The first recital where nobody claps for your mistake is the one where you learn mistakes don’t end the song.

The fear is not really about a wrong note, it is about what you imagine happens next. Then one evening you play it wrong, the room does not react, and the piece carries on. An error turns out to be an event inside the performance rather than the end of it. Most of the dread was about an audience that was never watching that closely.

Put yourself somewhere this week where a small mistake in front of people is possible. Play, speak, serve, present. When one happens, keep going without stopping to apologise, and notice afterwards how little of it anybody else kept.