A Bruce Springsteen Miracle in Brooklyn

The photograph, Simonetti’s Cleaners & Bike, always reminds me of my hometown, as does the song, Out in the Street.  In the photo, it is a sunny day and the bikers are having a leisurely ride on local streets. In the song, the lyrics talk about “out in the street I walk the way I want to walk…talk the way I want to talk. In the crowd I feel at home.”  During the pandemic, that feeling of being together was lost. Now we can come together again. And even though we missed being with people, we didn’t realize just how deprived we felt until the restrictions were lifted. Even being among strangers feels good – normal and freeing. There is vibration within and around all of us, even if we don’t consciously recognize it. We have all had the experience of walking into a room and knowing, without hearing a word, that an argument has taken place between the two people standing there. We can all feel and read energy.

A dear friend gave me the gift of a ticket to a Springsteen concert in Brooklyn. Bruce sang Out in the Street and (it seemed) all 19,000 people were singing with him. It was magical – all of us were singing the same exact sounds joyously. We were lifting each other up. That is a powerful healing. No matter our political views, religious affiliations, gender, or race, in that moment we were all in sync. We were One. It seemed that there was nothing but happiness in that huge venue.

My friend and I were on our way out and we couldn’t find the car key. We frantically looked all around our seats and backtracked to the bathroom we had used earlier. Nothing. But my friend, who is the eternal optimist (yet had little hope – it was such a small key, such a huge stadium), suggested we try the lost and found. Someone had turned the key in! We got in the car and drove home, marveling with gratitude that a stranger took the trouble to hand in the key. It was a miracle.

In reality, that kindness signifies our essential oneness. In that mass of people, all singing as one, someone coming across a key in a huge space went out of her way to take care of strangers. I imagine it was because she knew how it would feel to be stuck in Brooklyn with no means of transportation, late at night.

When two strings on different instruments are plucked at the same time, they end up vibrating at the same speed. The people in that stadium were vibrating together, pulling one another upward. In other words, love is catching.

I am grateful to that unknown person who showed us kindness and love. It always creates a miracle.