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In my late teens and early twenties, I could often be found in dark, smoke-filled clubs, hanging out with my friends and listening to alternative rock music. Typically, the band members played loud, angry songs and sported earrings and spiked hair.
At one of these performances, the band actually turned their backs to the audience as they played. At the time, I thought this was great. They were being themselves, and I was being myself. We were all expressing our frustration with a world that just didn’t seem to make sense.
However, after these concerts were over, I usually found myself asking, “What’s missing?” It wasn’t a difficult question to answer. For one thing, there was no sense of community. Sure, people were all in the same place together, but the focus wasn’t on the people. It was on the music—or on partying. When I walked away from those shows, I felt worse, not better.
Despite the energy of the performances, I had gained nothing. I was neither revived nor renewed. Instead, I felt depressed. I hadn’t been challenged…
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