Viva La Vida

This weeknd I went to see Coldplay in Concert, their first concert in England. I went with Kay Dub. She cried, inwardly appreciating the music; she sat; she clapped her hands close to her body. She told me afterward that she wished she could be more like the crowd.

A while ago, I chose to become more selfless. I wanted to get out of my head, stopped being self-conscious, and connected with art. I stood up, danced, sang along, and cheered. I let go to show that I am fully appreciative of another person’s art.

I was brought up in a family that didn’t say I love you and didn’t give hugs, but I wanted it to be different so I changed it. I started hugging my mother, my grandmother, my dad, everyone, and told them that i love them, miss them, and want to be around them whenever I can (without exhausting the truth of the message).

Though I admire such inward admiration of beauty, I could probably do that in my room listening to my music. (I am not dogging on the way Kay listens, defines, lives in music. I am only stating what it feels to me.) At the concert no one knows who I am, no one knows which song they loved the most and why, all we know is that we are here, sharing an interest in art.

At the concert, I couldn't sit. I trembled, connected, and exploded. I let go of my critique, I immersed and understood what this music meant to me: the summer of love 2008, ecstacy, come downs, long drives, home, and a journey to find my self. Even though I was a part of the crowd in the greater perspective, I had found redemption by getting lost in the blur.

The movement whether it is because of politics, love, death, art, or religion is a change that is greater than my self. It is collective, global and visible in the rallies, elections, or in the gathering for a concert.

I give thanks for growth, change, empowerment, resilience of the human spirit, and most importantly love. I am alive. I am alive. I am a life. Life.