Appreciating a Disaster

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A few weeks ago, I went to a concert with my mom. It was a disaster.

Being the odd person I am, I loved it. Not because of the quality of the music, which was, by any objective standard, quite low. But because of what that concert helped me realize: there is a lot to learn from something going wrong, and there are important choices to make when that happens.

The artist had developed a cult following in the 60s and 70s in the folk rock scene, pushing the boundaries of pop culture. Other than brief pauses, he never stopped creating music and touring, struggling to maintain the cultural relevance he once had but sticking to it nonetheless.

Like many fans who found him in his heyday, my mom didn't keep up with his musical evolution. On the way to the show, my mom said, "I just hope he plays the songs I know him for." The first thing he said, after a few minutes of heavy breathing into the mic while he set up his instruments, was, "Ya know, I've been playing the same stuff for decades. I'm just not going to do that anymore. Tonight is going to be something new." My poor mother.

He proceeded to play for over an hour with technology he didn't quite know how to use with songs it seemed he hadn't yet fully written. He'd hit a wrong note, which would then be looped over and over and over for the next ten minutes, layered on top of other missed notes and cues.

I thought about the situation and came to the conclusion that I had three choices:

• I could fold my arms and pout about being at the show
• I could take out my phone and rudely do something else
• I could appreciate what was going on around me and see what I could learn from it

To use the word I've keyed in on lately, there was value in taking in what was happening at that show.

I could appreciate the fact that he was really trying to push himself as a musician. He wasn't satisfied with playing the same old stuff with the same old basic instruments. I respect that.

I could appreciate the decision to tenaciously push through, even when the show wasn't going according to plan. Weaker folk would've walked off stage.

I could appreciate the audience, most of whom stayed until the unharmonious end, wanting to spend time with the legend regardless of the circumstances.

I could appreciate my mom's disappointment, and we could turn it into an unexpectedly funny memory, which we could laugh about for a long time to come.

When we think about finding our optimal value, we probably don't think enough about the options we have when we are in a suboptimal situation.

I spoke to a stellar Warrior-Scholar Project alum recently who is being underutilized in her job. She's wonderfully talented, so if she left this job today she could find another job by tomorrow.

I think her choices are strikingly similar to the ones I had at that concert:

• She could fold her arms and complain about being in that situation, regardless of whose fault it is that she's there
• She could actively decide to do something else
• She could use it as a learning opportunity to explore what's really going on in that work environment, which could provide critical insight for her burgeoning career

Rahm Emanuel famously quipped, "Never let a serious crisis go to waste." I'd offer that the same thing goes to bad situations of all types, even if they aren't actually crises.

If you look hard enough, there's always something to learn.