I arrived quite early Friday for the first of three days of concerts. The celebration was already in full swing. The crowd was a rainbow splash upon the floor of the Silver Bowl. The dancing had already begun. Throughout the crowd, one could find jugglers, hacky-sackers, and a couple of volleyball games in progress. Frisbies filled the air. Framed by the clouds and mountains, the stage sported flags of many colors, including a beautiful Earth flag. Kites could be seen flying from the top rows of the bleachers. Bubbles floated through the air along with a few well-aimed marshmallows. (Marshmallow fights are a tradition) People played in the sprinklers to stay cool.
As the show opened, the dancing broke out in earnest. Music has a way of taking us back in time, and I found myself remembering my own youthful ideals. After a couple of songs, the crowd was encouraged to register to vote, and then to follow through and actually vote. The crowd was reminded to support and join ecological organizations that are focused on the task of healing our Earthmother, "if you want there to be trees by the time you're my age."
For six hours, I watched children from birth-to-sixty-something sharing their food, their water, and their joy at just being there. There was no generation gap. There was no racial issue. There was no battle of the sexes. There was only peace, joy and happiness. There was a real sense of the One Tribe.
You see, the sixties never left us. In the sixties, a beautiful, new, thought-seed was planted in the fertile soil of mind. That seed has been sleeping beneath the cold winter soil of recent conflict and unrest. And just as it appeared that we had forgotten our thought-seeds, Nature has worked its magic, and little seedlings are popping up everywhere, if we look closely.
So I think it is too soon to give up on the sixties. Let's nurture all those tender seedlings, welcome them into the sun and air of a new day, water them with our love and energy. They can blossom into a beautiful future for us all.
