I know just what you mean about the hippy thing, I have long referred to myself as a new age drop out. I went through the late 60s and on there were some things that were wonderful and exciting but much that was saccharin and delusional and destructive. I tried but I'm just not a follower, so glad also hate patchouli
Great article! When someone judges you as looking judgy, of course that’s a judgment in itself. Which is why I limit my group activities to drinking coffee with strangers 😉
I, too, was always too self-conscious to dance in public--until I started taking a high-impact aerobics class years ago. Between the music (yes, too loud) and the coordination with other people doing the same thing, I lost most of my inhibitions, and now I love to dance. Love it!
You nailed it again, Sarah! I grew up in Santa Cruz, CA, Ground Zero for all that is goofy, self-indulgent, find-your-inner-wolf/Wiccan/child or whatnot displays of look-at-me. Ecstatic dance? I prefer the downcast gaze and geriatric shuffle of my fellow retirees as we zone out to Santana or the Doors…
I know just what you mean about the hippy thing, I have long referred to myself as a new age drop out. I went through the late 60s and on there were some things that were wonderful and exciting but much that was saccharin and delusional and destructive. I tried but I'm just not a follower, so glad also hate patchouli
"new age dropout" cracked me up, thanks for that :D
I do actually LOVE patchouli, I won't lie!
Complete agreement.
Great article! When someone judges you as looking judgy, of course that’s a judgment in itself. Which is why I limit my group activities to drinking coffee with strangers 😉
I, too, was always too self-conscious to dance in public--until I started taking a high-impact aerobics class years ago. Between the music (yes, too loud) and the coordination with other people doing the same thing, I lost most of my inhibitions, and now I love to dance. Love it!
You nailed it again, Sarah! I grew up in Santa Cruz, CA, Ground Zero for all that is goofy, self-indulgent, find-your-inner-wolf/Wiccan/child or whatnot displays of look-at-me. Ecstatic dance? I prefer the downcast gaze and geriatric shuffle of my fellow retirees as we zone out to Santana or the Doors…