This is the story of how my mind ruined THE greatest night of my life.

Ok, maybe it wouldn’t have been the greatest night ever. I have no way of knowing that since I can’t go back and do it over, this time without my mind getting in the way.

This is the story about how my mind ruined the experience I anticipated more than anything else: seeing Tom Petty at Red Rocks.

I’ve had many desires over the course of my life, but there are few things I’ve NEEDED to do. My bucket list literally contained 3 things: go to all seven continents, something so insignificant I can’t even remember now, and see Tom Petty at Red Rocks.

If you asked me 10 years ago what my goal was for life, I’d tell you: to die happy and to see Tom Petty at Red Rocks.

I’m hoping that by this point you get the point. For years, I wanted to see Tom Petty at Red Rocks more than almost anything I ever wanted. It wasn’t convenient, so I kept putting it off. Until 2017.

In 2017 I knew with every fiber of my being that I had to go that year. Never mind that his concert was inconvenient AF. It was on Memorial Day and I had to work the following day, so there was no way to see him without using one of my 9 measly vacation days. Not only that, I was spending Friday - Monday of the same weekend in Philly with friends. I lived in New Orleans, and Red Rocks is in Colorado. Oh, and I didn’t have a ticket.

None of that mattered to me though. This was my year to see him.

I couldn’t wait any longer and knew it was my destiny; I’d get a ticket if I just showed up. So I booked a flight from Philly to Denver that Monday, and a flight from Denver to New Orleans the next day. I’d be in Denver for less than 24 hours, during which time I’d have to procure a ticket. But I knew it would work out. And it did!

The Facebook message came through a few hours before the show: someone had a last-minute change of plans and therefore had two tickets for me. Perfect, because I wanted to take the friend who was hosting me for the night. (This would have scammer written all over it these days, but back in 2017 it was totally legit.)

My friend and I got to Red Rocks early enough to have a beer in the parking lot before heading in to grab another. My present self would skip that part. I now understand that alcohol has the potential to take away from an experience, and don’t want to be anything but fully present on the most exciting days of my life. Back then not drinking at a concert didn’t even cross my mind.

When Tom Petty came on I was absolutely ecstatic: the moment I’d waited for longer than I could remember was finally here. And it felt GOOD.

Then my friend asked an innocent question: “Do you think something is off with the sound?”

I tuned in to see if I could hear what she was talking about. This was my first mistake (or the second, if you count the beers.. but 2017 Bara wouldn’t see it that way). When you look for problems you tend to find them… so I highly suggest NOT looking for problems on the supposed best day of your life.

I didn’t have that awareness back then, so I looked… and of course, it’s what I found. The sound wasn’t that bad, but it also wasn’t perfect. And Tom Petty at Red Rocks should be perfect! My inner Judge screamed that this was wrong.

Then I made my second mistake: I listened to the voice in my head that said that this injustice was correctable, by ME.

Now that I understand the Positive Intelligence framework, it’s clear that my inner Controller was taking over. Back then, however, all I “knew” was that I had to do whatever I could to inform Red Rocks of the problem so they’d know to fix the sound. As if the band and the amphitheater weren’t stacked with their own audio engineers. Can I blame this part on the beer?

Recognizing the power of social media at the time, I took the most reasonable route I could think of. I commented on their Facebook, and then I did something that was a great use of my time at my dream concert: I CREATED a Twitter account, and asked Red Rocks and Tom Petty to fix the sound, in my first ever Tweet.

Guess what happened next?

Tom Petty kept playing, and everyone else (including my friend) kept having fun. I tried to do the same, recognizing that at this point there was nothing else I could do. But I had no mindfulness tools back then. My mind kept looking for proof that the sound was STILL bad. And I kept anxiously checking my phone, to see if they responded to my tweet. (Shockingly, they never did, despite my weight of 0 followers.)

