When the Carolina Hurricanes won the Stanley Cup this month, Raleigh erupted. More than 180,000 people packed the sidewalks ten-deep, leaned out of mid-rise office windows, and stacked themselves floor-by-floor up the concrete tiers of parking decks. They were there to witness something extraordinary. This was the Hurricanes’ second Stanley Cup title. For a few hours, the capital breathed in unison. Neighbors and strangers from every walk of life stood shoulder-to-shoulder, high-fiving over a game played on ice. It felt remarkably good. It felt, for an afternoon, like unity and belonging.

Watching those celebrations, I found myself thinking something I have thought many times before. I wish I understood what that feels like.

For as long as I can remember, I have struggled with those kinds of experiences. Packed championship parades have never appealed to me. Massive concerts where fans scream, cry, and sometimes faint because a superstar walks on stage leave me more puzzled than inspired. Even when everyone around me seems completely caught up in the moment, part of me remains an observer rather than a participant.

There is a term for what those people are experiencing: collective effervescence. The sociologist Émile Durkheim coined the phrase more than a century ago to describe the energy people experience when they gather around a shared purpose or identity. Whether it is a championship celebration, a concert, a religious service, a military reunion, or even thousands of runners crossing the finish line of a marathon, people often describe feeling connected to something larger than themselves. For a brief period, individual concerns fade into the background and are replaced by a powerful sense of belonging.

Research suggests those moments are more than just fun. They strengthen social bonds, reduce feelings of loneliness, increase positive emotions, and can leave people feeling energized long after the event ends.

If that is true, I sometimes wonder whether many lawyers are at a disadvantage. Our profession trains us to remain objective. We analyze rather than react. We identify weaknesses instead of getting swept up in enthusiasm. We are paid to anticipate problems when everyone else is celebrating possibilities. Emotional detachment is often one of our professional strengths.

But strengths can have unintended side effects. The same habits that make us effective advocates may also make it harder to fully immerse ourselves in shared experiences. Instead of losing ourselves in the moment, we stand just outside it, mentally evaluating everything that is happening around us.

I recognize that tendency in myself. Part of me envies people who can throw themselves completely into a championship celebration or become absorbed in the energy of a crowd. They seem to leave feeling recharged in a way I rarely experience.

Fortunately, collective effervescence is not limited to championship parades or sold-out concerts. It can happen while singing in a church choir. It can happen during a volunteer project where everyone is working toward the same goal. It can happen at a family reunion, a community theater production, a charity race, or even around a campfire where everyone knows the words to the same songs. The common thread is not the activity itself. It is the feeling of sharing an experience with others rather than simply observing it.

For people like me, perhaps the challenge is not to force ourselves into environments that feel unnatural. Maybe the challenge is simply to stop standing on the sidelines quite so often.

That might mean joining your coworkers for lawn games at a firm picnic. It might mean attending the local football game rather than watching it from the couch. It might mean singing even if your voice isn’t very good, volunteering even if you don’t know anyone else, or cheering a little louder than feels comfortable.

None of those things come naturally to me. But neither does exercise. Neither does getting up early to fish. Neither do many of the other activities that ultimately leave me feeling better than when I started.

Perhaps collective effervescence works the same way. Sometimes participation comes before connection. We often have to show up before we feel like showing up. We join the group, cheer a little louder, sing the song, volunteer for the project, or simply stay a little longer than we normally would. In other words, there may be a little truth to the old saying, “Fake it until you make it.”

We spend a great deal of time talking about wellness as something we pursue alone. We recharge by taking vacations, reading books, exercising, fishing, gardening, or spending quiet time by ourselves. Those are all valuable, and many of us genuinely need that solitude.

But maybe we also need occasional reminders that one of the most powerful ways to recharge is to become part of something bigger than ourselves, even if only for an afternoon.

I am probably never going to be the person climbing a light pole after my team wins a championship. But I would like to become a little less of an observer and a little more of a participant. That seems like a worthwhile goal.