January 22, 2026
About the Author: Stefan Joubert
There comes a quiet moment in every guitarist’s journey when progress seems to slow to a crawl.
The fingers still move. The chords still ring out.
The guitar still feels familiar in the hands.
And yet, something is missing.
The spark that once made every practise session feel like discovery has dimmed, replaced by repetition and a low hum of frustration.
At first, it is easy to ignore. Surely it is just a bad week.
Perhaps the strings are old, or the room is too noisy, or the mind is tired.
But days turn into weeks, and the same shapes appear under the fingers. The same riffs. The same habits. The same mistakes.
The guitar has not become harder; it has become predictable.
This is often where growth quietly stalls — not because of a lack of talent, but because comfort has taken over without asking permission.
Recognising the Plateau for What It Is
A plateau is not failure.
It is a sign that foundational skills have settled in.
Muscle memory is doing its job.
The hands know what to do without conscious thought.
Ironically, this ease can be exactly what slows progress.
When playing becomes automatic, curiosity fades.
The first step out of the plateau is recognising it and resisting the urge to question ability.
Plateaus do not mean someone is “not good enough”. They simply mean the current approach has reached its limit.
From here, growth requires a little discomfort.
Changing the Way Practise Feels
One evening, the familiar routine begins again: warm-ups, a favourite scale, a well-worn song.
Halfway through, it becomes clear that nothing new is happening.
This is the moment to pause — not for the night, but for the habit itself.
Breaking a plateau often starts by changing how practise feels rather than how long it lasts.
Slowing everything down can be unexpectedly revealing.
Playing a simple scale at an almost uncomfortably slow tempo exposes weaknesses that speed once concealed.
Notes buzz. Timing wavers. Fingers hesitate. These moments are not failures; they are information.
Shifting from endurance to intention can be transformative.
Ten focused minutes spent addressing a specific problem can be more effective than an hour of unfocused repetition.
The question changes from “Can I play this?” to “Why does this not sound the way I want it to?”.
Learning Something That Feels Uncomfortable
There is a familiar resistance that appears when stepping outside comfort.
Jazz chords that feel unnatural.
Fingerstyle patterns that refuse to settle.
A genre that has always felt just out of reach.
That resistance is often the doorway out of the plateau.
Exploring unfamiliar styles forces the hands and ears to work in new ways.
A rock guitarist discovering blues phrasing begins to think about space and nuance.
A classical player exploring pop confronts groove and rhythmic feel.
These shifts wake the brain up.
Even revisiting fundamentals through a different lens can help.
A scale becomes something else entirely when used to shape melody.
A chord gains depth when its emotional colour is explored rather than simply held.
Listening Differently
During a plateau, many players practise more but listen less.
The guitar becomes something to control rather than something to respond to.
Deep listening — to recordings, to other musicians, and especially to one’s own playing — can be quietly powerful.
Recording a practise session and listening back often reveals patterns that were invisible in the moment: rushed phrases, uneven dynamics, habitual choices.
These discoveries may be uncomfortable, but they offer direction.
Inspiration does not always come from other guitarists.
A piano line, a vocal melody, or a rhythmic idea can all suggest new ways of approaching the instrument.
Letting Go of Perfection
Another hidden trap of the plateau is the pressure to sound good all the time.
When every note is judged, experimentation feels risky.
But progress rarely lives in polished moments.
Allowing imperfect playing — wrong notes, loose timing, unfinished ideas — creates space for creativity.
Improvising without expectation, writing something intentionally simple, or playing without a plan can reconnect the guitarist to curiosity rather than performance.
The guitar does not need to be impressed. It needs to be explored.
Stepping Away to Move Forward
Sometimes, the most productive choice is to put the guitar down for a short while.
A brief pause can reset both ears and hands, especially when frustration has crept in unnoticed.
During that time, listening actively, thinking about music, or simply resting can make returning to the instrument feel surprisingly fresh.
When the guitar is picked up again, old patterns often feel less rigid.
New ideas slip in quietly.
The Plateau as a Turning Point
Progress eventually returns — not as a dramatic leap, but as subtle, meaningful changes.
Cleaner transitions. A more confident tone. Greater expressive control.
The plateau does not disappear so much as dissolve, revealing a deeper level of musicianship beneath it.
Every guitarist encounters this moment, often more than once.
Those who continue growing are not the ones who avoid plateaus, but the ones who learn to listen to them.
Because sometimes, the plateau is not a wall at all.
It is a signpost pointing towards the next chapter.
How the London Guitar Institute Can Help
At the London Guitar Institute, we work with many guitarists who arrive at exactly this moment — capable, committed, but quietly stuck.
Our teachers specialise in helping players identify what is holding them back, reshape their practise with purpose, and reconnect with meaningful musical progress.
Whether you are returning to the guitar after years away or looking to move beyond a long-standing plateau, guided, thoughtful instruction can make all the difference.
Sometimes, all it takes is the right perspective to move forward again.
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