Well, here I am again: compelled to write, to express, to feel, after seeing a band I’ve listened to for years in the flesh.

I had the strange but incredible opportunity to see Unleash the Archers two days in a row – once in Adelaide and once in Perth. (They added a Perth show late, after I’d already booked everything for the Adelaide one.) They were amazing both times, but what set the second show apart was I managed to get into the very front row. There was no barrier between me and the stage, and the band was literally centimetres away the whole show. At any point I could have reached out and touched them.

When this happens and when the artist leans into it, you become part of the experience. We made eye contact, fist bumped, and looked at each other while we sang the words together. I would never have expected the difference this would make, how it elevated an already fantastic show into something so much more personal. I’m going to be riding this high for days. At least three times while I was recording a video on my phone, the singer Brittney Hayes noticed and sang to the camera. I’m not much of a celebrity person, but being noticed and acknowledged by someone whose talents I admire has me completely giddy. 

It’s the most viscerally and strongly I’ve felt in months. A metal show is a unique place where you can absolutely let go: you can scream, flail your arms around, dance or jump, cry, whatever. It doesn’t matter what you look like or what you do because everyone else there is there for the same reason: the love of the music, and they won’t judge you.

This has been a difficult year in many ways. Planning a wedding is equal parts exciting and stressful, not to mention the aggressive saving we’ve been doing for it. My game development successes from last year have unfortunately not carried over, and I’ve had two different game attempts gutter out into indefinite hiatus, which has been incredibly discouraging and draining. I didn’t realise how much I’d settled into a numb, day-by-day malaise, mobbed by a thousand everyday irritations until this trip, though short, completely shocked me out of it all and reminded me that I am a person with dreams and likes and aspirations and that I can feel, not just think. That there exists a world outside of my apartment’s walls – I hadn’t realised how much my outlook had shrunk to the four rooms I live in and the screens I stare into for most of my life. 

The trip I’ve just been on was packed with so many great experiences: seeing my best friends all together for the first time in months, seeing the new house that a pair of them have just bought, meeting the child that a different pair of them have just brought into the world, and examining the first results of the new hobby we’re all getting into. I want to continue to be present in their lives, to be a part of their journey and have them be a part of mine. 

And of course the shows. For these musicians to journey across the world from Canada, and for this weird tour schedule change to allow our lives to intersect twice in two days is something I’ll forever be grateful for. Seeing an artist you admire live is the crown jewel in the listening journey. A rare experience, but one I will always treasure.

I need to do this more often.

I’ve consistently said that this blog is a lesson and a reminder from me to myself. Reading the past few entries has been humbling, because I’ve come to similar conclusions before, and yet this year I failed to learn from past lessons, and fell into the same struggle I’ve fallen into before, chasing the same immense and misguided goal of becoming a video game developer, when this is not what gives my life meaning.

Here’s what gives my life meaning: 

1. My connections to the people I love,
2. Travel and seeing new places, particularly natural wonders,
3. Music – the “ordinary” listening experience to form the foundation, and live shows as the capstone,
4. Creating and storytelling, on my own but especially with others. Not just the result, but the process, the experience.

This is the accrual of things I’ve written in this blog before. It’s practically scientific. It’s time to learn from this.

In 6-9 months’ time when I get restless again and think that the solution is to upend my life and change my career, I need to reread this list and do the things on it. Go for a trip. Go see a show. Get in a mosh and feel myself into existence again. Go hug my friends.

Memory is so fallible. 

In my Antioch youth group days, one particular talk that a member gave was about experiencing, and being present for things like music shows or other (usually) one-off experiences. She criticised the desire to want to record these things instead of just being present and letting yourself be immersed in the experience. It’s one of the only individual talks from my years in the group that has stuck with me all this time, and it’s a very valid point.

However, there is a flipside. Without a record, without a memory aid, even the most intense experience we have will eventually fade in our minds. We can’t stop this entirely, but we can help ourselves a lot by making and keeping a memento. That’s why I record at least a bit of every show I attend. I don’t overdo it, because yes, being present is the point of being there, but in 5 years’ time I can rewatch my video of Brittney Hayes looking me in the eyes as we sing Ghosts In The Mist, and I’ll definitely remember what that felt like better than if I had the memory and nothing else.

It’s also why I keep updating this blog, even if only once or twice a year. Part of it is that I just have the unsuppressable need to put these thoughts to the page. But the lessons that I’ve explicitly listed above only emerge after looking at what I’ve written over a timeframe of years.

It’s time to listen.