I know. I KNOW. I’ve written enough about how much I love Beyonce. [Sidenote: I understand that the last ‘e’ in her name has an accent over it, but I am currently typing on a PC, and do not understand how to insert said accent. Typos make my skin crawl, so I feel the need to be upfront about this terrible mistake. B, forgive me.] I’ve posted a few songs to the blog, and often tweet about Girls running the world (GIRLS!), and generally shout about her awesomeness in real life and cyberspace alike. If you’ve never seen me perform the Run The World choreography or explain my theory on how she reclaimed the stanky leg for women worldwide, you should feel neglected. Or happy. I’m really not sure.
But just bear with me for a second. Last night, I got myself in bed at 9 PM [yogis get up early, don’t hate] and felt wide awake. Loud Indian voices pouring into my room from downstairs weren’t helping. So instead of improving my brain capacity through reading or writing, I made myself a playlist and played Angry Birds. Whatever.
The playlist was inspired by a need to listen to some Avett Brothers, starting with their live version of “November Blue” (the first of their songs I ever heard, and to this day one of my favorites). Following that was some Bret Dennen, some Les Miz, some Mark Knopfler, half the tracks from a CD my high school boyfriend made for me (hey, it was good), and of course – some Beyonce.
I laid on my back in my little Indian bed, covered in a paper-thin sheet, and fist-pumped emphatically to track 11 from her most recent album: “I Was Here”. I may or may not have listened to it four times. I couldn’t help it; the song evokes a physical reaction for me. I sort of do this thing where I look like I’m conducting an orchestra or playing an accordion and I’m pretty sure I make lots of embarrassing faces while doing so. I flashed back to all the mornings that I drove from yoga to my office in Charlotte, blasting this song, reminding myself that there would soon be more to my life than a cubicle and pencil skirts. That there was something inside me that wanted to experience the world, that there were big things in my future: not fame or riches but meaning. Passion and appreciation.
I’ve never really been fanatical about musicians. I remember being an awkward middle schooler when the boy band craze swept through our nation and our TV sets, MTV showing rows and rows of girls crying and holding posters that professed their love for Joey Fatone. It never made any sense to me. (Let’s be real here. His last name is FAT ONE. I just don’t understand the appeal. And don’t get me started on Chris Kirkpatrick’s bleached whiteboy dreadlocks. Such a waste of a good Irish last name.) But for some reason, listening to this song and watching the video (linked below) — I get it.
Well, I still don’t get it, but I feel it. The total and utter inspiration by, and connection to, the person singing that song that you can’t stop listening to, can’t stop thinking about, want to grip onto with your fingers and your whole heart. The feeling of YES. That somebody understands. I think of all of the girls screaming over the Beatles, the girls I saw sobbing on TV when I was in first grade and Kurt Cobain died, all those crazies whom I’ve never understood. This song makes me want to smile and cry and run off and see the world and do something that makes a difference. It makes me trust that that thing will come. That I will find it. As long as I keep searching.
And yes, I am aware that Beyonce is a pop culture icon, and it’s so typical to love her, but I just don’t give a shit! Have you ever listened to her sing or seen her dance or heard her speak? Homegirl is SMART and GIFTED and a ROLE MODEL and she just had a baby. A baby! WITH JAY Z! She also loves Jesus. If I ever have a little girl, I will be fine with her dancing along to mommy’s old Beyonce CDs. (I’ll hide my Lil Wayne with the booze and the Photospecialties pictures. I promise.)
Have you ever wanted to pursue an opportunity so much that it made you want to scream, made you want to walk up to someone’s office and knock on their door and just cry about how badly they need to let you do something? The knowledge that you may fail, the fear that goes along with that knowledge, the persistence in doing it anyway? The feeling of being completely lost, knowing there is something out there for you, but not knowing when – or if – or where – you will ever find it? This song speaks to the part of me that is experiencing that right now. It speaks to everything.
So I just wrote this lengthy rant, but all I want you to do is watch this video. It gives me the chills and makes me teary. Please? Just do it.