How To Love A Hippie

How To Love A Hippie.

Aug 5, 2015

To love a hippie is to take a walk into a soul’s garden and stop to smell the flowers.

It’s early morning sunshine stretching across a bed tangled with “I love you’s” and the soft gasps of dreams.

To love a hippie is to escape from the mundane into a world that is magical—seeing the joy in the moon rising above the distant sea and the beauty of lips pressed against fresh daisies.

It’s music that lifts and dips, this way and that, moving to a beat all its own. It’s bare feet and long hair tangled in your sleep, and it’s the smile you just can’t forget.

To love a hippie is to hold hands with nature while kissing the stars.

It’s moonbeams and rainbows—and just a little bit of thunder.

It’s the smell of summer rain steaming against the hot earth, and the touch of grass wet with dew upon up the toes.

To love a hippie is to decide that the rules aren’t always worth pursuing. For even on the best day, a hippie will manage to break a few.

A hippie’s love is free as the lark in the sky, and as vast as the night.

Everything and nothing at once, it’s the indescribable feeling of wanting but not needing.

It’s the taste of Elderflower liquor heavy with the smell of Ganeshas Dream hovering in the air. Bare shoulders and wild eyes that dance at the edge of reason and passion.

To love a hippie is to journey into the tempestuous unknown of this life with nothing more than a soft hand and hope.

To love a hippie is to thirst for adventure as others desire their morning coffee. It’s a love like sleek cobblestones and icy glaciers.

To love a hippie is to know that the journey will matter most—that the destination will somehow become lost between 2:00am kisses and fresh bread from the bakery. It’s homemade strawberry jam licked from expectant fingertips, and the taste of honey dust upon bare skin.

To love a hippie is to journey above the rules of relationships and far beyond the expectations of society.

It’s free love, and it’s always the best kind.

To love a hippie is to marry at sunset with the sound of the surf as the only witness. It’s a marriage of two hearts—without rings, without lace and without pretense. It exists because the universe has conspired to make it so.

To love a hippie is to journey not just into love, but into finding yourself as well. It is comfort and understanding—and patience as warm as mamma’s quilt by the fire.

To choose to love a hippie is to decide to make romantic love real. It’s a candle’s flickering glow.

It’s the beauty of love that exists simply because—just as the chicory grows along the wild riverbank—because the very best of things just are. Just as the sun rises in the morning above green-laced hilltops, and as the moon glows pearl-like over fields, the love for a hippie just is.

For a hippie loves another from the purest place in their heart; they don’t know how to love any other way.

If you’re lucky enough to be loved by a hippie, it won’t be because of anything you own or the money in your wallet. It will be because they see you for who you really are; they see the magic you create when you’re not looking.

They are the ones who love with the enthusiasm of a meteor shower in the middle of summer—for they do everything with all their hearts. They are full-throttle—passionate.

They don’t just desire your body; they want to touch your soul as well. They won’t just kiss your lips, but your fingertips too.

They don’t just want you for a night, but for as much of their future as they are willing to plan.

And while they know only the foolish make promises of forever, the truest oath they can make is this:

As long as the sun and moon still kiss the sky, they will try to love you as they did the very first day.

To love a hippie is to know that wherever life takes you, you’ve got your own bit of paradise right next to you—and she’s just waitin’ for a kiss.

~

Author: Kate Rose

Editor: Toby Israel

Blog Changes

First of all, I’d like to say my changes will not affect my content. Everything will still be here, and I’ll continue to add the same sorts of blog content and updates.

This is just a name change. I’m going from “HippieMom” to “RecycledStardustt,” and the blog will change to reflect that. The URL will change as well. For an explanation on why the change, read on.

Changes will take effect within the next few days.

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HippieMom or HippieLady has been my online presence for years now. However I just don’t feel like it fits my lifestyle anymore. I’m still a tree-hugger, peace-lover, love to go barefoot, try to be eco friendly when I can, free spirit, baby-wearer, etc. But am I really a hippie? Mmm… I don’t feel like I am much these days.

Stardustt was my very first online screen name back when I was 12 years old. Not only that, but I feel our physical presence on this planet is nothing but recycled stardust. So I’m recycling my name just like our carbon atoms are recycled. It all fits!

The Stories I’m Told

I met a gentleman today. Like many elderly before him, he saw me walking around in hyvee with Felix in his carrier, and said that it would’ve been nice to have when he had been raising kids. He then went on to tell me his life story.

