3 Lessons In Humanity From The Mosh Pit
Powerful parables from a punk concert.
What if I told you that a mosh pit at a punk concert is not just chaos; it’s a profound display of the human condition?
For the uninitiated, moshing is an aggressive style of dancing in which participants slam and push into each other in a cleared area near the stage. When I found myself staring one in the face last week, my first reaction was fear of getting hurt. My first instinct was to move away fast, but my curiosity won out, and I stayed to watch.
It turned out to be like a human centrifuge, spinning out the pure essence of our shared humanity.
Losing yourself in something has incredible healing power.
Most of those in the middle of the pit were in a state of total surrender to the music and the moment.
They were so carried away in the joy of their favorite music that they forgot all their physical and emotional pain. Rather than being held back by fear, they embraced it. They seemed totally oblivious to the physical pain involved, even during some mighty collisions. Beyond that, there was a sense of release in their faces. Everyday problems were far away and engulfed in the present; every sense turned up to full volume.
The best escapism involves fully letting go.
You don't need reason or payment to care about others.
There’s a unique role to be played around the edges of a mosh pit.
It’s like a protective bumper that contains the chaos. You help those in the middle avoid falling over and keep the flow moving. You also act as a barrier to protect those nearby who aren’t participating from taking an unexpected hit. Not all folks in this role volunteered for it, yet they did it anyway. It was an act of service to the crowd as a whole.
When a community needs its people for the greater good, those called to help will typically step up. Most people are inherently good.
Taking your issues out on others ruins it for everyone.
Every now and again, someone would step in with aggression as their primary intent.
Despite what mosh pits look like on the surface, violence wasn't the primary vibe, at least not in this one. Participants would check in with each other between songs, making sure the rough-and-tumble level was OK with everyone. The group would adjust levels when women came in, and, in one touching moment, space and consideration were made for a younger kid who wanted the experience.
When an aggressor entered, he would seek each individual out and shove excessively hard in a way designed to assert dominance. Very quickly, folks stood to the side, and the proud rooster was left to strut around on his own as “the winner.” With nobody left to ‘conquer’, he would go, and normal service would resume.
It’s clear that these folks were prioritizing taking out internal emotions they needed to vent on others. Maybe other mosh pits are more this style, but even giving the benefit of the doubt in that way, there was a selfish misjudgment of the collective energy.
Dealing with your issues externally first can be a colossal vibe-killer to those on the other end of them.
I’m glad I satisfied my curiosity and stayed to observe after the pit formed right in front of me. It was people-watching at its finest—the type that makes you feel so much better about humanity afterward.
As I sit here writing this, I am tinged with regret that I didn’t have the courage to go and experience it firsthand. Maybe next time.
For now, I’m happy to share what I felt and role-model the rewards of being willing to suspend my judgment.
How will you think differently the next time you’re in an unfamiliar situation that you assume is bad?
PS: If you want to experience this for yourself, Green Day has limited availability for the rest of its Saviors Tour across the US tour. 5/5 would recommend.
Great piece and flash back to the 90’s festivals I would attend. Perfect depiction of the mosh pit. The energy and sense of community inside and great people watching from the outside. They will always be that one person that tries to ruin everything.