Here’s the famous joke: “How do you get to Carnegie Hall? Practice, practice, practice.”
As someone who has performed at Carnegie Hall and whose students have performed at Carnegie Hall, I can verify that this answer is true.
On my podcast The Practice Parlour, I talk with world-class artists about the practices that help them to thrive, both onstage and off.
The show is now in its seventh month, and a question I’m often asked is: “What do you mean by practice?”
Let’s clarify that.
Here are a few definitions of “practice:”:
Merriam Webster:
to do something again and again in order to become better at it
to pursue a profession actively
Oxford:
The actual application or use of an idea, belief, or method, as opposed to theories relating to it.
Perform (an activity) or exercise (a skill) repeatedly or regularly in order to improve or maintain one's proficiency.
Cambridge Dictionary:
carry out; apply
action as opposed to thoughts, ideas, or plans
I’ve been practicing since before I can remember - crawling, walking, talking - and consciously practicing since I was four years old and started taking piano lessons. My teacher and I would walk around her apartment as I attempted to keep a steady beat with my little footsteps. Then she would clap a series of sounds, and I would repeat the pattern back to her.
I didn’t realize it then, but I was practicing how to physically internalize rhythm and trust my sense of timing. For the music nerds out there, I was doing a four-year-old’s version of Dalcroze eurythmics.
Now, at 34 years old, I still practice walking the beat and clapping the rhythm. My practice is significantly more advanced, but I practice the same fundamentals that I practiced as a toddler, just like an NBA player who practices free throws before each game.
A practice is a process. Unlike the habitual routine of brushing your teeth, a practice requires thoughtful intention and reflection. I don’t brush my teeth and ask myself how I can brush better next time. I simply do the action and check the task off of my list.
But when I practice, I’m always striving to meet a greater standard of excellence. A practice requires that you not only go through the motions, but also actively engage with them. It meets you where you are and asks you to get one percent better each day.
A practice is physical. It is both art and science. A practice demands consistency and specificity - asking new questions, searching for greater clarity, and making fresh discoveries. It also requires reflection and grows over time in its depth and detail.
Practice is different than rehearsal. Rehearsal is preparation for a specific event, usually in service of somebody else’s vision. For example, we rehearse for the upcoming play under the leadership of a director. But practice is engaging with art for its own sake. It is a quest for mastery, not applause.
We are now starting month eleven of practicing how to do life in quarantine - masked-up and physically distanced. This is a way of life that we all prefer not to practice. But, since these are the circumstances that we find ourselves in, we might as well practice how to optimize them for the better.
As you assess your footsteps, find new rhythms, and walk through these first days of 2021, take a moment to reflect on your practices:
Where are you investing your resources of time, money, energy, relationships, and emotional labor?
Where are your practices intentional and where are you falling into undesirable habits?
What is helping you to thrive during this abnormal season and what no longer serves you?
Which new practices have you developed in 2020 that you wish to maintain?
Which elements of your practice do you find most challenging?
Which practices is it time to let go of?
Which practices will you create fresh in order to move toward your goals in 2021?
Share your favorite practices in the comments below:
