A Thought On Thursday

Last night I was feeling quite grumpy and judged. The result, I was pretty judgy myself because, of course, the best defense is a good offense. I was not the model audience member for a concert to benefit a woman battling breast cancer.

I could have donated via Paypal. I could have skulked away and done nothing at all. Something inside me, well hidden under great puffy duvets of defensiveness and wrath, said that there was something important in showing my face. Putting my body in the room was, on some level, a donation and one that I would regret not making. So I went.

I was going to put my body in the room, put my money in the donation box and head out, maybe even before the first tune was played. Baby steps, right? Baby steps are fine and I only had a baby step or two in me last night. I was headed home, I hadn't had dinner, I felt quite uncreative and stupid. So bad I couldn't even use real words to describe it. Not to mention stompy. Staying wouldn't do anyone any good.

You can't leave a concert before the first song, though. So I would just stay for one song then off I'd go.

I stayed for the whole thing. I just...didn't feel like leaving. I meditated during the intermission on The Year of Yes and it didn't tell me to go. Didn't tell me to stay either but it definitely didn't tell me to go. The music was wonderful, as I knew it would be. Ditto the participants and the sentiment and the general vibe. It was important to be in that room, though I suspect not nearly as important for the woman being honored as it was for me. The venue was a church in the West Village and sitting in church listening to music is a throwback to my agnostic, musical childhood. I did a lot of thinking.

The thought I want to share today is this: Let's say you defaulted on your mortgage or got a terminal illness or were wrongly imprisoned and you needed assistance. Who would organize your concert or auction or casino night, believing in you and your ability to succeed? And who would be in the room when that event transpired. It doesn't matter, really, who would come to your funeral.

Who would come to your concert?