The Healing Power of Music

A Birthday Celebration That Almost Wasn’t

This past weekend, Chuck and I made a last-minute decision to see Guster in Cleveland for his birthday. A noble gesture of love, sure, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t already preemptively regretting it. I’m known to impulsively buy concert tickets and then find every excuse not to go. This time, my body was already protesting. I was sore, I was tired, and honestly, the thought of putting on pants felt like a personal betrayal #iykyk.

The whole drive there, my internal monologue was less about the excitement of the show and more about logistics. Can I stand for three hours? Will my ankle swell? Am I too tired to enjoy this? Welcome to the joys of fibromyalgia. And yet, as the lights dimmed and the band hit the stage, every ache and ounce of exhaustion fell away. We had the best time.

Nostalgia as a Time Machine

Pushing through the pain for the things you love isn’t just worth it, it’s necessary. For me, live music has always been one of those things. Especially bands like Guster and the other 90s legends that wrote the soundtrack of my early years. The Cranberries, Dispatch, Sublime, 311, Weezer…they’re not just bands; they’re time machines. Somehow, their music transports me back to simpler days of the Village thrift store and extremely questionable hair choices. Anyone else a “model” for their best friend’s hair school projects? Oof!

It’s WILD to think those same bands are now celebrating 25- or even 30-year anniversaries. Nostalgia is one hell of a drug, and live music is the best way to get my fix. That’s why Chuck and I have made it a new tradition to hit up Oceans Calling, a music festival in Ocean City, Maryland, for the past two years. You gotta do what you gotta do to keep the good vibes alive.

Picture this: three days of trudging down the beach, standing for hours, and occasionally burying my legs in the cold, wet wet sand just to dull the pain. It’s brutal. But then Alanis busts out ‘You Oughta Know,’ Ben Harper takes us straight to fucking church, or Dave Matthews does… whatever it is Dave Matthews does, and suddenly, every ache fades away. In those moments, the music becomes the best medicine my body and soul could ask for. Music inspires in a way few other things can. It taps into memories and emotions you didn’t even realize you had, and as a creative, it’s the ultimate muse. It reminds me why I do what I do.

Inspiration is a Lifeline

So here’s my takeaway: Whatever your “live music” is, go do it. Even if it hurts. Even if you’re tired. Even if pants are involved. Especially if it’s something that inspires you. Because inspiration isn’t just a luxury…it’s a lifeline.