Yesterday I did something unpredictable, even by my own standards. Kind of like that time I spontaneously booked a trip to the Bahamas and raised eyebrows when really all I wanted to do was to soak up a little sunshine, thankyouverymuch.
I bought myself a ticket to see Phish at MSG. Unlike all the other times when I went with a group of friends, I decided to do this one solo. On purpose. It’s possible I’ll meet up with friends before or after the show. It’s also highly likely that I’ll bump into old acquaintances in the Garden or in line at the bathroom. And though Bryan offered to come with me (and sounded a little reluctant to let me go alone), he understood my reasons.
I have come to a point in my life where I have to do things on my own terms. I intend fully to dance my ass off, and I wouldn’t dream of missing the boys when they are practically playing in my backyard, but the reality of the situation is that Phish takes me back to that initial panic attack and indoor concerts in particular are my downfall where anxiety is concerned. My nights of standing a few rows back from the stage or Page side/rage side are sadly over, but I’m content to go alone. In fact, I’m kind of looking forward to it.
The last time I saw them play at the Garden, I couldn’t help but feel bad that my friends had to make concessions just to hang out with me. Away from the center of the activity, in an area that I knew had poor sound quality because I felt like I could breathe and move around freely.
I don’t want to be a burden to my friends and ultimately, I want us all to enjoy the show.
And so I’ll go at it on my own terms.
I’m floating in the blimp a lot
I feel the feeling I forgot
of swimming weightless in the womb
or bouncing gently ’round the room
In a minute I’ll be free
and you’ll be splashing in the sea