I enjoyed the show as much as I could, but not nearly to the extent I would have if my expectations weren’t so high. If it were any old show I doubt that I’d have been bothered by slightly imperfect sound. But this was supposed to be “the concert of my life”. I’d invested a lot of time and money to be there, and I wanted to make sure it was worth it. To me, at the time, that meant having perfect sound.

When Tom Petty died later that year, I knew I had made the right choice in taking the journey to see him. I was grateful that I prioritized that, and yet incredibly disappointed in myself for how I handled myself once I got there.

I’ve been thinking about that experience a lot lately, as I’ve been gearing up to see Taylor Swift.

It will be the second time in my life I’ve flown somewhere for a mere 24 hours. While I have a ticket this time, the 24-hour journey seems similarly extravagant, so those memories have bubbled up. Especially because I’ve spent a lot of time on social media, observing what others have shared about their experiences from previous stops on the tour. Many of them spent uncomfortable amounts of money on their tickets and proceeded to ruin the experience for themselves.

Like one woman who detailed the “worst day” of her life.

They proceeded to describe what I believe most people would think of as a pretty good day. But they had spent an extraordinary amount of money on their tickets, expecting it to be one of the greatest experiences of their life. It appeared as though they spent the concert trying to justify the money that they spent on their seats. Doing so put them in a judgmental state of mind, and instead, they kept finding reasons they made a mistake.

I can’t change my Tom Petty experience, but I can learn from it. Now that my flights and ticket have been purchased, you certainly won’t find me trying to justify the price.

Money spent on an experience becomes a sunk cost as soon as it’s been spent (except for rare occasions that include a money-back guarantee). There’s nothing to gain by proving to yourself that it was - or wasn’t - worth it. Regardless of the answer, the money has been spent. You do stand to lose though. By trying to prove to yourself that it was worth it you’re putting your Judge on high alert. It might not limit itself to looking for the pros, and you take the risk of it honing in on the cons.

I’m not perfect, so it is possible that my Judge will show up at the concert. If it does, I vow to say hi. Literally. When I say “Hi, Judge” (usually in my head) he tends to go away. Then I’ll follow the process the positive intelligence program has engrained in me. I’ll bring my awareness back to my body, likely by focusing on the sensation of my feet on the ground. If that alone doesn’t bring me back to full presence and enjoyment, I’ll then ask myself how I can see the situation as a gift.

POST-CONCERT UPDATE

The 1 friendship bracelet I decided not to trade

I had an absolute blast at the concert, and am extremely grateful I traveled to LA to experience it with friends. My mantra for the night was “this night is flawless”, a line from Taylor Swift’s song “Enchanted”. I was committed that I would consider the night flawless, regardless of how it went. Even if it included getting thrown up on by a drunk teenager. (I did then worry I may have manifested getting myself thrown up on; fortunately that didn’t become the case.)

If I were to evaluate the details of the night, I could find a lot wrong with it. The sound wasn’t great from our seats, but that was ok because I wasn’t there for the sound. We couldn’t see everything from our seats in the 300 section; but I wasn’t there for the stage. The sequins on my dress kept getting stuck so I’d have to pause from dancing to untangle, but it also made me feel like the most beautiful person in the entire world.

I didn’t realize that I did have one big expectation until it didn’t get met. I had envisioned myself having an absolute blast during “Enchanted” and recording the song on video to share with this story. But I was at concessions when the song started. Frustrated at first, I laughed when I decided the Universe was telling me “you really don’t need anything for this night to be flawless”. It was right.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Hi! I’m Bara. I’m a transformational life coach and speaker. I help people transcend limiting beliefs, master the art of transforming negative thoughts & emotions, and make happiness a habit.

I do this both through one-on-one coaching and a sliding scale group PQ program that will enable you to make happiness a habit in just 8 weeks. My next PQ cohort is starting soon! Book time here to discuss either offer or feel free to email me at bara@baraco.org if you prefer.

The Soundtrack of Regret: How My Mind Sabotaged the Greatest Night of My Life