The Cost of Being ‘Professional’: Relearning Joy After 200 Concerts a Year

* This story is shared with care. To respect the client’s privacy, some details have been changed. The essence of their experience and the outcomes remain true.

When she first came to me, she was already a success by most standards:

A French horn player in her mid-30s performing with a major orchestra, delivering over 200 concerts a year.

(Yes, you read that right — over 200. I know, my jaw was on the floor too.)

But even from that place of achievement, something vital had gone quiet:

She no longer enjoyed music.

Despite her outward success, she felt disconnected from the very thing that had once lit her up.

And she was preparing for two important auditions:

One for a prestigious commercial TV orchestra, and another for an even larger city’s top ensemble.

Clearly, she was deeply committed — she had already tried mental performance coaching and had a disciplined mindfulness practice — but she sensed there was more available to her.

More freedom. More artistry. More joy.

A True Professional Ready for More

From our first session, I saw how deeply pragmatic, thoughtful, and dedicated she was.

She came in not looking for surface-level tweaks, but with a clear intent to evolve — not just as a performer, but as a whole artist.

Her commitment between sessions was unwavering, and her ability to apply new tools with curiosity and focus was remarkable.

She was that client—the one who does the homework, tracks the patterns, shows up ready to go.

And yet, her biggest challenge wasn’t technical… she was already an exceptional musician.

What she wanted — and what had been eluding her — was a deeper ease in performance and a reconnection with her joy.

Unlearning the Pressure

We began by refining her mindfulness practice, adding in self-compassion work and pre-performance routines to soften the internal pressure she had long carried.

She had absorbed a deep message from her early training:

To be a “serious” musician meant letting go of play.

No fun, no freedom, no mistakes.

(Ummm… no thanks.)

Together, we worked to undo that conditioning.

We brought intentionality into her practice sessions — transforming what had become habitual and rigid into something curious and engaged.

Instead of just playing through the repertoire, we shifted her approach:

What would she want to hear if she were on the jury?

What would an ideal future colleague sound like?

That clicked something into place immediately.

We also explored what it meant to play music without the “work” label.

She found a piece she could simply enjoy at the end of practice, and almost instantly she wrote to me:

“I’m playing an old favourite and I started enjoying it already."

That one moment marked the beginning of her transformation.

Building Resilience and Redefining Success

Despite her packed schedule — performing, teaching, preparing for auditions — we made space for recovery.

Like so many high-performing millennials (raises hand), she was used to overworking and lowkey glorifying burnout.

Learning to take intentional breaks wasn’t easy — it went against everything she’d been taught.

But it was essential.

We added physical simulations of performance nerves into her audition prep, and even created an alter ego to help her reconnect with courage and pleasure.

A ring became her physical anchor — a small reminder of the freedom she was reclaiming.

In her own words after one audition:

“I wasn’t stressed by the situation but excited, like when you go to your first day of school… I could play with sound, colours, and dynamics. I took a few risks, and it went quite well.”

Not Just Playing Well — Playing With Joy

Okay, yes — it might sound a bit anticlimactic to say she didn’t get either of the full-time roles...

(Though she did make it to the final round of one and became the jury’s top pick for substitute!)

But that’s not the result I care about most.

The real win, for her AND me?

How she felt while playing.

After one concert she wrote:

“I made eye contact with some of my colleagues while playing, and it was obvious we were having fun. Even our conductor started smiling because it was so enjoyable. I made two tiny slips, but I wasn’t bothered. I refocused instead of panicking. That was a huge achievement for me.”

And that, to me, was the transformation.

From someone who had been taught to take music seriously at the cost of her spirit...

To someone who could once again laugh, risk, play, and connect — on stage and off.

"Our work has been a complete game-changer! I am more focused and effective in the practice room and on stage. I can handle pressure much more easily, and I feel my performances have reached a higher level. Now I'm enjoying performing as much as I did before becoming a professional!”