Ode to Woodstock
Forty years ago the Goddess of Getting Along merged with the Godfather of Hard Rock and Music Greats.
And, doused by mostly harmless drugs, put 500,000 hippie-types into a stupor of love and gut appreciation for the beat, the voices, the guitar solos bending minds into happy mush, the embracing of flow in everyday events like finding food, a bathroom, a familiar muddy blanket.
I remember the beginning and the end; but I know it's the middle that made me different. I totally abandoned the former rules of my life in the name of survival and found freedom, trust and humanity. I took off my bra and never wore another. I felt safe as we were all on the same mission, as it turned out to be, of random kindness and peace. You may think it naive, but it worked. I paid eighteen dollars for that ticket that never got collected. The fence was a joke against the masses of people wanting in. Damn, I wish I had that ticket. I still have the feeling, though, and when I connect with that there is nothing I cannot do. Package me in compassion and timeless agape love viewed from a bigger picture, a more perfect distance, and I am invincible in my efforts to adapt and make a difference in every new time of my life because, I did have the time of my life. Peace. Lynda.