journey
A full moon peeks out on the horizon as the late summer nights breeze whips your face. Relative to sailing you are in hyperspeed. While you hold on to the wheel you can feel the water rush past the rudder, you can feel the power of the wind. Nothing gets better than the exhilaration yet simultaneous peace that these types of moments bring me. There are few ways to get here and some never do. Personally sailing and listening to the grateful dead are the two vehicles that lead me into this dreamlike state.
Boats are vehicles. Oftentimes that statement gets lost in the 21st century because people view sailing as a luxury. While that is most definitely true it does not change the fact that boats are transportation mechanisms. During the first week of school this year I was lucky enough to go on a sailing trip up north to Santa Cruz island. It included some of the best sailing I’ve ever done because of the phenomenal wind and constant sailing, and it included some of the best moments with my family because we were ‘stuck’ on the boat together for such a long time. After over 24 hours of nonstop sailing from Catalina we made it to a cove called “Coches Prietos”. The awe instilled in me and the rest of the people on the boat from our incredible sail and from staring up at the island cliffs was indescribable. If I saw nothing more than this for the rest of the trip I would have been content. Later in the day it was decided that my brother’s friend Nate and I would sleep on land. After listening to the album “Dark Side of The Moon” by Pink Floyd, we kayaked to shore. It was already dark and the moon was not yet above the horizon but we could feel it coming. We walked several miles up a dark trail and then turned up a steep rugged and thickly brushed ridge. After more than half an hour of hiking we suddenly stopped and looked up. There were more stars than I had ever seen above me at once. As my eye followed the path of the milky way down to the ocean below I saw the orange glow of the moon slowly start rising out of the water. This was the most beautiful place I had ever been; the most beautiful moment I had ever experienced; the way I perceived nature would never be the same. Just thinking back on it transports me back to the mental state I was in. The beauty of it, the calmness is like an instant meditation. I firmly believe that if everyone found a moment, a place, or a journey like this to connect to, we would be able to work out all the problems humanity faces.
Much like boats are vehicles to physical places, music is a vehicle to get to imaginary worlds, much like a kid daydreaming. Since I was a kid the soundtrack of my life, whether I liked it or not, has been the Grateful Dead. And for the first 14 years of my life each time the dead came on it would be met with an eye roll from everyone in my family except of course my dad. But as my music taste took a turn from 2000s rap and old school hip hop towards classic rock I began indulging in some of their studio work. And while enjoying short 5 minute songs is a long way from listening to 46 minute jams, it was a step towards where I am now: two years later and I can’t get enough of The Dead and their 30+ minute jams. The band has seeped into every portion of my life;even reshaping how I think of my surrounding environment. Last year I was lucky enough to attend a two night run at The Forum in Los Angeles. I had been expecting something completely different from any concert I had attended previously given how much I had been reading about The Dead but none of that could prepare me for the experience I ended up having.
First, there is nothing like pulling up to the parking lot at a Grateful Dead show. From the moment you get out of your car and walk to the makeshift bazaar named ‘Shakedown Street’ to the ending moment when you get in your car and drive away you are in for something wild and new –every time!. Somehow everyone knows where to walk and what to do. There is a collective energy swirling about, even in the parking lot. I think it starts with the fact that every show is played completely differently. By this I mean that no show has the same exact setlist and it’s incredibly rare for the band to play the same song on back to back nights. For me, however, the most life changing part is the collective energy everyone in the venue exhibits. I have never felt part of such a community. Isn’t it paradoxical that even though one is among a sea of absolute strangers they could still feel more at home than most other places? The pinnacle of this experience for me came at the encore of the second show when they played a song called “the weight” (which is actually a cover)! Hundreds of us concert goers, deadheads if you will, were in the walkway dancing, spinning, and twirling. As they sang the opening verse I also sang along knowing every line in the song –as did the whole crowd. As we did, the band and the collective concert community became one entity.Coming into the first chorus of the song I joined a fellow deadhead and started singing and dancing with them. It felt perfectly natural, like we had known each other for years even though we had just met; and because we shared a love of the same music so deeply it was in a sense accurate to say we were not strangers. As the song wrapped up we hugged and went our separate ways. In that instance, the energy we received from each other as a result of liking the same music was immeasurable. Upon leaving the venue I felt rejuvenated. I felt ready. For any upcoming challenges. Being able to connect to the collective energy, the togetherness, that was all around us that night is the key to being peaceful as a society.
If humans find a way to connect to the beauty of nature, as I do while sailing, and to many other humans, as I do while listening to the Grateful Dead, we will be able to come together, change for the better, and solve the mightiest of challenges that we all are facing.
