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| The Hashtag Hope booth at Pitch this year. |
So I've started several entries, but never finished them because I kind of suck like that. To be honest, there's a good chance this post will end the same way, but c'est la vie.
Anyway, my friend Nick posted this video today, and it got me thinking. Nick and I talked during Pitch and Praise, and I remember reflecting on this feeling of okayness. It was surreal, looking back and reflecting on the fact that I hadn't had a mental breakdown, anxiety or panic attack, any major depressive episode, or even thoughts of suicide since college had ended a month prior. I thought about writing about it, then I got hired at McDonalds, and my endless free time was suddenly constricted around a crazy schedule of shift work. Work filled my days and nights, and when I wasn't working I was likely catching up on sleep, spending the little time I got with one of my roommates, or just watching Netflix because I'm lazy.
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| You can't even see him in the picture, but I attempted to get a shot of Andrew running around the Amphitheatre. |
That brings me to today when Staci and I went to Toronto to see Panic! at the Disco. We were watching Andrew McMahon in the Wilderness and Andrew starts running around the audience during Synesthesia, singing and hugging fans. There was a guy sitting by us who clearly was a fan-- dancing in the aisle, knew every word to every song, even had a Wilderness sweater on in the 32C heat. Seeing the look on his face when Andrew went up and sang to him was priceless. It was like his whole world had just been completed by this thin blonde dude with a microphone. As Andrew moved through the GA seating in the back of the Amphitheatre, this look of euphoria followed him everywhere he went. It was such a lovely scene to behold. All these smiling teenagers playing under a parachute, the sun setting on one of the most beautiful and diverse cities on a planet, with the lake shining behind us, and a plane rising to the sky right behind the trees.
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| I'm super stupid and really only got shots of Panic! at the Disco. Sorry fam. |
The concert played on through a flawless P!atD set, and a great nostalgia trip care of Weezer, and as I fell into the music, emotions within myself began to sort and slide, falling into little boxes like happy little marbles. Which brings me back to Nick's video. As I watched the video after the concert, the little labels of the boxes became clear, legible, understandable. For the first time in years, the marbles were in the right places. The blue marbles were tucked away in a sad, little box; the happy yellow marbles and loving red marbles were spread into lots of little boxes; the awful black marbles which used to cover and destroy everything were finally all gathered into a little box, taped up and tucked away.
Despite the challenges I'm dealing with now, and trust me, there are plenty, I still feel clear. Like my head is finally above water. I may still be far away from shore, but the lifeguard coming to save me, my head is above the waves, and I can feel the light, see the beach and breathe again. My lungs can expand again, the sun is warming me up. Things are beautiful again.
Brendon talked a little bit tonight about what touring with Weezer meant to him. He talked about learning guitar and drums to songs from Pinkerton, how when Panic! was starting, he was asked who he wanted to tour with and was laughed at when he said Weezer because "Panic! would never be that good," yet there he was, playing with his heroes. That in particular really spoke to me, because in my head, I could see this skinny 17-year-old kid in leather and smudged eye liner, signing a record deal, dreaming of playing with his idols. 12 years later, still wearing leather pants, he's playing to a packed stadium of 16 000 people singing back to him, with Weezer headlining the tour. It was a beautiful moment, seeing that look in his joy-filled eyes, when he shared that with the crowd.
This has been a very weird post, full of tangents, but there's a point in here somewhere. To put it plainly, it would be just "hope". Hope got America their first black president. Hope (and ramen) fueled the dreams of a 17-year-old, and got him to Toronto. Hope got Andrew McMahon through cancer, and here to fill the wildest dreams of a lot of people tonight. For many people, hope is what keeps them here to see the sun rise again tomorrow. Hope kept Nick alive, to bring me what I needed to stay alive. Hope brings many things, and for the first time in a very, very long time, I can say that hope has brought me peace.
