Something that took me a few decades to learn about playing music is that there's no one way to do it. There's also no one reason to do it.

On one end of the spectrum, music can have this perception of being something that "comes from the heart". Images of La Bohème come to mind, the artist that wears their emotions on their sleeves, the ever-romantic. They play what they feel. And yes, that's a part of musicing. I even quite like that part of it! But that's not the only part.

On another end, you can imagine a discipline-driven approach to music. Think child prodigies, the movie Whiplash, or any experience you may have had as a school band student where the aim was to ace your state marching contest. There are some benefits to this approach to music for some people. Personalities with that competitive spirit and skill-acquisition-for-the-sake-of-skill-acquisition can lead with this. I'll admit to having spent a great deal of time driven this way.

Here's one that sits neatly in the middle of the two: music as a puzzle.

Pick your favorite analogy: sudoku, crosswords, knitting, solitaire, wordle. Mine is Pushmo: A Nintendo handheld game where you play as a little guy trying to solve spacial puzzles to reach the top of a structure. The pieces are often shaped like cute Mario characters.

I got to thinking about this while watching my mom work on Jigsaw puzzles during a visit. After I had practiced piano, I started to notice similarities:

• There's a set of rules that requires more than purely logical reasoning. It's often spatial or even economy of movement.
• It's low intensity. Many of us spend our days on problems that require loads of thinking. These are typically great compliments since they keep us moving intellectually, but with a different part of the brain.
• It's often repetitive. One puzzle piece after another. One measure at a time.
• It's cozy. Great to do in the evenings before bed.
• The end result is something beautiful or satisfying, though most of the enjoyment comes from working out the solution, not having it.

I like highlighting this because it takes the pressure off of playing an instrument — needing it to be for some grand purpose. You can simply enjoy doing it!

I see too much advice either in the vein of "You show up in the practice room whether you feel like it or not!" or "Just follow your heart!" The truth is, sometimes I truly don't feel like it, and sometimes my heart is not particularly jazzed about anything on a given day.

But I am regularly curious about solving that puzzle of sound, motion, and phrasing.