One of the most important gifts we can give ourselves is the gift of time. Another beautiful gift is being truly present—in a way that connects our hearts, our whole bodies, our minds, our emotions, our creative spark, our spirit with something bigger that isn't separate from us at all.
The Question That Changes Everything
As musicians, we spend countless hours with our instruments, striving for technical mastery, chasing perfection, working to eliminate every flaw. But here's something I've been exploring that might shift your entire relationship with music-making: What if we gave ourselves the gift of time with our instruments in a completely different way? What if we allowed being present to matter more than what we're actually doing with the instrument?
This might sound counterintuitive at first. After all, we've been trained to focus on the outcomes—the clean runs, the perfect intonation, the flawless performances. But here's what I've discovered through years of teaching and my own practice: being present really is more important than the notes we play.
Whatever comes out of the instrument is less important than what's happening inside us in any given moment. And whether we like it or not, what's in here—in our hearts, our bodies, our whole selves—gets expressed through our playing. It will flow through us more freely or less freely depending on whether we interfere with its natural expression.
Flow Begins Within
Being in flow with your music means you first need to be in flow with yourself and the world around you. This isn't just a nice philosophical idea—it's a practical reality that affects everything from your tone quality to your ability to connect with an audience.
Whatever “being in flow with yourself” means for you, it's something worth exploring. Something to get curious about. And yes, even something to get excited about. I know I am.
In fact, when I went live on Facebook recently, I had planned to share something completely different. But when I really let go of my agenda and remembered what's truly important to me, these ideas emerged naturally. They wanted to be expressed. It's like the truth just wants to come out when we stop trying so hard to control it.
This is how it works with music too. The most powerful, moving performances often happen when we stop micromanaging every detail and allow something authentic to flow through us.
The Thoughts That Get in the Way
So what interferes with this natural flow? In a word: thought.
There are always going to be thoughts that interfere with the free-flowing expression of ourselves, our ideas, the emotions we want to convey through music. Always. It's part of being human. We think about how we sound, whether we're good enough, what the audience might think, whether we'll remember that tricky passage, if we're living up to our potential, if we're wasting our time, if we should have practiced more.
The mental chatter never really stops. And that's okay. The practice isn't about silencing all thoughts—it's about developing a different relationship with them.
My job—and yours—is to first get curious about this pattern of interference. To notice, without judgment, that I am myself, whole and complete, and I also interfere with the easy, free expression of that wholeness. I find that relationship absolutely fascinating. I hope you do too, because that fascination, that curiosity, is where transformation begins.
The Beautiful Challenge of Letting Go
Recently, I decided to put these ideas I teach to the test in my own practice—and to do it live on Facebook, in real time, with no editing and no safety net. I wanted to see what might happen if I truly embodied this approach rather than just talking about it. That meant I needed to not care so much about what came out—about whether it sounded “good” or “right” or “impressive.”
And let me tell you, that's challenging to do, especially when you know people are watching in real time. Like everyone, I find it vulnerable to really, fully, freely dare to be myself and be okay with whatever emerges. There's that voice in the back of my mind wondering what people will think, whether I'm demonstrating enough skill, whether this is “worthy” of sharing. Going live amplifies all of that because there's no chance to edit, no opportunity to try again and choose the “best” take.
But here's what I know from both personal experience and from working with countless musicians: Being curious and open to learning—maintaining that growth mindset—is absolutely essential to making art and living fully. We need that openness because we are literally made to grow and expand and shine and just be ourselves as much as we possibly can.
We're designed for growth, for expansion, for authentic expression. And when we inevitably interfere with that natural process? So what. We notice it. We come back to presence. We try again. We fall down, we get up. That's not failure—that's the practice itself. That's where the real learning happens.
What Happens When You Stay Curious
The more I teach and try to practice what I preach, the more acutely aware I become of when I'm interfering with the natural flow. It's almost like developing a new sense, a heightened awareness of those moments when tension creeps in, when I start forcing, when I leave the present moment to worry about the next phrase.
