Have you ever been in one of those crowded rooms so full of energy that the crowd is literally electric?
Maybe it was at your favorite concert, growing up. Or maybe it was earlier this year, where you let that collective sense of shared energy, inspiration and one single mind take over, amidst a sea of sparkles and smiles and friendship bracelets. Moments like that are so charged and powerful that they can convert strangers into friends, or trick you into believing (even for just a second) that anything is possible.
Or maybe you felt it this weekend, at the New York City Marathon, where for some inexplicable reason, watching tens of thousands of people quite literally deplete themselves of whatever power they have left somehow manages to create a bubble of goodliness around an entire city, if only for 12 hours. Maybe you found yourself suddenly shouting the same runner's name as the person next to you, your voices joining in an impromptu rhythm, creating a new anthem on the spot: “Keep going, keep going, keep going!” Where did that serendipitous power come from?
Or maybe you were also one of the 1,000 people in the audience with me at Suffs the musical last night. If you were, I hope your mother knew you were there—because it was rare. (And I know I’ll remember it all too well…) Maybe you also felt the collective gasp of possibility wrap around you like a cozy blanket on a Sunday afternoon.
Maybe your pulse quickened steadily throughout the show, and you found yourself gripping the person next to you as you both took in the raw, historical reality of the sacrifices made by so many women, over so many decades. The things they had to endure to make it possible for you to wear that “I Voted” sticker yesterday. That women had to starve themselves in jail for you to have the right to show up and be able to tell your own daughters, “I voted for a girl today.” (I didn’t know that part of our story before. Did you?)
If the people in that theater had parted ways at the show’s end without ever setting eyes on a TV last night, I truly believe we could have poured out of the aisles and into the streets, sparking a new kind of revolution. But instead what happened was this. The show ended, and one by one, we lit up our phones. We saw a few numbers that made us feel a funny sort of dissonance on the inside. And we did the thing we did before, which is feel a lot of confusing things—all at once. Call it fear, panic, paranoia, or dread. But underneath, maybe just one word will do: powerless.
I get the temptation to drift back there. Really, I do. But we aren’t powerless, at least not entirely. Individually, our power may be limited, but magic happens when we gather, and when we invite others to share in our own contagious energy source.
So where does that leave us today?
Well, today, I encourage you to resist the temptation to shirk off on your own. Bad vibes are contagious (and seem to spread faster the more time you spend alone, scrolling on your phone). But good vibes? They’re just as infectious—if you show up to catch them. And once you feel that spark, it’s hard to shake.
If last night proved anything, it’s that power exists in groups, even with pure chaos lurking in every corner. The fact that a single 2.5-hour musical performance could create that energy should be motivating, not discouraging.
So today, I invite you to take up a challenge: Find and reclaim your own power, then invite others into that shared space.
Think of the places that recharge you, where you feel your own power the most. Maybe it’s the boxing gym, the theater, or a stadium show. Maybe it’s a tiny shoebox office in Flatiron. Maybe it’s your home, your school, your block, your TikTok feed. Go there. Gather your strength back. Intentionally. Targeted. Focused.
Imagine your power like a laser, not a glow stick. It's tempting to snap a glow stick in the dark—it's bright, flashy, and grabs attention. But glow sticks are fleeting and unfocused (and you know they will fade within 12 hours). For this to work, we need to learn how to harness the kind of power that lasts. It starts with today.