and then she thought

i'll tell you one thing. there are so many girls with lovely hats and boys with scruffy beards and beat up jackets banging on drums, and singing to make something beautiful happen. and there are so many fields that haven't been mowed, and yellow dogs catching frisbees.

and then there are the cowboys, who have really got it figured out. and they lean over their fences and look at you when you pass them, and they've got it, and you know they've got it.

and there are the hippies and the mennonites, and they (respectively) live together and share and ache and break and celebrate as one.

and i'll tell you something else. there's something beautiful, something that they can't wrap their arms quite around, that's pulling them all, and they catch it like a lightening bug in a jar. sadly, the bug suffocates when caught and goes out after awhile. so they search again, with the jar in the field for the bug. with the guitar and the horse whip and the music and the commune. and the truth is, they've got it, at least, a piece of it. they're RIGHT. but still, just when they've caught the bug, it dies.

so they've got to learn, and i've got to learn, to let beauty pass through us like a cool breeze, to inhale but to exhale too, and be okay when the breeze stills, or when the breeze freezes.

and more, they've got to look, and i've got to look, beyond the breeze. beyond the hippies, to what brings them together... to the Source...