It's time to rekindle the wild spirit of youth. By Brenda Cyr
Photo by RODNAE Productions from Pexels
Remember the sixties and seventies? Love-ins, sit-ins, great music, long hair, and bell-bottoms? I remember it as a time of both discovery and rebellion. We challenged everything we didn’t understand. The world was changing, and we were the ones in charge of the direction.
We had peaceful demonstrations, sit-ins and gave flowers to everyone. Of course, there was political unrest, but it was nothing like the unrest of our current time.
We created new music, new art, and groundbreaking novels. Janis Joplin and Jimi Hendrix took music to new heights. The feminist movement had us all burning bras and standing up for our rights as human beings. Books like the Joy of Sex and Roots opened our minds to innovative ideas and old prejudices.
It was an exciting time, with energy that called out to the wildness in our souls. We hitchhiked without fear, joined with others to make music, experimented with illegal substances, fell in and out of love; we lived with no rules.
We were the generation of free spirits, dancing in the moonlight and moving as our hearts directed us. Looking back, now that I have joined the over-sixty crowd, I wonder what happened to that wild child. I miss her. I look at others my age, knowing there is a wild child in there somewhere, but she is hidden.
I don’t recall the exact moment I turned into a responsible adult. I suppose it had something to do with being married, having kids, a mortgage, and a job. The curse of responsibility doused the flames of passion that I felt in my youth. Once in a while, a small flicker would arise, but I always put it back to a tiny spark as I continued being a grownup.
The responsibility of child-rearing has transformed into the joys of being a grandparent. Long days of work are behind me, and long days of boredom stretch ahead. But I think I am ready to stoke the fire again and see if that wild child wants to come out to play.
The passing years have changed me, maybe for the better. I am slower to move and not as eager to run with the crowd. The only drugs I take are blood pressure pills, although it seems like marijuana is suddenly all the rage. I may try that again.
I like to believe that the years have made me wiser, but I don’t think being wiser contradicts living as a free spirit.
I suppose we could change the term from wild child to wild grandma. Then, using our natural gifts and creativity, we can enhance the world. Rules don’t apply to us anymore. The only restrictions are the ones we place on ourselves.
We will remember what freedom of expression means by living fearlessly and doing what feels good rather than what the world expects from us old folks.
It’s time for the world to discover the wisdom of the original free spirits.