Music is often called a “universal language,” and I would have to agree with that. In terms of reading music, it is the same across the board. And beyond that, even if you don’t know the actual words to a song, music can be understood through the feelings being evoked.

For years we have all crowded around our TVs to watch countless competition shows, hoping our favorite will be voted “the best.” Lately, that very notion of competition in music has really started to irk me. The idea of trying to pigeonhole something as unbelievably vast as music into one single “best” seems asinine and, honestly, counterproductive. It is an extremely subjective process that rewards someone based on the opinions of a select few.

Being a musician myself, I have certainly found myself caught up in internal competition. I would get so frustrated in not making the strides that others have, and I would ultimately view myself as lesser because they had something that I didn’t. It wasn’t until about a year ago that I finally snapped out of that way of thinking.

I suddenly found myself hanging out with people who were incredibly encouraging and eager to lend a hand to one another. For them, it was never about being the frontman, having the solo, or getting recognition. They simply did things for their passionate love of music, for the experience, and for each other.

It was eye-opening and really refreshing to see these wonderful people interact with one another and to have them so openly accept me and what I do. It’s as though I could breathe a sigh of relief for the first time in years. It didn’t matter if I made a mistake or didn’t remember all of the words because I tried, I made it my own, and I learned.

I was reminded what music is supposed to be about. It’s a community. It’s people coming together and creating something that they believe in. It’s a feeling of camaraderie and unity that extends to different people groups and cultures.

Recently, I was going through a book put together by Tom Moon called 1,000 Recordings to Hear Before You Die, and I came across a collaboration between Ry Cooder and Vishwa Mohan Bhatt. Cooder is an American blues-style bottleneck guitar player, and Bhatt is from India and plays an eight-stringed instrument that he created. Together, they made an album called A Meeting by the River.

What I found so intriguing about this duo is that these are two styles I would have never thought to put together, and yet they have such striking similarities. Both styles feature a pitch bending slide on their instruments, but each does so in their own unique way. If you were to hear the track playing in the background, not really paying any attention to it, you might not even notice that what you’re hearing is a glorious international mash-up. But when you do listen, you can hear clear, distinct Indian and American themes.

As these men play together, the objective is always to complement one another. There is never a sense of “showiness,” just a respect for each other’s culture. Their individual musical traditions come together and marry so sweetly that I, for one, cannot help but sit back and listen in total awe.

To me, this is what music should always be about. It’s about sharing and discovering new ideas and techniques. It’s about a mutual understanding of one another, no matter where you’ve come from.

While a good performance goes a long way, a good heart behind the music can make all the difference.

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