During that live Facebook video, while playing my violin with people watching in real time, I noticed something interesting. I could feel the interference happening as it was happening—that subtle tightening, that shift from allowing to controlling. But because I was improvising and staying curious, maintaining that learner's mindset rather than a performer's anxiety, I could simply play the passage again right there in the moment and see what happened.
That's why in the video, there are a few little segments I repeated. I wasn't trying to “get it right” or hide mistakes. I realized something was getting in my way, and I thought, “Well, I can explore this again. I can approach it differently.” That's the beautiful freedom of improvising, of treating your practice—and even your public sharing—as an exploration rather than a test.
This is the joy of approaching music—and life—with curiosity instead of judgment. When you're curious, “mistakes” become information. Tension becomes something interesting to explore. Challenges become invitations to learn something new about yourself. And when you're willing to do that in front of an audience, live and unedited, it becomes a powerful demonstration of what's possible when we choose presence over perfection.
Your Creative Life Force Is Waiting
This work I do with musicians is fundamentally about learning how to be yourself, to be okay with whatever you're experiencing in the moment, and to tap into something deeply heartfelt and authentic. It's about connecting with your creative life force—that wellspring of artistry that exists inside you, outside you, all around you.
This creative force is completely natural, as organic as breathing, and yet it's also beyond anything we could possibly understand because it's that mysterious creative spark, that spirit that animates everything, that makes the world go round. Some people call it different things—inspiration, the muse, divine creativity, flow state, the zone. The name doesn't matter as much as the experience of it.
When we learn to get out of the way—when we stop interfering with what wants to naturally express itself through us—that creative freedom flows through us and through our music in a way that feels easy and joyful. It allows for endless experimentation, genuine fun, continuous growth, and deep connection. Real, authentic connection—first with yourself in a loving, accepting way, and then with the audience, with other musicians, with the world around us.
This is what people respond to in great performances. It's not technical perfection—it's that sense of genuine human presence, of someone daring to be fully themselves in the moment.
Why This Matters Now
I feel so strongly that the world needs this kind of authentic expression right now. We need real connection, genuine vulnerability, people willing to show up as themselves. The world doesn't need more perfect performances—it needs more truthful ones.
I know I need this practice in my life. And honestly, I don't know anyone who doesn't benefit from learning to be more present, more authentic, more connected to their creative essence.
If you're sensing that this approach might support you in your life and help you in your pursuit of musical excellence—whether you're a performer working to overcome stage fright and physical tension, a teacher wanting to model ease and presence for your students, or an enthusiast who's passionate about music and its deeper meaning and your purpose in life—I'd love to connect with you.
This is what I do. This is what I genuinely love to do. And I would be honored to support you on your journey toward greater freedom, ease, and authentic expression.
An Invitation to Go Deeper
I'm opening the doors to The Sanctuary for Musicians: The Whole Artist's Mastery Experience this Wednesday. It's an eight-month transformational program specifically designed for professional musicians who are ready to fundamentally change their relationship with themselves and their music.
This isn't about learning new techniques or practicing harder. It's about discovering what becomes possible when you stop struggling and start flowing. When you make being present more important than playing perfectly. When you learn to work with your whole self—mind, body, and spirit—rather than just isolated technical problems.
If you're curious and want to know more about how this program works and whether it might be right for you, send me a private message or leave a comment below. I'd love to have a conversation about your musical journey and explore how this work might support you.
Not a professional musician? I have other programs and ways we can work together, so please reach out. Whatever stage you're at in your musical journey, there's a path forward that honors your wholeness and supports your growth.
Ready to Explore What's Possible?
The musicians I work with often tell me they wish they'd found this approach years ago. They describe finally feeling free with their instruments, discovering ease they didn't know was possible, connecting with their audiences in new ways, and—perhaps most importantly—falling in love with music-making all over again.
That's what becomes available when you stop fighting yourself and start working with your natural design. When you honor the truth that being present matters more than playing perfectly.
If any of this resonates with you, let's have a conversation. I'd love to hear about your experience as a musician and explore what might be possible for you.
I'd love to hear your thoughts on this approach to music-making. What's your relationship with being present versus playing perfectly? Share in the comments below—I read and respond to every one.

Are you curious to try a more holistic approach to music-making so you can break through to the next level on your artistic journey with ease?