One morning, I received a text that got my attention:

“Last-minute tickets available to Taylor Swift, Los Angeles.”

If you’re not aware of Taylor Swift’s tour sweeping the country, you must be hiding under a rock.

Every day I’d read optimistic news about the U.S. economy being bolstered by her concerts from people traveling to see her perform, staying in hotels, and eating in local restaurants.

For weeks, I’d follow the stories with keen interest. I haven’t seen any other artist gather this kind of coverage before. Maybe Elvis? But that was before my time.

My first concert ever was The Beatles in San Francisco in 1965. The Beatles certainly got news coverage, but if my watchmaker dad was able to get tickets for us, it couldn’t have been too difficult.

I’’d seen video clips of Taylor’s show on TikTok and YouTube, including an adorable eight-year-old girl sobbing when Swift came on stage.

I was acutely aware that every one of her shows was sold out from the day they went on sale months earlier.

I figured the “Last-minute tickets available for Taylor Swift” must be a scam. It had to be.

But, you know what? I clicked on it anyway.

Turns out, it was a legitimate Ticketmaster account. Choosing the first two tickets that came available, I clicked, clicked, and clicked. The message I kept getting was “Another fan got this one” and each subsequent click repeated the message: sold, sold and sold.

“This is never going to happen,” I thought.

As luck would have it, by the time I reached the end of the block, I was the holder of two tickets to the hottest show in town.

The last-minute opportunity to attend her concert was an unexpected delight. I eagerly shared my good fortune with friends and family, hoping to find the perfect companion for the event.

Soon, however, a distant memory surfaced into my consciousness. Two weeks before, I had undergone surgery. My recovery demanded diligent self-care to heal. I must have been in a blackout and totally forgot about the surgery when I got the tickets.

My doctor advised caution, even though she didn’t explicitly forbid attending the concert.

I pondered the feasibility of attending such a colossal event. The concert hosts a staggering 72,000 attendees, and hour-long Uber rides to and from the venue.

I carefully considered the implications of my post-surgery stamina. Moreover. my caring son urged me to sell the tickets. It was a moment of inner conflict as I weighed my excitement against my health.

In the end, my health emerged as the top priority. As much as I wanted to attend the concert, I knew that pushing myself beyond my limits could hinder my recovery. My well-being was worth more than any concert.

During the decision-making process, I reflected on my connection with Taylor’s music. Some of my favorite tunes, particularly from her album “1989,” resonated deeply with me. However, I’ll admit I’m not a diehard fan who knows the lyrics to every song she’s ever written, as it appears that most who attend her concerts sing along to every single one.

Intrigued by her talent and artistry, I researched her background to learn more. In the process, I stumbled upon some fascinating details.

Did you know?

• Music was ingrained in Taylor’s DNA. Her maternal grandmother, Marjorie Finlay, was a famous opera singer.
• Taylor’s song “Marjorie” is dedicated to her opera-singing grandmother. The refrain “what died didn’t stay dead” speaks to the essence of eternal love and the enduring presence of those we have lost.
• Taylor, at just 14 years old, landed a job at a recording studio in Nashville, writing song lyrics after school.
• At the age of 12, her family made a bold move to Nashville to further encourage her songwriting skills, a testament to their support and belief in her artistic potential.
• During the pandemic, Taylor took a detour from her autobiographical writing and ventured into the realm of fiction. This culminated in the release of her short film, “All Too Well,” in November 2021.

The pandemic brought with it a rare gift of time and reflection for Taylor, as with the rest of the world. Right? You and me both.

In the end, my Taylor Swift journey was not solely about prioritizing my health but also a catalyst to learn more about the life of Taylor Swift. Her music continues to inspire me, and I admire her as a true artist — a child prodigy whose artistry reaches hearts and enriches lives across the globe.

I believe that artists we admire spark our own inner creativity. And, truth be told, that’s what thrills me the most. Writing this blog post is expressing my creativity. Whenever I create something from nothing, I’m on fire.

How about you?

Did I tell you I actually tried to buy tickets for her 2024 concert in London? That’s another story.

“What died didn’t stay dead …”

For years, I carried resentment toward my mother.

She minimized my feelings and frequently referred to me as critical or negative.

At age 18, I was badly injured in a car accident.

On the way home from the hospital, in the midst of all the pain and confusion, my mother said something that hurt me deeply.

She told me that she had never wanted to have me. She said that my father had insisted on having a child, but they were broke.

Mother had to write to her relatives to help pay for my birth.

I was devastated. It felt like all the anger and hurt that I had carried toward her were confirmed.

Ours was a complex relationship. There were days when I cherished her and craved her attention.

On other days I would reject her.

I couldn’t seem to shake the feelings of anger and hurt that I had towards her, even though I knew it wasn’t healthy.

But then, something unexpected happened. I was participating in an intuitive development class and one of the exercises involved connecting with a partner and receiving intuitive messages.

My partner said,

“Your mother’s here. Do you have anything to say to her?”

I was focused on a completely different issue at the time.

I said, “No, I still have a lot of hurt surrounding her.”

But then my partner said, “Your mother wants to apologize to you.”

I was dumbfounded. My mother had passed away years before, so I couldn’t understand why this was happening.

Our teacher, Sonia Choquette, explained that sometimes messages from our loved ones who have passed on can come through in unexpected ways.

The apology hit me hard. It gave me a sense of hope and relief, knowing that things can be healed with loved ones, even after they are gone.

It also made me realize that holding onto resentment and anger was not serving me or my mother.

As I continued to work on my own healing, I had another unexpected experience.

While writing a memoir about my accident, I had a dream in which I handed the transcript to both of my parents.

They read it and were moved to tears.

They apologized to me and said,

“We are so sorry. We didn’t realize how what we said had impacted you. We didn’t understand the pain you were going through then.”

It was another moment of profound healing.

Even though both parents had passed away years before, I was finally able to receive the exact apology I had always hoped for.

It was a reminder that even in the face of pain and hurt, forgiveness and healing are possible.

The experience taught me that forgiveness is a powerful tool for healing.

It’s not always easy, but it’s necessary if we want to find peace and move forward.

Messages of forgiveness and healing can come from unexpected sources, reminding us that love and connection can transcend even death.

So if you’re holding onto anger or resentment, I encourage you to find a way to forgive and let go.

It’s not always easy, but it’s worth it in the end.

And who knows, you may even receive an unexpected message of forgiveness and healing along the way.