I grew up playing the trumpet, though in this photo, I’ve got a French horn in my hands. I spent countless hours practicing, rehearsing, and performing. I was never great, but I loved it—the challenge, the joy of making music, and the camaraderie that came with it.

I’m on the left in this picture. The guy on the right, Alden Blaho, has been a lifelong friend. He stood by Jamie and me at our wedding nearly 34 years ago, and he’s the godfather of our daughter. We’ve stayed connected for 40 years, and I’m grateful for every one of them.

Looking back at this photo, I’m reminded of something our instructors taught us. Every instrument on that field had a voice, and each one mattered to the overall performance. A skilled ear could pick out an individual musician within the full sound, and they trained us to do the same. The best musicians don’t just play their part, they listen deeply, tuning in to the whole while never losing sight of the individual voices within it.

Eventually, I put my instruments down, but my love for music, especially live performances, never faded.

And living in Music City?

Well, that feels about right.

One of my favorite things about live music is how, if you really focus, you can isolate a single instrument within the band. At first, it’s all just sound, one big, blended experience. But if you listen with intent, suddenly you pick up on something new. The subtle harmonies from the backup singers. The drummer’s intricate fills that you never noticed before. The details were always there. You just weren’t tuned in.

That same ability applies far beyond music. We’re constantly surrounded by voices—at work, in conversations, in meetings, in everyday interactions. And most of the time, we naturally tune in to the soloist, the one out front, demanding our attention as the spotlight shines on them. But what happens when you shift your focus? When you listen not just to a group, but within it?

Instead of hearing the general discussion in a team meeting, what if you listened for the quiet voice in the corner with an idea worth exploring? Instead of taking in a customer survey as a single data point, what if you zeroed in on one comment that reveals something deeper? Instead of nodding along in a conversation, what if you noticed the hesitation in someone’s voice, the unspoken concern, the spark of excitement that might be worth fanning into a flame?

We often think of positive disruptors as the ones out front, sharing insights, inspiring others, leading the charge. And sometimes they are. But not always. Sometimes the most powerful disruption starts in silence. In listening. In picking up on the sound of one voice, the insight of one customer, the inspiration of one idea.

Disruption isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s about hearing what others miss. Which voice might you need to focus on? What might you hear if you listened just a little closer? And how often are the loudest voices, the soloists in your midst, pulling all the attention while quieter, equally important voices go unheard?

Maybe this is the week to shift your focus. To tune in. To really listen.