I was nine years old when I lost faith in the media. And I was nine years old when I learnt to question what a TV screen told me who I could and shouldn’t love. I was also nine years old when the world fragmented into rupture, and what could have been a global cry for love became a trojan horse for mass war, death, fear and, above all else, separation.

This is a reminder of the importance of discerning whom we listen to and the consequences that follow when we disregard our better judgment… While it sounded right then, it was a messy solution to a deeper problem. Ultimately I listened to the wrong person when I should have listened to myself first.

Welcome to the three-way conversation between my fear, my curiosity and a wise pianist named Sam.* This is how, together, we three navigated doing something I was afraid to do; singing to something with ears.

"The nerves won't go," Sunny told me across from her guitar. Her big brown eyes and open heart filled the distance between us strangers, and something within me began to soften.

Often, we need the fear of staying the same to outweigh the fear of change to step out - it’s why we wait for someone to leave to say I love you and wait for time to run out to create.