Music is nothing without context.
Let’s assume for a moment that Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong and Oscar Peterson are all alive, and let’s now say you give them prime billing in Lola Montez (local niteclub) on a pre-pandemic Saturday night, the chances are that even this much-vaunted trio will bomb.
Because what this particular crowd are expecting is chart hits pumped out at high volume, not jazz. Not even some of the best jazz that has ever existed.
Put them in the local theatre, however, and the chances are that the gig will be sold out months in advance, and you would hear a pin drop while they were performing.
When it comes to practising (so as you can be as good as Oscar Peterson (!)), similar rules apply.
You need to remember the context of your practice.
If it’s so as you can perform something professionally, well then you need to be able to play it without mistakes. Repeatedly.
If it’s so you can accompany someone at a sing-song, well then you can afford a few mistakes as long as you catch up. So your practice can reflect this.
And if it’s so you can play yourself, for yourself, in your own time, well then you get to set the context.
And while this context can of course change, it’s worth thinking about it each time you sit down.