The Talent Trap: How I Learned to Choose My Development Areas and Be OK with Boring Practice Routines
Rockstars make us think they were born to do it
We don’t pay good money to watch our favorite artists or athletic heroes practice.
We assume they’ve logged their 10,000 hours behind the scenes, or maybe they’re just naturally more “talented” or “gifted” than the rest of us. If you asked them, though, they’d probably tell you a different story. Sure, some things might come more easily to certain people, but mastery still comes down to hard work.
As I’ve started writing songs at 50 and returned to playing piano in earnest, I’ve learned that you need to fall in love with your practice time.
For me, it’s about adopting a mindset of getting 1% better each day. That idea comes from James Clear’s Atomic Habits. If you improve just 1% daily, you’ll be over 37% better in a year. That’s a wild statistic, and it motivates me to stay committed to what I call my big three practice goals:
Go slowly.
Do the same thing nearly every day until it’s mastered.
No, seriously—go slower than you think you need to.
It’s not about rushing to the finish line. Going slowly gives your brain the space to truly absorb what you’re working on.
Does this sound boring? I get it. It can feel like a grind sometimes! But that’s where the magic happens. To keep going, short bursts of focus and regular breaks are key. And when it gets tough, I remind myself that I’m playing the long game.
If you improve just 1% daily, you’ll be over 37% better in a year.
Practicing slowly makes us faster much faster than practicing too fast!
The Big Question: What Should I Practice?
For a lot of musicians, this is the nagging question. How do you decide what to practice and how to develop next?
What strengths do I want to highlight?
What weaknesses should I focus on?
How can I make sure I’m not wasting my precious practice time?
I often feel a little lost before I get started. There are so many things I want to improve, and my appetite for new skills seems endless. Sometimes, it’s overwhelming—like trying to drink from a firehose.
That’s where advice from one of my drumming heroes, Stanton Moore, helped me reframe everything.
Practicing Anything = Practicing Everything
This idea hit me hard when Stanton first said it to me: Practicing anything is practicing everything. If this is obvious to you, you don’t need this lesson. But for me, it was a revelation.
I realized that I didn’t need to fill my practice routine with new information or dozens of exercises. I could focus on just one thing, and everything else would improve. By spending time on my rudimental technique—slowly and methodically—I was actually improving all areas of my drumming.
Stanton Moore
It felt overly simplistic at first, but I’ve come to understand that time spent in the dojo is time spent on your craft. Every moment you dedicate to your practice, even in repetitive drills, is an investment in your overall growth.
Boredom Is a Virtue
Earlier this year, Stanton suggested that I clean up my rudiments. It wasn’t an exciting prospect, but I trusted his guidance. He gave me a boring routine and told me to play it 2-3 times a day, every day.
After a month, I sent him a video of my progress. His response? "Great! Now play it at half the speed."
Cue the Mr. Miyagi moment.
Mr. Miyagi would say go slower to learn faster
I thought I had nailed it. I couldn’t believe he wanted me to go even slower. But Stanton explained, "There’s so much power in slow-motion practice. It allows you to focus on the smallest details of every movement. When you return to full speed, it will feel effortless."
So, I gave it a shot. The first day was rough. It was almost painful to play so slow, and I could barely feel the groove. But by day three, something shifted. I started noticing the details in my hands that I hadn’t seen since I was a beginner. Old habits I thought were long gone became noticeable, and correctable, at such a slow pace.
I’ll be honest: it was discouraging at first. I thought, "This is going to take forever!" But it didn’t. By the time I worked my way back up to 75% of the original tempo, my hands looked and felt completely different. The progress was obvious.
What I Learned:
Fall in love with playing slow. You’ll learn what’s really happening in your technique.
Lean into boredom. The small, slow gains build up.
Every stroke you improve helps everything else you play.
I’m grateful to Stanton for his patience and ability to zero in on exactly what his students need—even through email. Speaking of patience, let’s talk about something that’s crucial in any pursuit: time.
Time Horizons
Gary Keller and Jay Papasan put it best in their book, The One Thing:
"When you see someone with a lot of knowledge, they learned it over time. When you see someone with a lot of skills, they developed them over time. When you see someone who has done a lot, they accomplished it over time. When you see someone who has a lot of money, they earned it over time. The key is over time. Success is built sequentially—one thing at a time."
Mastery isn’t something you get overnight. It’s built, one small step at a time. And the best way to stay on that path is to embrace the boring practice routines, knowing they’re the foundation for everything you want to achieve.
