"When we hear someone else sing about the jagged edges of heartache or the unspeakable nature of grief, we immediately know we're not the only ones in pain. The transformative power of art is in this sharing." Brene Brown in Braving the Wilderness.
I was still a child when my heart was torn with the grief of Skeeter Davis singing, "Don't they know it's the end of the world. It ended when you said, goodbye." Conversely, I remember the thumping in my heart when I was only eleven in 1962. I was in the Cow Palace in San Francisco for the worldwide conference of the church I was a part of. The pageantry of people from over 100 countries dressed in the clothes that represented their nation dazzled my young eyes. Then we all began to sing together. I still feel the thrill, that sense of belonging and being part of something bigger than me.
There is something powerful in agreement. There is excitement at a basketball game when the entire arena is packed, but that energy is compounded exponentially when that team is scoring and the place explodes with the roar of the crowd's approval. It's pleasant to enjoy a hilarious comedy that you watch on Netflix, but how great is that feeling when an entire theater of people burst out in laughter together. I watched Schindler's List by myself. I'm sure it was years after the rest of you did. How can you not cry at the combination of human suffering juxtaposed against one man's heroism? Yet, what it caused me to remember is coming out of the theater in the 70s after watching the Hiding Place with a large group of strangers sharing the same sorrow.
We were created for community and music and other art creates a platform for us to share both pain and celebration. We were not meant to be alone when we cry or when we are rejoicing.
Our son wrote two songs on his first Satori album that contrasts these two emotions. Finding Your Place and Celebration.
Author: Martha Borth