And why this might be the best advice you’ll ever hear.
“How many hours do you practice every day?”
I love asking this question to musicians. Part curiosity, part admiration – and part hope that their answers will reveal something I haven’t unlocked yet.
This year, three answers stayed with me.
Isabel’s Six Hours a Day
At a conductor’s workshop in Los Angeles, I met Isabel – a college violinist who brilliantly performed the first movement of Beethoven’s Violin Concerto entirely from memory. A difficult, twenty-minute piece.
She told me she practiced about six hours a day, starting at 7 a.m.
During her solo passages, when the orchestra wasn’t playing, I sat in the brass section (trumpets don’t play as much) just watching her – imagining the work it took for her to stand there at that level, that young, that prepared.
The Polish Flutist Who Practiced “Until I Get It”
Earlier this year, in Colombia, I played in an international orchestra for a large church event. We all stayed together for a week at a beautiful mountain location, rehearsing every day — sometimes in sections, sometimes the whole orchestra, sometimes with the choir. Most nights, the last rehearsal ended around 10 p.m.
But every evening, a young man practiced his flute outside the dorms until up to 1 a.m. I was impressed with his efforts, discipline and dedication. But he wasn’t the principal flutist.
The principal was Oliwia, a Polish musician I never once saw practicing alone. She didn’t need to. She had already done the work; now she was there to help the others.
When I asked how many hours she used to practiced every day back home, she thought for a moment and answered:
“Until I get it.”
I loved that. Not a number. Not a rule. A commitment.
My Daughter, Simplifying Everything
My 13-year-old daughter Alice, who also plays the flute very well, often practices the same way — repeating something until she gets it right. I love hearing her practicing.
One day she told me about her band class in school.
“How many times are you practicing this at home? You need to play it thirty forty times!” her teacher told the class, trying to motivate them for the upcoming concert.
“Well… until I get it,” one student said, and the teacher nodded.
Later, Alice told me:
“Some people get things faster than others. It doesn’t matter if it takes ten minutes or three days. We just have to practice until we get it.”
How perfectly simple is that?
Do we really want it?
We all say we want to improve – in music, writing, fitness, photography, cooking, anything.
But do we want it enough to repeat something a hundred times? To practice without applause? To go slowly when everyone else seems fast? To stay with something long enough for it to grow?
I recently returned to Medium after a long break. Writing was my first passion; music came right after. Both are rusty.
My challenge for 2026 is simple: practice until I get it.
Art isn’t magic or talent or sudden inspiration. It’s dedication, repetition, patience – and the willingness to keep showing up.
Isabel showed me what discipline looks like on paper; Oliwia and my daughter showed me what commitment feels like in the real world. And together, they taught me the same lesson: progress belong to the ones who stay long enough to grow.
So what do you want to get good at this year? Whatever it is, practice until you get it. Not perfectly. Not quickly. Not impressively. Just… until you get it.
