I have been thinking about lessons a lot lately. No more so than today. My older sister has been sick, and I have taken on the weekly task of driving our niece Emma to her violin lesson.

When I have listened to Emma at her lessons these past few weeks, I have been in awe. Yes, she sounds nothing like the four year-old girl who first picked up a quarter midget sized violin twelve years ago and, thanks to Mr. Suzuki, learned how to bow with coarse strokes and the aid of memorized nursery rhymes. Not only do the sounds that come out of her violin these days sound like music, it is obvious that the music is deeply felt. The music she makes is sublime.

The other week, Emma confessed to me, “I don’t always like to practice. But I love my lessons.” All I can think of, as a way to explain this passion, is that during her lessons Emma’s teacher engages her in ways that help her develop her awareness. Her teacher, Holly, will ask her questions like: How does that sound to you? What do you think the fingering for that arpeggio should be? Do you think you’re putting too much pressure on the strings? What do you think you need to practice on this week? Mixed in with tips for improvement, she’ll make comments like, That sounds much better than it did two weeks ago, or I can tell you’ve been practicing that.

When trying to respond to such thoughtful questions, Emma seems to search for the right words to describe the subtle qualities she’s noticed in her own playing. She’ll say things like “It feels awkward when I do it that way,” or “I can get it right when I go slow, but not when I bring it up tempo.” And, in an ongoing discussion with her teacher, or with herself, she hits on adjustments to try.

In observing Emma’s Wednesday afternoon one-on-one today, I saw the lesson in all lessons; to look at the result you just got and ask: What do I want to do more of or less of next time? How can I make this better? How can I make my experience easier? How can I acknowledge my mastery in this instance and chart out a new learning objective? For Emma, this might be about moving from Schubert to Mendelssohn to Bruck.

I loved sitting in on Emma’s violin lesson today. It felt good to think of progress, in any pursuit, as the natural outcome of practice with conscious awareness and support.

Remembering that anybody’s lesson is everybody’s lesson is no small thing.