Tears well up in my eyes as I hit the punching bag.

Nobody’s watching Vin. It’s just you. Let the emotion out.

I spent last weekend in the mountains of Colorado at a music festival put on by the artist Pretty Lights. The performance was already posted on YouTube. Listening to it again in the gym ignites a fire in me.

When at the concert, it’s not just the music that crashes through you like ocean waves. It’s the environment, the people, the love. You’re hugging your friends, gazing into the pink heavens, intoxicated by the lights.

But now it’s just me and the music, and the music is so damn good. I’m throwing punches, dancing around the bag, releasing what I have in me.

It feels like redemption.

Pretty Lights frontman, Derek Vincent Smith, has been on his own hero’s journey over the past decade, rising to fame in the 2010s and taking a hiatus from 2018 to 2023.

He’s back, healthy, and on the other side of a dark time in his life, now married and having a kid, and god, you just feel happy for the man.

The show felt like an ode to the human spirit. We’ve all been through shit. I think about my journey. Every single human being in that audience has been through challenges.

You can feel it — the pain of being human reverberating through the crowd — not in a depressing sort of way, but the opposite, an embrace of light.

Tears flow. Bodies move, shake, sway, jump.

You clasp friends on the shoulder, squeezing them as hard as you can; strangers kiss on the cheek; lovers come together, noses close, lips touching.

The night brings a resurgence. Our past inspires strength. The heart resounds. It’s pure love. Unexplainable emotion conjured from looking around at the silhouetted distant mountains, the moon a crescent in the sky besides planes that soar into the next echelon of the atmosphere, and the magic on that stage.

It melts you.

Derek isn’t just up there by himself, spinning tracks and pressing buttons. He’s up there with his badass team, his family; there’s Derek, the conductor of this modern symphony.

He’s controlling a constellation of wires he calls the bridge, piecing together samples from the past and present like a sublime puzzle of light and sound.

There’s Borahm Lee on the keys, slicing and dicing like a contemporary Bach. You got Chris Karns on another set of turntables, assisting with the sampling and video.

Then there’s my favorite, Alvin Ford Jr. on the drums. Seeing Ford Jr. rockin’ out for two, three, four hours straight, taking pulls of champagne and smoking a cigar is incredible.

He looks like a kid up there, having fun on the drums in his parents’ garage. But they all look like kids, as that’s what playing music is, an embrace of the childlike spirit.

Lastly, is Michal Menert on the guitar, vocals, and any other sound that needs producing. Pretty Lights is a coalition of heart and soul that spans every individual on stage and the audience, as the crowd energetically feeds the band and they respond, putting together a totally unique set every time.

The festival was held in Buena Vista, Colorado, a venue nestled in the mountains, perfect for this event. On both Friday and Saturday night, there was a Pretty Lights set from 7 to 11 with an intermission. The rest of the time was ours to explore.

A group of us friends camped on the grounds. During the day there were other musical performances by the water and yoga sessions, sound baths, massage booths, breath work. It was like a blend of a wellness retreat and a hedonistic playground.

We spent Saturday by the river, dunking in the frigid water and drying in the baking sun. Cottontails swirled in the air as light pierced the verdant treetops. An array of colorful hammocks rocked back and forth from hearty branches.

In the evening before the show, the scene on the river felt like a modern rendition of an 1800s painting in the Romantic style. Everything was bathed in golden light, with green flowing river water and festival goers enlivening the scene.

Yet in their hands were Topo Chico seltzers and yellow Pacifico beers, beneath them pink floaties shaped like doughnuts.

I like to believe experiences like this define my generation. We just want to experience love. We’re sick of the bullshit. At festivals like these, everybody’s pretty much on the same page, sharing kindness and positive vibes.

We want to experience beauty. We’re sick of the hate. We want to party, enjoy our lives, question what doesn’t feel good. We want to be a part of something bigger than ourselves. We want to be with our friends and the people that we love. We want to listen to good music.

We want to truly live.

These experiences aren’t always easy. It’s uncomfortable. You’re camping in the dirt and dust, staying up into the wee hours of the morning and taking mind-opening substances which can wear you down.

Yet in the dirt, you learn about yourself. You face some demons and what you’ve been through in your life, and you push through. What I learned out there is that I am in control of my body, my emotions, my spirit.

The day before the festival, I coincidentally came upon the following quote by Bruce Lee:

“Be like water making its way through cracks. Do not be assertive, but adjust to the object, and you shall find a way around or through it. Empty your mind, be formless. Shapeless, like water. Now, water can flow or it can crash. Be water, my friend.”

Be like water became my mantra. I kept my body loose and moved amongst the scene as gracefully as I could.

There’s so much happening in and around you, it’s easy to get annoyed, frustrated, angry. You can’t get through a crowd. You can’t find your friends, you’re hungry, tired.

But none of it actually matters. Every single thing is meant to test us so that we may grow. The experience is irrelevant. The fact that we’re experiencing it — that’s the magic.

We’re all on some divine ride, and we get to feel these things; we can let it all get to us, or we may simply marvel at the breadth of life on earth.

I kept returning to my breath, as the breath is home. The first night I couldn’t sleep in my tent, so I just kept breathing. I stayed peaceful, resting throughout the day, in the crowd, in my tent, by the river, in the grass.

And wouldn’t you know it, I was okay.

I’m exactly where I’m meant to be in life. It’s not necessarily what’s happening around me, it’s how I’m changing inside.

I’m conscious, dealing with continual feelings and emotions, responding to them. Every day I strive to better myself. I’m having core experiences, and they’re moving me. I’m connecting with new friends and creating memories to last a lifetime.

Every time I hear the songs that were played at the show, I’ll think of this time, this place, these people, and my heart will resound.

We won’t be young forever. We won’t be alive forever. I don’t know why I’m here if not to experience all that life has to offer, the pain, the beauty, the love, as it’s all the same thing, a means to grow.

It’s a beautiful sunny day. After the gym, I stop at Whole Foods for lunch, still listening to the set. Again, tears come to my eyes. I’m emotional, man. I say hi to a stranger, sharing the love, doing my best.

One day at a time.

Just breathe.

We’re exactly where we’re meant to be.