Sofar from my comfort zone
I almost didn’t go. Something had come up and my friend couldn’t make it and now I had two tickets to a Sofar concert at an undisclosed location with undisclosed artists. So I put up posts on different NY-based facebook groups, telling random strangers from the void that I have an extra ticket and would anyone like to come and we don’t even have to talk, I just don’t want the tickets to go to waste. But that didn’t work, and as I started to message a few friends to ask them instead, I realized something... tonight, I actually wanted to just be by myself. So I did.
I almost didn’t go but I’m glad I did. It was magic, just sitting there in the dimly lit floor beside everyone else, being serenaded by artists just three feet in front of me, in a rooftop setting so cozy even their parents were in the small audience. The dreamy Tavonna Miller and her jazzy, soulful voice sang about the delirious happiness of being in love. Elizabeth Moen blew me away with her country rock angst and the story behind “Planetarium,” an upbeat, weirdly comforting song about the multiverse, and how one can hope that in some other reality, things had gone better. And then there was Bailen the Band, a sibling folk act and their encore of “25,″ a softly sung love letter to oneself about growing up and looking back at the path you chose to take in life.
I almost didn’t go but I’m glad I did. I listened to musicians who couch surfed in Ireland for two months and lived out of their car so they can play their gigs. I made friends with an actress who moved to NYC when she was 18 and now stars in a comedy web series that I am now definitely going to follow. I was so intrigued by their tales and the adventures life had taken them on, and when they asked me about myself and I started babbling about moving to New York and wanting to work in Syria or Pakistan or Sudan someday, I realized... hey, my own story’s not so bad too. I’m interesting too.
I almost didn’t go but I’m glad I did. And I almost didn’t move to New York but I’m glad I did. Last week it brought me to the hallowed walls of the UN where I was reminded of why I want to do the things I do. And this week, it brought me to a tiny room in the middle of the city where the music made me realize that it’s okay and it’s beautiful to be vulnerable or angry or sad or sorry or hopeful or happy or human. I was reminded of how exciting we can make our lives be, and how even though there are pockets where I’ll sometimes find myself stuck in a mundane routine, there will also be nights when I’ll find myself being swept away by music in a rooftop miles away from home, by myself, being myself, in a room full of fascinating strangers, realizing that in a city where people relentlessly pursue their passion, I belong too.