieve more in less time than mindless repetition.

The concept of deliberate practice, popularised by psychologist Anders Ericsson, is particularly useful in this context. Deliberate practice involves working just beyond one’s current abilities, identifying weaknesses, setting specific goals, and seeking constructive feedback. For musicians, this might mean slowing down a difficult section, using a metronome, recording oneself for critique, or working with a teacher, mentor or even a trusted colleague or friend to identify areas for improvement. Each of these activities is targeted and purposeful, aimed at achieving real growth rather than simply filling practice hours.

In addition, mistaking activity for progress can lead to frustration, burnout and even injury. (‘over-practicing’ is a real issue!). Musicians may feel that despite spending many hours practicing, they are not advancing, which can be discouraging and demotivating. Understanding that not all practice is equal allows you to assess the effectiveness of your practice routines and make the necessary adjustments. It encourages reflection, a crucial aspect of productive practicing: What am I trying to achieve? Is this exercise helping me reach that goal? What could I change to improve my results?

By focusing on the quality rather than the quantity of practice, musicians can ensure that their activity translates into meaningful progress. Ultimately, it is not how much one practices, but how one practices, that leads to mastery.

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I admit it, I’m a fervent auto-didact, a “self-teacher” whose answer to “how do I do that?” is to either reach for a book or more likely these days, look it up on Google or YouTube.

For me, self-teaching goes hand-in-hand with mastery as both require a willingness to stick to the task with a deep sense of purpose and intent.

Self-teaching – the process of educating oneself without the guidance of a formal teacher or instructor- is a powerful tool that can be used to acquire new skills, deepen existing knowledge, and pursue personal interests. One of the main benefits of self-teaching is that it allows for a customised learning experience. Traditional music education often follows a one-size-fits-all approach, which tends not to treat each student as an individual, with their own strengths and weaknesses. With self-teaching, you have the freedom to choose the materials, resources, and speed of progress that work best for you. This can make the learning process more engaging, effective and, importantly, interesting.

Why is self-teaching important for the musician? Self-teaching can be a great way to build self-motivation and self-discipline. When you take responsibility for your own learning, you develop a sense of ownership and pride in your achievements. This can be a powerful motivator and can lead to increased confidence and self-esteem. More importantly, self-teaching encourages creative thinking, problem-solving, and curiosity – all useful skills for the musician.

My own experience of self-teaching has been extremely positive and motivating. When I moved away from London five years ago, I left behind several very important teachers and mentors, who had supported, encouraged, and inspired me while I was studying for professional performance diplomas, having returned to the piano after an absence of nearly 25 years. Having studied with two master teachers for nearly 10 years and received mentorship from several other significant pianist-teachers, I felt ready to “go it alone” and cease piano lessons altogether. I would not have felt sufficiently confident to do this had my teachers and mentors not instilled in me a sense of trust in my own musical instincts, secure technique, and a strong awareness of my own interpretative choices and artistry as a musician. Thus, I had firm foundation on which to continue my musical studies on my own.

It may take me longer to work out certain technical issues at the piano, but the process of self-teaching encourages one to find a way through a problem, which in itself becomes a useful learning tool. I also feel liberated from the sense that there is a “right way” to play certain repertoire; interpretative choices are down to my own knowledge and appreciation of the music.

Self-teaching does come with its own set of challenges, one of the biggest being staying motivated and on track. Without the guidance of a teacher, it can be easy to lose focus or become discouraged. To overcome this challenge, it is important to set clear goals, create a practice schedule, and seek out trusted friends and colleagues who can provide feedback and encouragement.


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I’ve “borrowed” this quote from the great Belgian cyclist Eddy Merckx. Nicknamed “the Cannibal”, Merckx, the most successful male rider in the history of competitive cycling. I reckon Eddy knows what he’s talking about when he says:

Ride as much or as little, or as long or as short as you feel. But ride.

But what does he really mean, and how does this apply to musicians?

“Ride lots” – an abbreviation of Merckx’s above quote – was his simple opinion on how to become a better cyclist. “Play lots” might be a mantra by which musicians can improve their skills.

For the serious cyclist, or committed musician, training or practicing is – or should be – a habit, something we do every day, as regular as brushing one’s teeth. No one, not even professional musicians, or sportspeople, at the top of the game, is born with an innate talent which negates the need to practice and to hone one’s skills.

Those of us who are committed to our musical development, whether amateur or professional, know that regular, intelligent practice equals noticeable progress. There are tens of thousands of articles, blogs, books and social media posts about how to practice better, more efficiently, more productively, in addition to advice one may receive from teachers, mentors, peers, friends….yet this “noise” of information can become overwhelming, to the point where one may feel stalled, unable to practice.

This is where Eddy Merckx comes in.

Merckx was an incredible cyclist. He achieved 525 victories over his eighteen-year career, including 11 Grand Tours (5 Tours de France, 5 Tours of Italy and 1 Vuelta d’Espana), all 5 Monuments (classic races which include the brutal Paris-Roubaix), and three World Championships. He attributed his successes less to rigorous training programmes or advice from coaches and more to simply riding “lots”. He believed that any time spent on the bike was hugely valuable, that there were no short cuts to winning, and that if one really desired success, one should simply “ride lots”. In many ways, his attitude mirrors that of Anna Kiesenhofer, the Austrian cyclist who won the women’s road race at the Tokyo Olympics. Both were/are driven by a fierce, all-consuming passion.

Eddy Merckx competing in the gruelling Paris-Roubaix race

Just as Merckx recognised the value of time spent on the bike, so we should recognise that any time spent at the piano is useful.

So stop procrastinating and go play! Stop analysing why you’re not progressing with that Bach Prelude & Fugue – and go play! Stop telling others that you “really should be practicing” – and go and play!

Play for two hours, or five, or for just 10 minutes – but play! Practice the pieces your teacher assigned to you, or play the music you love; but play! Reject the tyranny of “should” – just play! Don’t even think about it – just play!

“You train to ride”

This is a mantra from my husband, a keen amateur cyclist (and great admirer of Eddy Merckx). It seems obvious that training, or practicing the piano, leads to improved skill and greater executive function, yet too much time can be spent theorising and analysing methods of training or practising, without actually doing it. Is it not better to simply “play lots”?

I appreciate that this flies in the face of what most of us are taught – that intelligent, focused, “quality not quantity” practicing leads to noticeable improvement – but I also believe that the intent has to be driven by an overwhelming desire to simply spend time the with instrument. If you prefer to loll on the sofa watching Netflix, while saying “I really should be practicing”, you’re not displaying real intent or commitment. Instead, be driven by that all-consuming passion to play – and play lots