People come to contemplative practice expecting silence. They find noise. They expect emptiness. They find how full they are.
Patanjali's second sutra is the instruction and the whole curriculum simultaneously: citta vritti nirodha, the stilling of mental fluctuations. What the practitioner discovers in the early stages of practice is not stillness — it is the discovery of how much movement there already is, previously unnoticed. The mind was never quiet. You simply were not paying attention.
This is not discouraging if you understand it correctly. The noise was always there. The practice makes it visible — and what is visible can be worked with. What is invisible only runs you.
Stillness is not the absence of content. It is a quality of relationship to content. The still mind is not the empty mind. It is the mind that can hold its contents without being held by them.
This is what fearlessness actually is. Not the absence of fear, but the capacity to feel fear without being compelled by it. You already have what you need for this. You have simply not yet been still enough to find it.