That was the writing prompt today in the journal class.  I don’t like to be reminded I should be happy, grateful . . .  I blame it on college – being surrounded by barefoot “flower children”, wearing tie-dye,  flowers stuck in flowing hair, singing about love (not to mention “practicing” it) while I was working 30 hours a week to pay for my education.  Did I mention I went to The University of California at Berkeley . . . ?

Berkeley was a foreign country across the world from the Arizona high school I had attended: Girls were allowed to wear pants to school one day a year – rodeo day; The only drug I knew about was aspirin; Acid was hydrochloric; If you went barefoot the bottom of your feet would be seared from the 124 degree summer heat and; “Love” was “necking” at the drive-in theatre. (It was aptly called “necking” as all the action took place from the neck up). 

I was out of my element in college.  I watched, listened, standing on the outside looking in and had no clue I was observing a cultural phenomena.  All my time and energy went to financial and academic survival.

Decades later hearing positive sayings, aphorisms, slogans my brain reels itself emotionally back to college when I was in survival mode – working, studying, envious of those who untied their ribbons and freely, spontaneously savored the gifts of each day of their lives.

Today I drive a VW Beetle with a peace sign on the side . . . go figure