From Trauma to Connection: What a Simple Book Signing Taught Me About Healing and Moving Forward
- Jake Paul
- Dec 28, 2025
- 4 min read
Yesterday, I sat at a table with my guitar, a stack of books, and a pen—just another author doing a signing. At least that’s what it looked like from the outside.
But if I’ve learned anything, it’s that nothing about healing is surface-level. And yesterday reminded me why I wrote Hollow in the first place: healing happens when stories collide.
People think book signings are about selling books. That’s not wrong. But something bigger happened—I got to sit face-to-face with people who are carrying their own stories of pain, fear, anxiety, hope, and unfinished dreams. And that kind of connection does more for the nervous system than any self-help quote ever could.
The Power of Being Seen
Everyone who came to the table brought something with them. Not physical—emotional.
I listened more than I talked, and that’s what hit me the hardest. Anxiety loosens its grip when someone finally feels seen. Trauma feels less isolating when we’re reminded we aren’t the only ones fighting through our past. Hearing their stories reminded me of something simple but easy to forget: healing isn’t a private event—it’s a shared one.
“My son has too much anxiety to even try.”
One woman grabbed my CD. We talked, and her voice changed a bit when she said her son can’t even imagine pursuing a dream because his anxiety is that overwhelming.
I get that. I lived that.
But here’s the truth I’ve learned the hard way: we don’t manage anxiety by aiming at the finish line—we manage it by lowering the bar to today.
Not “write a book.” Not “record an album.” Not “change your whole life overnight.”
Just breathe. Just play something. Daily box breathing. Touch an instrument—even if it’s not guitar. One inhale. One note. One loop. One tiny step.
She told me playing her cello helps her ADHD. I told her that’s exactly the point—music regulates the nervous system. It’s not about becoming a musician. It’s about giving your mind and body a way out of the storm long enough to remember there’s a sky.
Music as a Tool for Healing
The woman told me that playing her cello helps with her ADHD. I explained that this is exactly why music is so powerful—it helps regulate the nervous system. It’s not about becoming a professional musician (although she is one) or mastering an instrument overnight. It’s about the simple act of engaging with music to calm the mind and body.
Daily practices like box breathing or touching an instrument can create moments of peace and grounding. These small rituals can make a big difference in managing anxiety and trauma.
“I have all this poetry… I just don’t know what to do with it.”
Another guy walked up—soft-spoken, musical, eyes full of words his mouth hasn’t released yet. His poetry is piling up. He wants to create something with it—songs, a book, something like Hollow—but fear and uncertainty have him stuck in an emotional tug-of-war.
So I asked him the question that forced me to change my life:
“What’s the alternative?”
If you don’t start, then what? You stay exactly where you are—safe, familiar, slowly suffocating.
That question is uncomfortable—but it saved my life. Because the things that felt “safe” were destroying me. My old patterns were familiar, but they were the fuel behind my anxiety and addiction. Staying in the same cycle wasn’t neutral—it was swallowing me whole.
Fear of the “what if” is real—but staying stuck is worse
Everyone I talked to had some version of the same fear:
What if I’m not good enough?
What if I fail?
What if it’s not perfect?
What if it doesn’t work out?
I’ve asked every one of those questions. They kept me trapped longer than anything external ever did.
Here’s what I know now: you don’t get rid of the “what ifs”—you walk through them. I took a leap of faith without guarantees. I didn’t land where I expected—but I landed somewhere better.
Not easier. Better.
I traded in something for a greater sense of purpose.
The thread that ties it all together
Every conversation yesterday pointed to the same reality:
Fear keeps us frozen. Routine keeps us moving. Music keeps us grounded. Connection keeps us alive.
One breath. One chord. One honest conversation. That’s how change happens.
If you’re reading this and you feel stuck…
Here’s my challenge:
Pick something small and repeatable. Box breathe today. Play one chord today. Write one line today. Share one thought with someone who will actually listen.
Forget the giant leap for now. Just step forward.
Because the alternative is staying exactly where you are—and you already know how that story ends.
Practical Steps to Move Forward
If you or someone you know struggles with anxiety or trauma, here are some practical ways to start healing:
Lower the bar for today. Don’t pressure yourself to achieve big goals immediately. Focus on small, manageable actions.
Practice daily breathing exercises. Techniques like box breathing can calm the nervous system.
Engage with music or art. Even simple interaction with an instrument or creative activity can regulate emotions.
Share your story. Find safe spaces to talk about your experiences. Connection is a powerful healer.
Listen to others. Healing grows when we hear and validate each other’s journeys.
The Unexpected Gift of a Book Signing
What began as a routine book signing turned into a profound reminder of why I write. Healing is messy, complex, and deeply human. It happens when we connect, listen, and share.
If you are carrying pain or anxiety, remember you are not alone. Healing starts with small steps and grows through connection. Sometimes, a simple conversation can change the course of a life.
Take a moment today to breathe, reach out, or listen. These small acts can transform your journey forward.
~Jake P.
PS - Thank you @thebookstoreappleton for all that you do to make these moments happen! You have a created a special and spiritual place...that just so happens to sell books too.
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