Nothing But Now
The universe continues to offer me teachers in all forms. One recent teacher was Rob Thomas. Thomas, a musician and lead singer of Matchbox 20, performed an acoustic concert in New Jersey this past May. I've been lucky to see him perform several times when he's toured as a solo artist, including this latest one.
At the start of the show, Thomas invited us to relax and enjoy. He claimed we'd spend the next two hours together; and with good humor, reminded us, since he already had our money, we might as well settle in for the duration, and hopefully we might "create and share a moment together."
Throughout the evening, Thomas made connections with folks in the audience, responding to us, as we delighted in him. He sang, played guitar, sat at the piano, and told lots of stories - a truly scrumptious show, moment by moment.
The second to last song of the evening, Smooth, a Grammy award winning song, featured on Carlos Santana's Supernatural album, inspired a tale of its own. With both respect and jocularity, Thomas spoke of the moment he first met Santana. He described the Latin music legend, dressed in a bold yellow suit and yellow cap, "he looked like a banana." As we giggled, Thomas swaggered into the song, slowly making his way back and forth across the stage.
When he reached my side of the theater, something extraordinary happened. We consciously "created and shared a moment." For inexplicable reasons, the person seated directly in front me, and the audience member in front of her, were absent from their assigned chairs. My ticket afforded me a spot seven rows from the stage. When Thomas came my way, he paused - looked directly into my eyes - creating a moment of enjoyable and undeniable connection, while continuing to sing (and even dance a bit). He crooned for the whole audience, and yet, it became our moment. I suspect he sought out someone engaged in the experience, rather than trying to capture a photo of him with a smart phone. Knowing that in no way lessened the intensity.
I imagine this sounds like some crazed fan fare. Oddly, no matter how I attempt to explain this experience, the story always has that tint to it. I assure you, though, we shared a human to human spark. Not fan to superstar, not man to woman in any sort of seductive way, just two people acknowledging each other in a crowd, and making a connection. This fleeting encounter lasted only five or six lines of the song, but it was long enough for the folks in the front rows to turn around to see who Thomas was singing to.
When I met my husband, Mark, after the show (we sat separately to get the best possible seats), we high-fived with excitement about our experiences. I shared my "Rob Thomas moment," and Mark reminded me that something similar happened between me and Adam Levine at a Maroon 5 concert last year. I'd forgotten. That instance couldn't have been more different. Levine's style felt like looking through me, rather than being with me.
I explained the Rob Thomas incident on Facebook, and received both funny and supportive replies. One, from my friend, Jamie, recalled witnessing this same sort of musician/audience contact years before at a Marc Cohn show. Again, similar, and yet distinctly different. In that case, I felt like a focal point. I just happened to be sitting in Cohn's direct line of sight at the Regatta Bar. With such a small venue, I imagine he found it easier to look straight at me, rather than toggle his head around the room, while playing his keyboard (much to Jamie's consternation!).
Ironically, a week prior to the Rob Thomas concert, I watched Kevin Spacey interviewed while promoting his documentary, NOW about a company of traveling actors performing "Richard III" around the world. Spacey said, "...two reasons why we call the film 'NOW'...it's the first word of the play...and because now is what theater is...it's this moment and then it's gone." That describes my experience exactly.
In fact, we only ever have right NOW, and each moment matters. As you read this, my "now moment" occurs in the jungle of Costa Rica, as I prepare to welcome the "Embracing Magic Retreat" participants. May you enjoy your right now...and now...and now....
With love in the moment,
Joanne Lutz