Now, don't let that scare you off. I've changed.
And I was what you would call a bathing Hippie. I have a hygiene product addiction. I have been told "One woman does not need 5 different soaps to wash one body" I disagree.
What this did was, allow people to experience Patchouli oil the way it was intended, as a perfume and not an alternative to soap. I've actually had Patchouli haters say "what are you wearing it's wonderful?" HA! it's Pathchouli, I digress.
Once I was a very outspoken, colorful individual. I dyed my waist length hair so vivid red that I once stopped traffic...in Portland...near Lloyd Center. I dressed like a belly dancer, super short shirts and ankle length gauze skirts tied low on my hips, the better to show off my crescent moon tattoo on my left hip. I'd wear lots of tinkly bells around my ankles and wrists with no shoes unless I absolutely had to.
I smoked...whatever I wanted...drank whatever I wanted...pretty much where ever I wanted . It was the 90's and a new-age hippie had emerged. We listened to the DOORS but also Nirvana. We were not scared of water and soap, the better to get close enough for people to hear you talk about peace and love and a future where my friends and I could live on one big piece of land and live off it together.
We even had a fund going for a while, and weekly meetings to discuss what to do and where to do it.
Some where it turned into just a reason to drink beer.
Some place I laid down my bells and never picked them up again.
Some time I cut off all my hair and let the natural color re-emerge.
Some how I forgot that I was a sight to behold and I stopped expecting others to be awed by my presence.
Maybe I forgot, maybe I grew up, maybe my children became more important than all of that.
Maybe I didn't really lose something important to me, maybe I just put it away.
And that's okay because who I was made me who I am today and I think that person is alright.
