Shared human experiences and collective overwhelm.

Today I was driving and “Sweet Caroline” came on.

Woah, feels.

I was right back at an Iowa State football game, swaying and holding on tight to my friends. Holding on so tight.

Hands touching hands.

I realized in that moment how much I’m really missing the shared experiences that sporting events and concerts bring. The closeness. The sweat. The noise.

After all we’ve been through the last 7 months, the last thing I expected was to be overwhelmed with feelings about missing college football.

I don’t even really like football unless it’s cyclone football. I also don’t like crowds.

But it’s not the football I’ve been missing the last 7 months since this pandemic began. It’s the shared human experiences. It’s that connection you feel with thousands of strangers in an instant. It’s a connection I’ve only felt in two places: Iowa State football games and at concerts.

You’re in this crowd but you’re all experiencing this major thing together. And boom.

Collective overwhelm.

Reaching out, touching me, touching you.

Now, I know that Iowa State isn’t the only school to play “Sweet Caroline” at a football game. But when that song comes on I can still feel the feeling of being so connected to everyone around me.

It’s lonely right now. Well, I’ve been feeling pretty lonely.

Look at the night and it don't seem so lonely.

But we are still connected, through a different kind of shared experience. A painful one. A lonely one. A pandemic-y-6-feet-apart-one.

One where the only way out is through.

It’s still collective overwhelm. Just a different kind.

And the only way we’ll get through this is together.

Hurting runs off my shoulders

Text someone today that you’ve shared a football game with. Or a concert with. Reminisce a bit. Find some old pictures. Make a plan to do it again when it’s safe.

And until we feel those larger shared human experiences together again, create some small shared human experiences.

Plan a Facetime coffee date. Sit on a blanket and look at the water. Go for a run and talk on the phone with someone else who is on a run. Sit in a driveway. Write a letter. Read a book with someone on the other side of the country.

All that small stuff adds up. And maybe you’re not as alone as you feel (** note to self)

Good times never seemed so good.

Hugs.