From the Second Row
It was a Saturday night and we hadn’t purchased our concert tickets in advance, we almost never do and there are always tickets just for us. This time we were treating my parents, adding a little pressure to our usual spontaneity, but within 15 minutes someone had turned in enough tickets that we could proceed into the auditorium. This was a very popular local performance, the symphony along with four vocal talents bringing us the works of Irving Berlin and Andrew Lloyd Webber, the latter being my Mother’s favorite. Of course we were looking for the best seats possible, but with general admission seating and my Dad’s limited mobility we were forced to sit in the second row. In order to get the full view of the orchestra our preference would have been about tenth. I tried not to grouse, but in my mind I was thinking how good could this be sitting so close that I can actually read the eighth notes on the violinist’s music stand? Well my partner leans over to me and says something about us having a much different view of the orchestra from here. I thought about it and before the music began I decided I would choose an open mind about the seating. Then the melodic sounds filled up the auditorium and what a different perspective it was. Truly magical from this place or did I decide it would be. I was mesmerized by the experience of seeing every intricate finger movement and every graceful stroke of the bow gliding across the strings. The vocalists’ interpretations were simply magnetic; their expressive gestures with every nuance brought me closer into their harmonious world, a feeling of oneness with each performer.
As we were driving home I was getting the message that there was something here for me in this experience. It seemed to me that a good number of us spend a lot of our living in a place of analytical speculation or assumption, a deciding how things are going to play out, allowing the auto pilot mode as part of our daily routine. Like a math equation we go through life feeling we must do this plus this to equal what we think is reasonable or manageable, a sort of insurance policy for life. The words satisfactory, acceptable, mediocre come to mind. For me it’s sounding a little “vanilla” flavored rather than a “chocolate moose tracks” kind of life. If the auditorium were empty would I have chosen second row seats? Probably not. In order for me to experience something different, something more, I needed the second row to be the only option, a gentle nudging from the universe. I didn’t choose my experience it was chosen for me, this time, and look at all the goodies that came dripping out. So what if we all made conscious choices without always knowing, trusting in the possibility of creating dark chocolate swirls with peanut butter cup surprise experiences …what kind of richness just might come oozing out of that life? Plain or waffle cone?