We all desire to experience something greater than ourselves. I think that’s why we go to concerts.

Last Friday, I took a trip down to Charlotte with my friend Jill Nance, to see what ended up being the last stop of Coldplay’s Viva La Vida tour in the U.S. The concert was amazing. Coldplay delivered an incredible experience, both musically and visually. But there was a little surprise that made the night all that more special. And it happened like this…

When we first found our seats we were a little disappointed. We were off to the side and far from the stage. Not the seats we thought we had.

And there was this huge box right in front of us.

I made a comment about the box blocking our view, and the lady sitting next to us leaned over and said, “Don’t complain. You won’t be disappointed.”

She spoke like someone who knew something we didn’t. She had this subdued excitement, but she wasn’t subduing it very well. Then I noticed there was a foot switch on the box. Rumors spread. Anticipation grew. There was chatter. Interrogations. Tweets. Then suddenly, life was in Technicolor…

And it was all Yellow…

Halfway into the show, while we were all tweeting and losing ourselves in the Strawberry Swing, I stopped for a moment to contemplate the similarities between rock concerts and religion. Something about the way the guy next to me with the Bud Light was lifting his hands.

Then there was commotion by the box. Some roadies next to us began to lift tarps, revealing a piano and guitars. The crowd around us started to stir, and suddenly the box in front of us lit up, and two roadies lifted the piano onto it. Coldplay finished playing Strawberry Swing, stepped off the main stage, and walked all the way over to our little box.

The entire band performed two songs five feet in front of us!

I don’t even remember what the first song was. The second was a piano-solo rendition of The Hardest Part. Standing next to a professional photographer, who at this point was finding it unbearable that all she could bring into the show was a cheap point and shoot, I tried my best to capture the moment via cell phone.

And then I got video of Chris Martin shaking Jill’s hand…

It’s an interesting thing to me that Chris actually looked bigger on that little stage. It was the way the energy of the crowd surrounded him. In that moment, he was larger than life. I kept having to tell myself he’s just a guy. More talented and harder working is all. But the music has a way of tricking you.

I am convinced that the music and spectacle we create are reflections of something greater, something we can’t quite put our finger on. It’s beyond any one person. We are drawn to it. I use to think those girls at The Beatles concerts – the sobbing, screaming fans that maul each other for a closer look – were ridiculously stupid. And they are. But in the same way we all are. We are all drawn to something greater than ourselves.

I will not judge them again.