His wife passed away when they were both 35 years old. They had a son and a daughter, and the daughter was still a baby at that time. So he raised his kids alone. He never remarried.

He had polio as a teenager and beat it. He joined the Army when he was young and was in the Korean War. He enjoyed the Army, and worked with explosives. Not explosives like we have nowadays he said, but the ones with glycerin, that can go off for any little reason. He enjoyed traveling and all that he was able to learn and do.

Then he jumped ahead to talking about his wife passing away, and raising and taking care of his son and daughter. He said his son passed away at age 51 to MS, and his daughter passed away at age 46 (I don’t remember why). He said he took care of them as long as he could, until he could no longer. He then helped raise his grandchildren, and they all look out for him when he has medical procedures. He also helps with his great grandchildren now.

This gentleman was proud to tell me he is a born again Christian, and when he was diagnosed with cancer he certainly was not afraid. They told him he had it everywhere, including his lymph nodes and many organs in his body. He had 10 surgeries and watched every one of them he was awake for. He said the nurses and doctors got a kick out of it, but he said it’s his body and he wants to make sure they’re doing it right. Plus he was fascinated to watch them work. He listed off all the organs affected, which included his pancreas, liver, and intestines (plus several others). Many surgeries, many ICU stays, and even life support. Doctors told him he would never survive it all, but years later he stands there in hyvee telling me about it, cancer-free. He told me about the surgery sites not healing properly and needing to care for it at home. And then he told me about being diabetic and needing to change his diet in order to have a final surgery to repair the open wounds. He changed his diet so much that he no longer needed insulin.

He claimed to never have drank soda, coffee or alcohol other than tastes earlier in life. He said that’s why he believes he does not have dementia. He currently visits folks at 3 different nursing homes here in town.

He said he drives a pickup truck now because it’s easier to get into. But until recently he had a Mustang. He said just once he got it up to 140 mph. He said he’s heard you’re supposed to die with grace, but he wants to go out with a bang. He wants to enjoy life, every moment of it, and live to be 120! He said the hardest part about being as old as he is, is watching all of his loved ones pass away or lose their memories. But he’s happy to still be alive at AGE 91!!!, against all odds.

I could’ve listened to him talk all day long. I’m absolutely fascinated with his stories. And I didn’t even catch his name. Just a photo of him as he left.

Free Donuts!

A couple weeks ago we got Hostess crunch donuts and they tasted AWFUL, like burnt plastic. So Jarrod called Hostess and let them know. They sent us coupons for free products to replace what was bad.

Jarrod took those coupons to Kwik Star tonight on his way home from work. The person training the lady behind the register decided to charge him $1 a piece for the donuts even though the coupons said up to $2 each. And the donuts were $1.79 each. Rather than argue, Jarrod paid $1 each and came home.

He told me about it, and immediately I decided we weren’t standing for that shit. I took the donuts and the keys and headed back to Kwik Star (in my pajamas). I walked in the door and went straight to the counter with the donuts. I dropped them down on the counter, and the lady tried to ring them up. I said, “Don’t ring those up. I brought them in. My husband was just in here with coupons for free Hostess products and you charged him $1 a piece anyway. THAT’S NOT HOW THAT WORKS. I want our money back AND the coupons back.”

The lady was calm and ok about it, but the guy training her was obviously pretty nervous. He was fumbling around, asking her where things were, his hands shaking. But I got our money and our coupons back. I wasn’t very nice about it, didn’t say thank you. Just walked straight back out the door.

Then I went to Casey’s and got our free donuts as previously attempted. Jarrod was riveted by the story when I got home. lol! No one messes with my man. Just because he doesn’t like to argue or make waves doesn’t mean I’ll allow people to walk on him.

And now we can enjoy our Hostess crunch donuts in peace.

We NEED Help

Update 12/6/2019
We are still struggling, but I think we have things under control.  Many of you made very generous contributions, not only on GoFundMe, but in person, in supplies, and in support.  I cannot express the deep gratitude Jarrod and I both have.  Thank you so much to everyone, from the bottom of our hearts.

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WE NEED HELP. PLEASE CHECK OUT OUR GOFUNDME PAGE.

Felix has seen a specialist and is in need of lots of therapy. Details on the campaign page. Please help. And share, share, share, far and wide. Thank you for your help.