Nomadic Zen – A Vagabond’s Guide To Happiness

So what the fuck is Rainbow? What are Nationals? What is this hippie dribble you speak of, son? What is going on here? What are you doing? What’s going on? Are you crazy?

Probably.

Yes I’m crazy. I’ve lost it all and I feel OK about it. Whatever you think I am is probably true. Because you believe it.

I believe this is great. I believe that life is a game and I’m winning. I believe it’s my initials that have the high score. I’ve put in cheat codes and have unlimited lives. I have unlimited health and a pocket full of quarters. I believe that I’m on top of the world and you would be hard pressed to convince me that this has to end.

..anyways

YES! The National Gathering of the Rainbow Tribes of the Family of Living Life. Or something along those lines.

This year was the 38th year of the annual National Rainbow Gathering. The gathering occurs every year on public land in the united states. There are also gatherings that go on in other parts of the world year round. It goes on during the week of July 4th here. July 4th there is a moment of silence that occurs from dawn until noon. At which time everyone in the circle (our consisted of several thousand) is instructed to place their hands on the Earth and ‘om.’ All this went down in the name of world peace. That’s a pretty good cause I must say. It was pretty powerful just hearing that many vocal chords harmonizing and vibrating through us.

At noon there was an eruption of commotion. Screams that correlated with the sounds of thunder. It was energy being sent from whatever god you believe in. It was mother nature screaming at us and us screaming back louder. As the rain came down we danced. When the thunder pounded the drums pounded harder. As the hail came down we danced faster. An unstoppable tumbleweed of joy, peace, and love. We got wet and we pounded the earth with our feet. The rain came down as we stomped the earth beneath us. As we jumped, spun, and danced, the earth beneath us become covered in the same water.

At this point is was when the mud people came out. They got naked and danced, rolled, and all around had a great time covered in mud. I really enjoyed what was going on but felt that, “hey, if I get naked now, I’m really going to regret it later when it’s not so fun and I find pictures of me naked on the Internet.” So I kept my clothes on and did what they did. It was a great and just all around playful time. Eventually it got cold being wet and covered in mud so I made it to the nearest fire to get myself warm. Eventually the rest of the mud people came over. One of them looked at me and laughed, “ewww, you got your clothes muddy” as he stood there with his modesty only being protected by mother earth. I later on learned truly what that meant.

I made it clear to to the nearest creek. It’s funny how I never considered the lay of the land to determine where I need to go. I eventually found the lowlands in the mountains. That’s where the creek ran. It never occurred to me that water that rained all over the mountains would eventually flow downhill and collect in a body of water. Sounds simple now, I know. Hmm.

I got there and there were a couple other people that were hard to recognize now that they were clean. He put his glasses on and stated, “God, I needed this. I don’t even know why.” Then I started washing my clothes the best I could. He advised me to use the rocks to get the mud off and it worked a little. I had to clean myself too so eventually I got naked anyways. Only this time I didn’t have the mud to hide me.

The rocks to clean my clothes worked a little I suppose. My tie dye shirt got 18 shades darker, but it is cleaner than when it was caked in mud. The bath in the creek made me cleaner than I had felt in a long time. It was cold but incredibly refreshing. It felt natural and comfortable. While sitting there butt naked in the wild, another guy came up and I had a great conversation while being bent over in the nude washing my underwear in a creek. I was clean and my shorts were dry soI put those on and crammed my underwear in my pocket. I threw my shirt over my shoulder and gathered the stuff from my pockets that I had set aside to keep dry.

I was able to find the creek because I heard the sounds of someone yelling, “MUUUUUUUUUUD PEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOPLEEEEE!!!!!! The guy yelling that had a fire waiting for the other former people covered in mud who had just washed in the creek. I got there and there were like 20 naked folks chilling around a fire. Young people, old people, children, male, female. It was amazing. People who were comfortable just as god made them. And no one cared. No one judged. Nothing was sexual and nothing was perverted. Nobody was ‘naked’ in any sense that I had ever understood.

In the end I wish my shirt wasn’t so dark and I had just put my clothes aside. At the point I thought that last sentence I decided that I could never deny it when someone calls me a hippie. Especially after the conversation I had the day before.

Leave some feedback and remind me to talk about the story of that conversation.

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