Why I Stopped Teaching (and What I Chose Instead)

There was a time when teaching formed a central part of my musical life. I worked closely with students, guiding them, encouraging them, and helping them develop both technically and musically. It was meaningful work, and I took it seriously. Watching someone grow in confidence and ability, and seeing them connect more deeply with music, is something that will always be rewarding.

But over time, something began to change. It was not a sudden decision or a dramatic turning point, but rather a gradual shift in direction that became impossible to ignore. I started to feel that while teaching required me to give my energy outward, there was an increasing need within me to turn inward and create.

The difference between teaching and creating is profound. Teaching is structured and outward facing. It involves explanation, demonstration, repetition, and a clear responsibility to someone else’s progress. Creation, by contrast, is deeply personal. It is instinctive, exploratory, and often unpredictable. It is driven not by obligation, but by curiosity and the desire to bring something new into existence.

As this shift became more apparent, I found myself at a crossroads. I could continue to divide my time and energy between these two paths, or I could fully commit to the one that felt most aligned with who I was becoming. The answer, when I allowed myself to be honest, was clear.

I chose creation.

This was not a rejection of teaching, nor a dismissal of its value. It was simply an acknowledgement that my role had changed. I no longer felt called to explain music in the way I once did. Instead, I felt compelled to express it.

There is also a practical reality that cannot be ignored. Teaching comes with structure and obligation. Lessons must be scheduled, prepared, and delivered consistently. There is a rhythm to it that demands reliability and routine. While this suits many people perfectly, I began to realise that it no longer suited the way I wanted to work.

Creating music does not follow a timetable. Inspiration does not arrive on command, and meaningful work often requires long, uninterrupted periods of focus. To compose at the level I wanted, and to explore ideas fully, I needed a different kind of freedom. Not the absence of discipline, but the absence of fragmentation.

That freedom has allowed me to reconnect with music in a much deeper way. It has brought me back to the reason I began this journey in the first place, which was not to teach music, but to live it, shape it, and share it.

Today, my work is centred entirely around composing and performing my own music. That is where I feel most aligned, and where I believe I can offer something truly personal. In many ways, I have not stopped giving at all. I have simply changed the form it takes. Instead of lessons, I offer music itself. Instead of instruction, I offer an experience.

For those who have followed my journey over the years, this is the most honest expression of where I now stand. It is not a departure from what came before, but a continuation in a different direction.

And for me, it feels exactly right.