Glastonbury: More Than A Festival It's A State of Mind
The anticipation and excitement of Glastonbury Weekend are unrivalled for festival fans like me. It all begins with the arrival of the ticket in the mail, and from there, the fever pitch builds. Naturally, a group chat ignites among us ticket-holders. We discuss what to bring, when to arrive, which bands we're most excited about seeing, and of course, the crucial question: What fantastic fancy dress ensembles are people putting together?
For me, Glastonbury is akin to Christmas for children (and some adults like my Christmas-enthusiast sister, who starts the season in early November). It's not just about the festival weekend itself; it's the exhilarating preparation that takes place beforehand. Crafting playlists of all the artists we plan to see, checking the five-day weather forecast, ensuring our tents are still inhabitable, and searching for those mysteriously elusive tent pegs—where do they vanish each year? The night before Glastonbury, sleep eludes me due to a mixture of excitement and a mental checklist of things I simply cannot forget (most of which I never end up using). This is my Christmas Eve, and I eagerly await my "Christmas Day."
As the day dawns, I find myself queuing outside the festival gates, stomach rumbling, wishing I had saved some snacks instead of devouring them all on the journey. In that line, a sudden panic grips me: "Where is my ticket?" Logically, I know I've checked a hundred times, and I still resemble my ID photo, yet the desperate desire for festival fun briefly spawns negative worries in my mind.
Eventually, my turn comes, and as I exchange my ticket for the coveted wristband, all my worries fade away. At that moment, Christmas has truly arrived. It feels as though Santa has delivered all the presents I asked for, and five days of joy await as a reward for being good all year long.
Upon entering Glastonbury, have you ever noticed how it becomes a magical world where egos are left at the gate? It's a realm where you can be anyone you want, without fear of judgment.
Why is it that our best selves seem to emerge only within a festival atmosphere? While some may attribute it solely to alcohol, I have encountered many teetotalers at Glastonbury who radiate the same happiness and lightness. I believe it's a mindset that takes shape at festivals like Glastonbury, and one that is available to us at all times, provided we have the tools to tap into it.
Let's examine what happens when you step into this magical "Glastonbury World." All worries about daily life vanish because everyone knows you're at Glastonbury—it's the ultimate do-not-disturb button.
For five days, you immerse yourself in nature, regardless of the weather. No rain or mud can deter you. You connect with new people, striking up conversations with anyone, knowing you share a common bond—having fun!
The meticulously planned schedule of bands you intended to see inevitably gets derailed within hours of arriving. You stumble upon some captivating music en route to the gig you initially planned to attend, and you decide to stay and savour the moment.
You're content to use wet wipes for cleanliness, or if you do queue for a shower, a brief communal one will suffice. You wear whatever your heart desires, and if that means the same outfit for five days straight, who cares?
If you happen to lose your friends, there's no need to panic. It's effortless to make new companions, even if it's only for the duration of a single performance.
Navigating the crowd from the Pyramid Stage to other stages during peak times becomes a game of squeezing through, trying not to trip because a beer can is stuck to the bottom of your wellies. And if it's too much to trek back to your tent, chances are you'll find someone who will let you crash in theirs.
Three years ago, I stumbled upon a quote that read, "I want to live in a music festival forever." I printed it out, framed it, and hung it on my wall. It served as a source of inspiration and a reminder that I could recreate the festival experience whenever I wished.
Like many festival-goers, I seem to possess an incredible, positive alter ego that emerges during festivals. She exudes happiness, friendliness, and a willingness to embrace hugs from strangers. She takes care of lost festival-goers who have indulged a bit too much. She dances with abandon, engages in conversations with anyone, goes with the flow, and seizes unexpected opportunities. It's as if her heart opens wide, perceiving only the goodness in people, while the music heals her soul. This led me to pose a question: "How can I summon my festival self whenever I desire?" The answer I received was simple: "Just ask her!"
So, that's precisely what I began doing. In situations that would typically frustrate or annoy me, I would pause and think, "What would my festival self do?" Instantly, my kind, joyous festival alter ego would appear, and life became much more enjoyable.
There have been instances where I've donned my headphones, blasted a great track, and danced down the street. Yes, onlookers may deem me eccentric, but the sheer joy it brings me is well worth it.
I've adorned my arm with glitter, a constant reminder of the festival's enchantment. For those who still wear their wristbands, each glimpse serves as a recall of the joy experienced at Glastonbury.
I make it a point to spend time in nature as often as possible, even if it's merely a trip to the park. One year, when my friends and I didn't secure tickets, we pitched our tents and created a mini Glastonbury right in our backyard.
The happiness of Glastonbury remains accessible at any given moment. If a song triggers memories of the festival, all the happy emotions rush back. Each day, we can choose to engage in activities or ask ourselves questions that summon our inner festival selves—it merely requires consistent action.
So, what can you do today to awaken your festival alter ego? Are you prepared to live in a perpetual music festival?
