Sunday evening, nine days before an audition. You sit down to plan the week. Excerpts by day, slow work in the morning, a run-through on Thursday, a recording on Saturday. Colours for each kind of practice. You redo it twice because Tuesday looked too light. By eleven o'clock it is perfect, and for the first time all day you feel in control.

On Monday you practise forty minutes less than planned. On Tuesday the plan is already behind, so you rewrite Wednesday and Thursday. By Saturday, the beautiful plan has become a precise record of everything you did not do.

The critic you expect, and the one you have

When musicians talk about the inner critic, they usually mean the voice that says you are not good enough. That one is easy to spot. It is loud and unkind, and at least you know it is not on your side.

The more common one is helpful. It is organised, tireless and extremely well informed. It does not attack your playing. It improves your preparation. A better fingering. A comparison of three editions. One more recording to check the tempo. The ideal order for the excerpts. The perfect warm-up. Every task sounds like diligence, and that is exactly why it is so hard to catch.

We usually describe perfectionism as standards that are too high. This is a quieter branch of it. The standard is not aimed at your playing. It is aimed at the conditions for playing, and conditions can always be improved.

How optimising turns into practising less

A plan is a place where nothing can go wrong. Playing is where things go wrong. A critic whose real job is to keep you from being found lacking will always prefer the plan.

So the more refined the plan, the higher the threshold for starting, and the smaller the practice that actually happens. Then the critic changes costume. Having kept you out of the practice room, it now judges you for not following the plan. You end up as both the person who failed and the person who designed the failure.

The same voice that can keep you in the room for six anxious hours can also keep you out of it, because more practice and less preparation are often the same fear wearing different clothes.

Where the planner comes from

For many musicians the planner rests on a belief formed long before the first audition: that to be worth something, you have to work extremely hard and be extraordinary. Under that belief, forty adequate minutes on a Tuesday feel like evidence against you. A perfect plan, on the other hand, promises the extraordinary week that will finally prove you are enough.

That is why the planner feels so good to obey. It offers relief from the ordinary. And it is why so much of what it produces is practice that is really about feeling safe rather than about getting better.

What it costs you

The obvious cost is lost hours. The less obvious costs are bigger.

You arrive at the audition having prepared the preparation. You live with a constant feeling of being behind, even in weeks when you worked hard. And you rarely collect the experience that matters most before an audition: imperfect practice that holds up anyway. An audition is not a perfect week. It is a single imperfect morning. The planner never lets you rehearse that.

How to recognise it

None of this means planning is bad. It means planning can become control dressed up as preparation. A few signs worth watching for:

• The ratio. Compare, honestly, the time this week spent deciding how to practise with the time spent practising.

• The relief. Notice the calm you feel when the plan is finished. That calm is the critic being satisfied, not you being ready.

• The condition. Listen for sentences that start with "I'll begin once". Once I've found the right edition. Once I've heard two more recordings. Once the week is properly organised.

• The double verdict. If you feel guilty both when you plan and when you don't follow the plan, the same voice is running both.

Safe is not the same as ready

Your inner critic is not lazy and it is not your enemy. It works harder than anyone you know, and it is trying, in its own way, to protect you. But it is protecting you from being seen as ordinary, and auditions are won by players who are willing to be seen at all.

A good-enough plan that you actually use will take you further than a perfect plan rewritten every Sunday.

Frequently asked questions

What is an inner critic for a musician? It is the internal voice that evaluates your playing and your preparation. It can be openly harsh, or it can sound helpful and organised while still being driven by fear of not being good enough.

Why do I make practice plans I never follow? Often because planning gives the feeling of control without the risk of playing. A plan built to be perfect sets a starting threshold that ordinary days cannot meet.

Is planning practice before an audition a bad idea? No. A clear, simple plan helps. The warning sign is when you spend more energy perfecting the plan than using it, or when the plan becomes the measure you fail against.