I am not a “sports” person. But then something happens, like the local team does good or the underdogs do good or the entire world puts angst on hold and worships at
the altar of 👏 G-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-L 👏 So I do the Google-Deep Dive: Who are these UCLA women basketball players? Who’s this guy Jalen Brunson from the New York Knicks? As for the 2026 World Cup — inspirational stories of gumption and kindness are rolling in.
🌺
But something much bigger is happening for me. Collective Effervescence. French sociologist Émile Durkheim first described this in 1912. It can feel like an electric energy that brings on a spirit of joy. Revelry. Suddenly we feel a palpable connection-thing to each other AND to something bigger than just me and you. Like at the same time. But the magic recipe for this communal stew starts with a group of people who are sharing…a moment. What kind of moment? You fill in the blank…
One of my wise friends told me this story: Many years ago she attended a large conference which was led by noted psychologist (and trauma specialist) Bessel van der Kolk. He began his lecture by asking the audience — three-hundred health care professionals — how many people here sing with a chorus? Only a few raised their hands (including my friend). He asked them to stand up and announced that they were the luckiest people because making music together is one of the most potent ways to heal from trauma.
I don’t need stadium seating to snag a few moments of this out-of-this-world feeling. It happens when I put my Zoom classes on “gallery” setting and see everyone at the same time. It happens when we gather in person to play the ukulele and sing. It happens with the seniors at my Friday ukulele gig. “This is the highlight of my whole week,” they say. It’s not hyperbole. I hear this over and over. And I feel it myself.
But this bubbly feeling has a short half-life. I’ve given up trying to hold on to it nor do I get too bummed out when the feeling goes poof. Soon enough the allstar women of UCLA will be playing against each other at the pros. A few idiots will burn a car rather than hug a human as exuberant fans fill the streets to celebrate “The Knicks in Five.” Something is going to piss you off about the World Cup. That’s life…
The thing is…I think just a whiff of collective effervescence can move “the dial.” Perhaps having an experience like this gets stored in our bodies. Somehow. Somewhere. By tomorrow what is left is a sweet spongy memory. But just remember, remembering what is possible… isn’t that good thing too?
I have a personal stake in this collective experience stuff. Believe it or not, I am an introvert. I love quiet and to be alone. Like many others, I experienced trauma growing up—in the crucible of family and in the wilds of public education. I felt much safer pushing people away than joining the circle. But at the same time, life pulled me, ever-so-stealthily, onward and outward. It wasn’t until I found myself in other people’s stories, their triumphs and travails that I discovered a sense of community within myself and in my daily life. For me, it taken a world of people to grow into myself. A little taste of collective effervescence, now and then, is a joyful byproduct of being an engaged social animal.
I’m so grateful to land in the ukulele world because, in my opinion, this singular instrument is the very stuff of collective effervesce. Why? It’s an instrument for everyone. It meets you where YOU are. There is a huge margin for error because the sounds you make are gone in a flash (there is no sustain pedal, like a piano). It’s easy to “fake it” and still play with the masses. Did grandma tell you that music doesn’t run in the family and you’re tone deaf anyway. Well I say who cares. Collective effervescence is there for you too. Just show up.