Charlotte Bray ponders the highs and lows of fundraising while risking her life in a Muse mosh pit
This year I was fortunate to see Muse play live.
It says something about my age or music taste that I’m used to comfortable seating at performances (they don’t make you stand in the mosh pit for Mozart’s Requiem). I therefore found it quite exciting to get a position metres away from the stage. The rotating set meant a good view of the revolving Muse members: great visibility, great audibility. The arena was decorated with futuristic dystopian models and lighting effects – it was going to be awesome.
Using my working knowledge of Muse songs (always do your prospect research people) I anticipated the loud jumpy bits and braced myself accordingly
Two bars into the opening song I realised the challenge of being a small person in a gig for a very popular, very loud band. However coordinated you are, it’s impossible to mosh in an orderly fashion. Squeeze several hundred people of all heights and sizes into a rock venue, add some beer and there are going to be casualties. As I bounced two metres sideways then buffeted back again I thought: “this is it; this is how it all ends.” Mentally I was making my will, leaving my money to charity and my Doctor Who memorabilia to the Appreciation Society.
The fact I’m writing this shows I survived, and it was a great gig with no broken bones. As an exercise I pondered (mused if you will) the lessons learned and how we might apply them to fundraising challenges. There follows a handy list. You won’t get the joy of Matt Bellamy’s splendid vocals and guitar playing, but you don’t have to fear your own demise under the feet of hundreds of Muse fans. You’re welcome.
Dealing with fundraising challenges: handy tips picked up in Muse mosh pit
The initial shock of buffeting – however planned and prepared you are, life can throw you a curveball. Or, throw a Muse fan violently into your right shoulder. Whether it’s redundancy or a missed opportunity that makes a huge impact on your target, we can often go into shock. We are flight or fight animals and emotional creatures. Allow time, then, once you’re through the initial jolt and believe in your ability to cope. You work in the voluntary sector; you eat challenges for breakfast. Once you’re through feeling like a rabbit in the headlights, delve into your own resources.
Form a barrier – I would like to thank my supportive (and tall) friends for the fact I’m still here to write this piece. By creating a human wall and covering my head so I didn’t get knocked out by a rogue elbow, they really softened the blow. Whatever your situation or challenge, put up a protective barrier to help with the worst moments. It might be a colleague or friend who you can share with; it might be a hobby that helps clear your head. Or it might be a strategy that reduces mountains a step at a time.
Adapt to the surroundings – within a few moments of feeling like a ball in an Andy Murray match, I had to adapt. I’m not normally a mosher (reference: Mozart, paragraph one) but learned swiftly that I was going to have to become one. I overcame my dislike of physical contact with strangers, grabbing sweaty shoulders, and elbows to join with the mass movement of the crowd. Using my working knowledge of Muse songs (always do your prospect research people) I anticipated the loud jumpy bits and braced myself accordingly. After a few songs, I actually enjoyed it.
Be strong enough to accept help – the circle of Muse fans around me became my arms against a sea of troubles. Quite literally, arms. Complete strangers scooped me up or stopped me when I took a tumble and my head was heading perilously close to the concrete floor. Going through change and challenges can be a bonding experience, just ask anyone who has done the Mighty Deerstalker, or been through an organisational re-structure. You find out who your allies are.
Appreciate that there will be some losses – not everything or everyone will make it through the rain, to use an easy-listening metaphor. My orange converse took a proper battering. Whatever the challenge or the change, you won’t be the same the other side of it.
My ears were ringing, my shoes were trampled, I had a mysterious bruises appearing over the next few days and I was shattered. But I had a fantastic time. My climbing friend describes fun in two categories: type one fun is enjoyable and easy throughout, type two comes from having gone through something that can be terrifying, but at the end of it, you feel proud of yourself. I got through the mosh pit and it was actually pretty cool.
On a non-fundraising note, I’d definitely recommend Muse as an excellent live band, just make sure you take some tall friends with you.
