Seeing people ahead of time and getting acquainted with the space

Brian Bell, musician and seeker of harmony, once spoke with quiet wisdom: “Seeing people ahead of time and getting acquainted with the space you're playing in is important to getting comfortable in that place.” Though these words were spoken of the stage and of music, they carry a deeper resonance, for they touch upon the ancient truth that familiarity breeds courage, and that to know the ground upon which you stand is the first step toward mastery.

The meaning of this saying is rooted in preparation. Many fear new places, new faces, and new challenges, for the unknown is a shadow that unsettles the soul. To walk blindly into an unfamiliar hall, to face a crowd unimagined, is to risk being shaken by doubt. But by seeing people beforehand, by acquainting oneself with the surroundings, the mind begins to quiet, the heart steadies, and the body feels at home. What was once strange becomes friendly, and what was once daunting becomes manageable.

The origin of such wisdom is as old as performance itself. The ancient orators of Greece would walk the colonnades of the forum before delivering their speeches, listening to the murmur of the people, feeling the weight of the marble beneath their sandals, rehearsing in the very place where their words would later resound. The gladiators, too, studied the sand of the arena before the battle, so that fear of the stage itself would not be their undoing. From then until now, those who rise before others know this truth: the stage must first be made familiar, or it will turn into an enemy.

History provides vivid examples. Abraham Lincoln, before delivering the Gettysburg Address, is said to have quietly walked the grounds where thousands lay buried. In doing so, he was not only acquainting himself with the space, but also aligning his spirit with the solemnity of the moment. By the time he stood to speak, he was not an intruder but a participant in the place itself, and his words carried the strength of that belonging. His preparation transformed fear into serenity, and serenity into power.

This truth is not only for musicians, orators, or leaders, but for all who face the unknown. The student who walks through the hall before an exam, the worker who visits a new workplace before their first day, the traveler who studies the streets of a foreign city—each is following the same principle. To know the space beforehand is to claim it, to make it less strange, and to allow the spirit to rise without hindrance.

O children of tomorrow, learn this well: courage is not the absence of fear, but the fruit of preparation. If you tremble before a task, do not despise your trembling. Instead, walk the ground before you, look upon the faces you will meet, and breathe the air of the place. In this way, you disarm the unknown, turning it from a foe into a friend.

Therefore, the lesson is clear: do not step blindly into new spaces. Seek them out in advance. Become familiar, become grounded, and then, when the moment arrives, you will not feel like a stranger, but like one returning home. For comfort is the foundation of confidence, and confidence is the mother of success.

Thus Brian Bell’s words endure as gentle counsel: “Seeing people ahead of time and getting acquainted with the space you're playing in is important to getting comfortable in that place.” Let them remind you that the unknown is only unknown until you walk into it. And once you have walked, it is no longer strange—it is yours.