Michael the Mystic
My students often have the same requests in lessons. “I want to play high, to play fast, to have incredible endurance, to multiple tongue with ease, to improvise like the greats, to have a world-class tone.”
They believe that I have some silver bullet or secret recipe to give them. Like I’m some bearded mystic, living in solitude, growing weary with age – my only purpose being to bless some brave young musician with the golden mouthpiece crafted by the gods that will solve all of their playing difficulties.
I’m pretty cool… but I’m not that cool.
My reply often frustrates the student. “It just takes time, diligence and patience.” They look at me as though I’ve failed them. And then we get to work on some slow, easy practice that, when zoomed all the way in, may not seem to get them any closer to their ultimate goals.
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It can be a daunting journey to become great at anything. Imagine looking up at a mountain from its base. It’s a long, difficult, and treacherous path to the top — and you probably haven’t drunk enough water yet to make it. And yet, many others have already climbed that mountain. And they’ve probably already come back down by the time you’ve read this blog with your morning coffee… overachievers.
How did they do it? Patiently, one step at a time, especially at first. Probably stopping at least a few times to take in all of the scenery along the way and observe the majesty of the world around them. Enjoying all of the twists in the road, unsuccessfully scaling a flat wall only to find there was a carved-in staircase a few steps away, laughing as a friend takes a tumble right after giving an unsolicited hiking tip. (Yeah, we all saw it — and you’ll definitely be hearing about it for the next few hours.)
Our practice is the same. The only goal of every day should be to take one step further on the path — or to understand and appreciate your current scenery better than you did before. If you could magically get to the top of the mountain, the peak would lose its beauty. (And, more importantly, I’d be out of a job.)
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Take another step or two today — whether you’re practicing the trumpet, improving your golf swing or downward dog, or on whatever path you find yourself. I’ll be walking alongside, working on my pitch for the golden-god mouthpiece and attempting to grow a sick beard.
And honestly…I don’t know which is less likely to happen.
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