|Breakfast view, Mendocino in California|
Last night, my partner took me to the Mystic to see the Jerry Garcia band. The show started at 8:30 pm almost passed my bedtime.
Usually, I fall asleep by 9 pm and wake up by 5 am.
I downed a cup of coffee with a croissant before we left. A reversed breakfast dinner. Hoping the brew would keep me awake.
The coffee wore off within minutes of the band entering the stage. Surrounded by twirlers, pillows of cannabis smoke, and gatherings of old time friends reuniting, I tried my damndest to keep my eyelids from fluttering shut and my head falling on my partner's shoulder slipping away into sleep.
Then the band played. And did they play.
As the music filled the room.
My body started uncontrollably swaying to the music. I felt the rhythmic vibe down deep in my bones. A peace descended upon me.
As I watched the people down below dance and sing bouncing a beach ball through the air, all fears of virus invasions, fires, political storms and environmental destruction lifted and vanished.
I became one with the music and everyone around me.
So this is what it feels like to be part of the Grateful Dead.
My partner smiled and kissed me.
After the show, we walked the dark streets dimly lit by lamplight and bars. We stopped at Dennys for veggie burgers and onion rings to prolong the evening out.
I held onto the feeling of oneness as long as I could drifting off to sleep letting go and allowing whatever the future brings.