Whenever the boy and I go out, we meet the smell of patchouli. I had smelled it on previous occasions, but have never been met with it on such frequency as when him and I attend concerts, gatherings and events across the East. We frequent many concerts, fitting since we met at a Haiti benefit concert, and most circle around the influence of our favorite radio station, WXPN.
Sara Lee (Guthrie) & Johnny at Long's Park
Initially, I associated patchouli with hippies. You know the kind. No bras, dreadlocks, linen clothes, body odor, birkenstocks. But now the scent welcomes me with a different personality – freedom, arts, character, friendliness.
I find myself being very judgmental, seemingly more lately, and it disturbs me. The crowd around me isn’t so, and I’d like to embrace more of the free lovin’ mentality that I love about “hippies”. Acceptance, grace, peace. Patchouli.
No, I won’t be spritzing any on anytime soon, but why not live and be free? The experiences that I have been blessed with, especially since Kevin’s death, have opened up my eyes and brought to me a wonderful cultural perspective. And if that means more patchouli laced air amidst a crowd of singing, swaying, clapping folks? Bring it on.
