Once there was a way, to get back home…Welp. I did it again. I had an experience that broke me open and I’m transforming again. Funny how that happens, isn’t it? Last night my family and I went to see the penultimate performance of Sir Paul McCartney’s Got Back tour. Friends, I saw a Beatle in real life. Whoa. Yeah. I think I now begin to understand the fervor that was Beatlemania. Last night I felt what I imagine was about 1/4 of it — I mean, mathematically that must be true since it was just one Beatle. Let me tell you the tale… We arrived at the venue early, because Chuck - our family’s Chief Fun Officer - planned it all out to make sure we had convenient parking, early access to the best merch, amazing seats and a happy family. After waiting in our seats patiently for about an hour, Sir Paul McCartney walked out on the stage. The energy changed. I would guess there was somewhere around 15,000 people in attendance. The eruption of sheer joy at seeing a beloved icon appear in person was overwhelming to say the least. But I was so sure I wouldn’t be one of those people who loses their head. But I did. I totally lost it. He opened his mouth and sang “Help!” and I bursted into tears. Not just that watery eye stuff, full on ugly crying. During the entire song I just sang and cried and let all the emotions have their space. Okay, so let’s talk a little bit more about why this emotional hurricane happened. I promise, it’s not just because of Paul McCartney, as amazing as he is. I’ve been a Beatles fan since I was a little kid. Into my teenage years, it was a huge part of my identity. You can ask anyone who knew me then and they’d say, “Oh, Jess? Yeah, huge Beatle-freak!” So part one of why this was so emotional was that a dream came true for me. I was experiencing Beatles music, performed by a Beatle, in real life. Did you know, that the first concert I ever went to was a Beatles tribute band? I digress. Let’s get back on point. The next thing that is important to understand is that I have this thing where anytime I witness or experience beauty, excellence or shared humanity, I am moved to tears. To be honest, it happens a lot. Which is a good thing because that means there is a lot of beauty and excellence in the world to witness. I used to be so embarrassed by this thing. I’d hide my tears. No more. I just flow through the emotions and witness what is happening within me and without me. So, that’s part two of why last night was so emotional. Literally feeling the music in my body, watching the band perform, seeing all the other beautiful humans enjoy this shared experience and most importantly seeing Chuck, Hank and Everett having the best time, well, it’s all too much. The third component of this emotional gut punch was all the memories of shared experiences and appreciation of Beatles music with the people I have loved and who have loved me in my life. At one point I thought, “Man, I want to tell my stepdad, Steve, about this. He would be so giddy to hear about it.” Alas, I cannot, for he is no longer with us in this realm. Similarly, I thought of an old friend, Shawn Russell, when Paul sang Maybe I’m Amazed. Remembering when Shawn helped me pick out my Fender Jazz bass and taught me to play that song and jammed with me. He’s also gone, so I can’t tell him how amazed I was. I thought of people who are still here too. My sister Sarah, whose birthday it was yesterday, when they played Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da. My friend Gregg — who wisely said to me once — “If you get a chance to see Paul in concert, GO! Do not worry about the details. Just go!” And at one point or another, I held you all in my heart and wished for love, peace and healing in our world. (I really did. Several times, in fact. I do love you all so dearly.) Finally, the not so pleasant reason for all the emotion was my frazzled nervous system. I love to have these massively powerful experiences, but they come at a cost. Simultaneously, I would be fully rapt in the feeling of the moment, enjoying every note, and also discover that my body had clenched itself up so tight that it started to hurt. Fingernails digging into my own skin. Mentally, I was fine. I didn’t have any of the old familiar anxious thoughts, but clearly the anxiety still lives in my body. Deep breaths would help to loosen it up, but there’s still something about a crowd that big + loud noises + flashing lights that my body just can’t handle. And that is okay. I can hold and accept that this is part of the Jess Experience here on Earth. As we got in the car and were on our way home, I knew that I found a new integration of myself that now understands what it means to Let It Be. That’s the transformation I’ve been on the brink of for so long. Learning to trust and accept myself as-is and be fully present. I’ve found my way home. Thanks for reading. Hope you have a very happy holiday season, filled with love, lots of food, and friends & family galore! Peace and love, Jess P.S. - Bonus points for anyone who can call out the several Beatles lyrics or song titles woven throughout this piece. Where my Beatle nerds at?
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