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Do you want to know the quickest way to feel seventeen again?
For me, it’s a concert.
There is something about live music that strips away the mental clutter. The to-do lists. The emails. The pressure. For a couple of hours, nobody is thinking about what happened yesterday or what’s waiting tomorrow. You’re simply there. Singing. Laughing. Remembering. Fully alive inside a moment you can’t get back.
A couple of weeks ago, Will and I went to Nashville with some dear friends for Alan Jackson’s final concert, and it was one of those nights I’ll remember for a long time. It was his farewell show so the artist lineup was unreal! Luke Combs, Thomas Rhett, George Strait—sooo many good ones! They weren’t just performing songs—they were telling stories. Then they’d step offstage, disappear into the crowd, and become fans again, singing every word with the rest of us.
As I looked around the stadium, I couldn’t stop thinking about how present everyone was. Thousands of people weren’t just hearing music. They were remembering first dances, high school summers, road trips, parents, grandparents, old friends, and seasons of life that had long since passed. One song somehow held the past and the present at the same time. It was as if everyone had collectively decided, “For these next few hours, I’m going to be fully here.”
Get all the notes and extra content at "The Living Room" on Substack.
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