Last journal entry of Hippie Days – July 7, 1974
Alone under the stars, moon, clouds, mountains, and trees.
The wind carries the smells, sounds and heat of the fire.
I calm down, lighten up, breathe in, write poetry.
I call “I love you,” toward the heavens. To whom?
Life. The world. My children. My husband. It doesn’t matter.
This solitude gives me serenity.
I was lonely cooped up in my box in suburbia – four walls and a roof, with only my small children to talk to. I couldn’t breathe. Instead of escaping I withdrew, became sullen, yes, sometimes unbearable. But now there’s peace and time to contemplate under this open shining sky. My whole being mellows. Even the past looks rosier. Now being alone is nice. Being with people is nice. The children notice the change. Sure we still have hassles but they don’t loom so large and are resolved more easily. Instead of trying to achieve right-mindedness, oneness, goodness, I stop trying altogether, let down my defenses and just open up. As Anais Nin perceived, now I’m “free to bloom”. Of course the cycle will continue. Life will become not so easy once again, but I’ll keep a little of this wisdom each time the wheel of life turns, moving up the ladder notch by notch. It takes an exceptionally long time, but no worry, I’m immortal.
(Though my travel journal ends here, I will try to re-create the rest of our Hippie Days from the continuing entries in the Children’s Diary.)