Perfection is only found in a static image. If there is movement, there is erosion and malfunction. Thus the nature of existence is imperfection — defects define life, so expect discordance. Yet orchestras can harmonize, order can be brought to the cacophony.
And although imperfectly implemented, the melody is often good enough. But oh so much practice to maintain the music as performers strive to achieve a state resembling perfection. The outside world rages but they focus on the fingering, the notes, the sounds, the silences.
What is your instrument? Do you practice? With whom do you play? Do you have a piece that you’re attempting to perfect? Do you drown out your surroundings as you focus on your part? Without a part to play, are you merely adding to the discordance within the world?
Some people simply smack spoons or even sing — the specific instrumentation does not matter. Birth is your invitation to life — welcome. But there is one requirement to remaining untroubled: play your instrument. Imagine perfection then practice.