The Smell of a Hippie in The City

I ran across this blurb I'd written a week before I moved to New York, and decided to post it.
At the time, I was really struggling with the idea of moving to NYC, a place so opposite from my ideal natural forest setting. Here it is:

"In New York, people seem so disconnected from nature. Cement and rubber soles separate people from their Mother. Is it any wonder there are so many lost and lonely people there?

Maybe that's exactly why I'm being guided to go there. To re-introduce people to the flow of their own heartbeats, the rhythm of life that still pulses gently and warmly beneath a concrete blanket.
To remind people that their Mother Earth grows food for them... not Kraft of General Mills. To show that water is still free, it flows from the Earth and becomes our blood.

Though I probably can't trust the city rainwater to cleanse my body and soul the way it does in the forest... Which means I can't justify not washing my hair for weeks at a time, or showering every day, as I'm wont to do in the forest.

Hippies love the smell of body odor. I remember cuddling with Ginger and Poppy and Peaches, each of us smelling so human, so real. It connected us. As strange as that may sound to people who put chemicals under their arms every day in an effort to deny their humanity, it's true that your scent is a part of who you are, as much as your eye color or the sound of your voice.

These days, I suppose "who you are" is measured a little differently. One can tell a lot about a girl from the color of her fingernails or the mood of her make-up.

Not so with naked hippies. We judge you only by the wattage of your smile.
God, please let New York be as natural a home to me as the forest. I pray to find my niche there. Whether I stay for months or years, let there be rich soil to sink my toes into, and warm sunlight to bathe my body.

Let there be warmth and acceptance. "


Since then, I have indeed found a cozy little niche of vegans in Brooklyn. We may not be family, but we are building community. We may have group inhibitions, but we're opening up as much as people ever do "civilization". And while I still dearly miss waking up to roosters crowing, meditating with the trees, and the promise of "nakey-lakey", I've made peace with the fact that my path is winding through the streets of Brooklyn right now. I'm here to strengthen my will and embrace the yang. I'm here to open my heart to the hundreds of people I encounter on a daily basis. I'm here for as long as I'm here, and at last... at long last... I'm okay with that.

Even if it means wearing deodorant...