U2

Last weekend Ross and I saw U2 in concert, and it was nothing short of electrifying. We were on the floor close enough to see the band's faces, dancing and singing along with thousands of intimate strangers outside on a gorgeous summer night. When the band walked out on stage to start the show, I felt so happy and so alive. It was still daylight, just turning to dusk, and these men who make this moving music felt like old friends.

It made me remember how important and inspiring music can be when you really love it. I've decided to overcome the little technical hurdles I have right now (e.g. get that old ipod to work and get a player in the kitchen) to make sure I can listen to and explore new music in the places I spend most of my time. It also reminded me how important social action is to me, and how, despite my work for an environmental group, I have pushed that to the back burner as I started raising children. I miss it.

Being at the concert also reminded me how following a passion is so key to having a fulfilling life. These moments are what make life rich and exciting and beautiful. Sometimes it seems too inconvenient, or like a lesser priority when there are so many things to do to run a household and raise a family. We could have so easily not traveled the four hours to the concert. In fact, when we woke up in the morning exhausted from a long week and busy weekend, it occurred to us that maybe we shouldn't go. I'm SO glad we went. Doing something that knocks your socks off every once in a while is worth the effort.

It was also such a bonding experience for me and Ross. It was the first concert we have been to together in a long time, and it is something we both love doing. We felt like kids again, drinking our Jaeger and Red Bull in the car before the show (after all, we had a long drive back later and needed to be awake); walking around the college town where we lived during law school and driving by the apartment where we brought home our first child; and then experiencing together a moving concert of music we have loved for twenty years. As caregivers to two young and precocious boys, often our time alone together is spent collapsed on the couch, reading or watching a movie. It was invigorating to do something so exciting together, and reminiscent of our early years. In fact, early in our relationship we sat in line overnight to get tickets to a Phish show, which was Ross’ favorite band at the time. I was not that into Phish, but I was very into a certain boy who became my husband. The experience was one we will always remember.

The concert also spun me into some deep thinking about life and growing older. The first concert I went to was in 1992. I was 17 years old at the time, and my friend Brian and I snuck onto the floor of the concert from our balcony seats using the ticket stubs of our friends with better seats. He recently reminded me that I said at the time, "We're so close I can see the beads of sweat on Bono's face." Something a 17-year-old would say. Life was in front of me, possibilities were endless, and U2 were still young men. It seemed like being young was the peak of life.

This time was different in many ways. Almost twenty years have passed. I have a husband and two children, an established career, a house, and lots of things tying me down. I still have plenty of life in front of me, but I have plenty of life behind me too.

I had one of those moments at the concert where I greeted myself in the bathroom mirror and it was like saying hello to the 17-year-old version of myself. I never thought I would get to 36 so quickly. I also didn't know that 36 would feel good, and that in many ways I would feel the same (especially when I let the responsibilities leave my mind for a while). When U2 walked on stage, I felt the same. I was jumping up and down, so full of life, so happy. It may be more socially acceptable for a 17-year-old to do that, but it felt good. I probably thought at 17 that the age of 36 was past my prime in some way. Oh contrare. Life is getting more interesting, in many ways I'm getting braver, and I understand the big picture so much better.

It also helped that the band themselves just turned the corner into their 50s, and they don't seem bothered by it in the least. And contrary to other bands I've seen who have been touring for a long time, they still were on fire with a passion for their music, and so energized by the crowd. Bono looked reluctant to leave the stage even after two encores.

I think I can speak for most of the 65,000 people in the audience and say that we too were reluctant for them to leave the stage. Their music is poetry. It inspires us to be better people, like the heroes Martin Luther King Jr. and Aung San Suu Kyi that the band plays tributes to in their concerts. They make us want to be kinder, more compassionate, and to work for justice and peace in the world and in our communities.

At one point in the concert, two women started pushing their way through the crowd to get closer to the stage. They were breaking the unspoken code of concert-goers, moving us from our established spots and pushing us back ever so slightly so they could get a closer view. I realized that while I may have pushed my own way to the front when I was 17, it was not really an option for me anymore. It wasn’t the thing of integrity to do, and that was more important than a closer view of the band. And since the song “In the Name of Love” was playing, it was easy to push anger from my mind and focus on more important things, including the joy of just being there.