The Ukulele Effect: How Small Steps Build Confidence

The Ukulele Effect: How Small Steps Build Confidence
“Practice isn’t the thing you do once you’re good. It’s the thing you do that makes you good.” — Malcolm Gladwell

One of my goals for 2025 was to finally learn to play a musical instrument. When I was a young teen, I would pretend to be a big rock star, playing alone in my room, riffing away at the air to System of a Down blasting through my headphones, being the front man to my own childhood dreams of fame.

When settling on my goal, I was initially drawn to the enchanting sounds of the violin, and the complexity of the instrument felt like a challenge I was ready to tackle. My wife, who had images of terrible, screeching violin sounds in her mind, wisely suggested an alternative: the ukulele—a small, approachable instrument that promised an easier way to get comfortable with instruments, without the overwhelming intimidation that a violin very likely would have brought up.

During a leisurely holiday in Jeffreys Bay at the beginning of the year, we stumbled across a ukulele in a surfer's merch store. It was simple and inviting. After a moment’s hesitation, a part of me still hanging on to images of my imaginary solo concerto, I decided to listen to my wife and get the ukulele instead.

Back home, I kept the ukulele in my office, hopeful that its constant presence would encourage me to play. Yet, for a full week, it sat next to me, alone and silent. I would occasionally pick it up, strum a few notes, quickly feel lost and put it back down again. My inner voice reared its head, whispering in the corners of my mind, reminding me that I would never be good at this. Who was I kidding? I may as well give up.

Reflecting on that week, I was reminded of Lao Tzu's famous quote: The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. It could easily be argued that confidence is the quiet force behind every achievement. It fuels our dreams and gently nudges us toward action, reminding us that we are more capable than we might initially believe. Yet, confidence isn't something we're born with; it's cultivated, nurtured by action—by stepping forward even when the path feels uncertain, even when our inner voice tells us that we should stop trying.

One evening, determined to uncover the mystery of the strings and recognising that randomly strumming was not going to get me anywhere, I turned to YouTube. Watching tutorials, I understood that mastering this instrument was going to be a gradual journey. I wasn't going to become Israel Kamakawiwo’ole overnight, and this was OK. Inspired, I began practicing a simple tune, getting comfortable with the way the strings felt under my fingers. When the notes transformed from random sounds to a recognisable melody, I felt like a hidden door unlocked inside me. I played during idle moments in my life, times when I would normally scroll on my phone. These brief interactions made the unfamiliar familiar, dissolving my fears one note at a time.

Within weeks, something remarkable happened. What began as timid plucking evolved into comfortable strumming, and the ukulele became a source of joy to me rather than anxiety. Now, with increasing confidence, I'm exploring pieces like The Last of Us theme song, and a variation of The Bannered Mare from the Skyrim soundtrack. Imperfection no longer intimidates me; it reminds me that I'm growing and serves as a sign that I need to keep working.

Looking back, I recognise that my initial hesitation was a natural part of the learning process—an essential step toward growth. When we first come across something new, we know nothing about it, and it seems overwhelming. Confidence in my ukulele skills wasn't something I found overnight; it emerged quietly through consistent, intentional action. By keeping the instrument easily accessible and integrating it into my daily life, I removed barriers and created a frictionless path to growth, which has not only improved my playing but has brought greater mindfulness and satisfaction to my day. Had I selected the violin, its complexity might have discouraged me, preventing the beautiful discoveries I’ve enjoyed so far.

Reflecting on your own journey, dear reader, consider this: What dreams are you delaying because they seem overwhelming? How can you reduce friction to make the learning process easier? Remember, every confident step begins with action—no matter how small. Place your goals within easy reach, integrate them into your daily life, and watch your confidence blossom naturally.

Take that first step today. After all, confidence isn't something you wait for—it's something you build.

Until next week,

Ric.