Music Lessons
Some people walk into their first therapy session with the wrong mental model.
They arrive thinking they're meeting with a doctor who will diagnose their condition and prescribe the cure. Or perhaps a lawyer who will advocate for their position and resolve their dispute. Maybe even a financial advisor who will examine their situation and recommend the optimal solution.
Then they leave disappointed when transformation doesn't happen in fifty minutes.
They've made a category error.
The truth I've discovered is both simpler and harder: the client has to do the work.
The Misunderstanding
We live in an outsourcing culture. We pay specialists to handle our challenges, solve our problems, and give us answers. This approach works brilliantly for fixing your plumbing, preparing your taxes, or repairing your car.
It fails spectacularly when applied to your inner life.
Many clients arrive with this mindset:
Present the problem
Get professional analysis
Receive the solution
Implement the answer
Move on
But the human psyche isn't a broken appliance. And therapy isn't a repair service.
The Music Lesson Model
What if, instead, we thought about therapy the way we think about learning to play an instrument?
No reasonable person walks into their first piano lesson expecting to play Chopin by the end of the hour. They understand they're beginning a journey that requires:
Regular instruction from someone who understands the fundamentals
Gradual building of skills through practice and repetition
Consistent effort between lessons
Patience with initial awkwardness and mistakes
The understanding that the teacher cannot play the music for you
Yet many approach therapy as if emotional well-being should be handed to them in a takeaway container, ready to consume.
The Three Movements of Therapeutic Change
When we embrace the music lesson model, therapy becomes a skill-building practice with three essential movements:
First Movement: Understanding Your Composition
You begin by exploring how your life experiences and environment have shaped your psychological approach. Like learning basic music theory and finger positions, this foundational work feels academic but creates the structure for everything that follows.
This isn't about collecting neat insights to display at dinner parties. It's about establishing the core understanding that makes meaningful change possible.
Second Movement: Recognizing Your Patterns
With guidance from your therapist, you learn to identify your triggers and adjust your reactions. This is like practicing scales and simple pieces, developing the muscle memory that makes more complex playing possible.
You notice when you're slipping into old habits. You catch yourself before the familiar cascade of reactions. You experiment with new responses.
Third Movement: Daily Practice
This is where everything changes - and where most people fall short. Between sessions, you deliberately apply what you've learned in real-world situations. Like a music student practicing scales and études between lessons, you strengthen neural pathways through repetition and application.
Your therapist isn't there to witness this critical work. They can't do it for you. The transformation happens in ordinary moments when you choose a different response than the one programmed by your past.
The Choice Before You
When you understand this framework, you face a fundamental choice about how to approach your mental health:
You can seek the easy fix - attend sessions sporadically, nod at insights without implementing them, and essentially listen to someone else play the music while hoping it somehow becomes yours.
Or you can commit to the practice. Show up consistently, do the uncomfortable work of self-examination, and deliberately apply new patterns between sessions. This approach requires more from you, but creates something that actually belongs to you - the ability to play your own song.
Why We Resist the Work
If the path forward is so clear, why do so many resist it?
Because practice is hard. It's easier to complain about our struggles than to face them directly. It's more comfortable to blame circumstances than to take responsibility for our responses. It's less vulnerable to intellectualize our issues than to feel them fully and work through them.
And yet, the people who make remarkable progress in therapy aren't necessarily the most insightful or psychologically sophisticated. They're simply the ones who commit to the practice.
The Therapist's Role
If clients must do the work, what exactly is the therapist contributing?
We aren't there to play the music for you. We're there to:
Provide a structured environment for learning
Offer technical guidance informed by experience and training
Notice patterns you might miss
Ask questions that lead to useful discoveries
Provide accountability and support
Celebrate progress that you might overlook
But we can't practice for you. We can't live your life between sessions. We can't create new neural pathways in your brain. That part belongs to you alone.
The Paradox of Therapeutic Progress
Here's the beautiful contradiction at the heart of effective therapy: The more ownership you take of your growth, the more valuable your therapist becomes.
When you commit to the practice, suddenly your therapist's observations become transformative instead of merely interesting. Their questions catalyze breakthroughs rather than intellectual exercises. The therapeutic relationship deepens into something that amplifies your efforts rather than substituting for them.
A Final Note
The realization that clients must do their own work isn't a disclaimer or a way for therapists to avoid responsibility. It's the central truth that makes transformation possible.
Because when you finally play your own song - one note at a time, with increasing confidence and skill - you create something that no one else could have created for you. Something authentic, lasting, and truly yours.
And that's worth all the practice in the world.
