Putting the “Play” Back in Playing an Instrument
You pick up your guitar or sit at the keyboard, and you want to feel something. But instead, you’re tangled up in technical exercises, trying to remember the next chord shape, or chasing someone else’s riff on YouTube. Your fingers might be moving, but the music isn’t flowing. It feels disconnected.
All too often, instrumental study becomes rigid, mechanical, and disconnected from the deeper impulse that drew you to music in the first place. You’re told to practice scales, follow instructions, master someone else’s song. But no one shows you how to stay connected to soul, to story, to feeling and meaning. No one asks what you want to express.
And over time, you might start to believe that creativity comes later—after you master the basics. That self-expression is something you earn once you’ve jumped through all the hoops.
But the truth is, the longer you wait, the further it drifts.
The Cost of Disconnection
When our relationship to our instrument becomes too focused on execution over expression, we start to feel the symptoms:
- Your technique might improve, but your joy doesn’t.
- You know the shapes, but not the sound.
- You can play what you’ve memorized, but improvising feels out of reach.
- Your guitar technique feels mechanical and doesn’t help you feel the music.
- The inner critic hijacks your practice sessions.
- The spark that brought you to music in the first place grows dimmer.
And unless we course-correct, the likely result isn’t just a plateau in progress. It’s deeper than that.
You risk unnecessary frustration, even injury—repetitive stress from over-practicing in ways that don’t align with your body or brain. You risk the slow erosion of creative confidence, the internalized belief that you just don’t have “it.” You might keep going through the motions, but wonder why it no longer lights you up.
We risk filling the world with players who can replicate someone else’s style, but can’t tell their own story. And on a cultural level, we risk feeding a music scene that’s technically impressive but emotionally flat—where sameness reigns, innovation is stifled, and soul is sacrificed for speed and showmanship.
And the worst part? So many possibilities go unexplored. The unique riffs never written. The voices that go unheard. The healing that never gets a chance to happen.
What’s Needed
We need a different way—one that nurtures musical fluency as a form of personal expression, not just mechanical skill. A way that restores a spirit of play, and brings music back into the body.
We need to bring back improvisation as a core skill, not a niche talent. To learn music the way we learned to speak: by listening, imitating, experimenting, and expressing ourselves.
We need a kind of learning that honors the oral tradition: using the voice to internalize rhythm and melody, to “say it, then play it”—engaging the brain in the most natural, deeply wired way. Your voice is your first instrument, and it can help guide your fingers to move in ways that sound and feel right.
And perhaps most of all, we need to return to curiosity. To reframe challenges as invitations, not obstacles. To practice awareness, not just repetition. To keep asking, “What wants to happen here?”
A Soul-Centered Approach to Instrumental Music
In my teaching, the instrument is not the end goal—it’s the vessel. It’s a bridge between the creative impulse and the audible world.
Here’s what I do differently:
- Music as a language: I help you develop fluency—not just in technique, but in emotional and musical expression.
- Say it, then play it: We use your voice to teach your fingers. This deep listening and vocal engagement bypasses rote memorization and builds true musical instinct.
- Smart repetition: Using insights from both modern brain science and traditional methods, I help you build efficient muscle memory. That means practicing slowly, cleanly, and consciously—working smarter, not harder.
- Creative engagement: We turn exercises into games, and use your imagination to reinforce your learning. You might write a variation of a riff, or compose your own etude to lock in a new chord shape.
- Meta-awareness: I guide you to step outside yourself and witness your own playing—training not just your hands, but your attention. This helps you become your own best teacher over time.
- Holistic habits: We anchor rhythm in your breath and body. When frustration arises, you’ll learn to pause, reset, and reconnect: “Relax and focus. You got this.”
- Playful exploration: We rediscover the fun in playing. Not just learning someone else’s song—but creating your own.
The Ripple Effect
When your instrument becomes an extension of your creative voice, everything changes.
You stop fighting with your hands and start expressing from your heart. You don’t just play better—you play truer. Your ideas flow more easily, your ears sharpen, and your joy returns.
And the ripple effect extends beyond your practice space. When people experience creative freedom, they become better problem-solvers. They listen more deeply. They bring more of themselves to the world.
Instrumental skill, when taught with soul and purpose, becomes a path not just to better playing—but to greater presence, connection, and healing.
Want to explore what this could look like for you?
Whether you’re just getting started or coming back to your instrument with fresh eyes, I can help you reconnect with the deeper reasons you’re drawn to play—and build the skills to bring your unique voice forward.