Mosh Pits & Moments of Clarity

Chris Hawkinson
Feb 23
3 min read

There is a moment of clarity that can only be felt when you fear for your life. The pit is alive with all the anger and angst and fear of a hundred strangers. It's raw emotion and you're at the eye of the storm.

The majority of concerts in my life have been fast, angry, punk, hardcore and rock & roll shows that some my age would scoff at. Lets be honest I'm generally a couple decades (likely more) older than the crowds at these shows. Is it "responsible" for me to take a night off from all other responsibilities to drive to a dive, get in the crowd and wait for the moment when I can no longer stand it before running face first into the pit? Was it a co-worker look at you curious why you're sore from last nights show? Or maybe the nay-sayer who drops "aren't you too old for this?" Maybe the partner who wakes up at 2:00am as you haunt the halls in search of a micro-wave burrito and a shower?

As an aging punk rock kid, now father, with more angst than I know what to do with; the middle finger response is what I feel but not how I respond. The hard truth is most people just don't get it and they never will... again. Something in side of them has died. The moments between standing in line, and handing over my ticket are where even I question it. At every show there is also a moment of joy when the band plays that first chord and the memory of a life that once was returns with a force unmatched by any sport. In that moment you are that excited kid standing in the crowd once again. Wide-eyed, with young knees, and fire in your soul.

The first song gets me every time.

I say "I'm tired, I'm just going to watch." as my friends look at me and laugh. They've come to understand that if they are standing too close they are likely to be pulled in with me, or end up covered in the overpriced beer I sipped once before throwing it enthusiastically as I charged through the crowd on my way to the promise land. The pit is alive with the anger and angst and fear of a hundred strangers. It's an ocean of raw emotion and you're standing in the eye of the storm.

I've come to expect that moment of clarity that can only be found when you fear for your life.

The thought "I fucked up." usually lands as soon as your body hits the ground but is dashed as quickly as it came. Ten hands grab you, as if some deity is pulling you from the depths and placing you on your feet. Everything moves in slow motion a moment before you're getting hit again. It's fight or flight and the only way is through until the last note rings out.

Everything that follows is a blur of hands and feet, and fists, and sweat. The odor is pungent. Your only option is to move, and do it fast. You scramble to stay on your feet for the next minute or so. You scream out the lyrics until hoarse. You put your arm around a stranger an share all the feelings as you now traverse this battleground as one.

And in that moment I feel alive.

In the words of Fat Mike: