10/12/2025
Someone told me yesterday that when they get nervous and their heart starts racing, they call it their “Inner Applause”—because instead of assuming something is wrong, they imagine their body is cheering them on. And honestly, that might be one of the most precious narrative shifts I’ve ever heard.
Think about how differently we would approach life if we treated our anxiety not as a warning to retreat, but as a signal that something meaningful is happening. Butterflies wouldn’t mean fear—they’d mean anticipation. A pounding heartbeat wouldn’t mean panic—it would mean preparation. The trembling hands, the shaky voice, the fluttering chest—maybe those aren’t symptoms of weakness at all. Maybe they’re the body recognizing a moment that matters before the mind fully catches up.
Every dream comes with a doorway, and often, the threshold feels uncomfortable. We’ve been conditioned to believe nerves are a red flag, when sometimes they are a green light. The body doesn’t always know the difference between excitement and fear. The sensations are nearly identical—the story we attach to them is what changes everything.
Calling it “Inner Applause” is like having your own built-in cheering section. It’s your heartbeat saying, “You’ve waited for this. You care about this. You’re stepping into growth.” It’s a reminder that the moments that make us shake are also the ones that shape us.
So the next time your heart races, try hearing it as a crowd rising to its feet—not to warn you away from the stage, but to welcome you onto it. Because sometimes, the body doesn’t say “stop.” Sometimes, it says “go.”
“Andy Burg”
