The day I learned what fear really is, I was holding a trumpet.
It was high school jazz band, and we had this moment in one of our competition songs where the trumpet section would hit this fat high note in unison.
It wasn't even in my part. But my ego was so big, I played it anyway.
Well, competition day arrived, and I wasn't feeling right. I had cut my lip a few days before playing in the pep band and probably shouldn't have been playing at all.
Not that I'd ever admit that weakness.
The Moment Everything Went Wrong
The moment came, and I went for it with everything I had.
I missed. Big and loud. Sooo loud. Soooo wrong.
But that wasn't even the worst part.
The very next song, I was playing lead on this beautiful sweeping ballad—Polka Dots and Moonbeams. The trumpet part sat on top like silk over the entire ensemble. It was hard for me on a good day.
But that day was not a good day.
What followed was 24 bars of screeched, cracked, split notes that made that big fat loud wrong note like the sweetest Mozart symphony.
We got a 2. It was my fault.
If not for my onstage meltdown, we would have had a 1 for sure. Everyone knew it. Most were kind enough to look the other way as I wallowed in my despair.
Turns out, you can do a LOT of damage with a trumpet.
And thus began my lovely, long-term relationship with performance anxiety.
Fear Was Trying to Save Me
Here's the thing— I should have been afraid that day. Fear was trying to protect me—from my cut lip, from my ego, from pushing beyond what was wise.
But I didn't listen. Because listening would have meant showing weakness.
This is what most people don't understand about fear: It's not always the enemy.
Sometimes fear is trying to save us from ourselves. Sometimes it's pointing toward what needs attention. And sometimes—MOST times—it's actually guiding us toward our greatest breakthroughs.
The Real Problem with Fear
The problem isn't that we have fear. The problem is we REFUSE to listen to it.
We don't like how it makes us feel, so we shove it in a corner and soldier on. We resist it, stuff it down, pretend it doesn't exist.
And the more we resist it, the LOUDER it gets.
Until it's screaming so loud we can't hear our own inner wisdom anymore.
For years after that competition, music became a source of anxiety instead of joy. Every performance was a battle against the fear of failing again. Playing it safe when I needed to lean in. Practicing obsessively to make the fear go away.
It never did.
Learning to Listen
Until I discovered something that changed everything: The same things that triggered my fear could actually heal it.
Those frequencies that once made me tense could teach my body to release. The vibrations that created anxiety could restore calm.
Now I can see how perfectly it all fits together—the fear, the healing, the music, the self-love journey. They're not separate paths...
They're all part of learning to listen.
To your fear. To your body. To that quiet voice inside that always knows what you need.
What Is Your Fear Trying to Tell You?
Fear isn't meant to stop you. It's meant to make you pause long enough to hear what you really need to know.
What is your fear trying to tell you that you're not ready to hear?
Are you ready to learn how to listen to your fear without letting it run your life? Discover the path in The Complete Self-Love System. You’ll connect with yourself in ways you never imagined.
Keep listening,
Nick
The Mystic Next Door
P.S. A few months ago, I picked up my trumpet after 10 years off. To learn to play jazz, of all things. The music I desperately wanted to play when I was younger, but never had the guts to lay it all out there. Here's to another step on the path of reconciliation.
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