Picture yourself at eighty on a porch swing, looking back. Ask what that person would want you to stop worrying about.

Distance changes the size of things. Most of what is taking up room in your head this week will not survive to be remembered, and from far enough away you can usually tell which parts. Imagining a much older version of yourself borrows that distance now instead of waiting sixty years for it. What stays large when you look back tends to be people, and the nerve you did or did not find.

Give it five honest minutes and name one worry that would not make the cut. Then act as if that is true for a day: skip the rehearsal, send the message, let the small thing stay small.