When I moved to California for college twelve years ago, they warned that I’d become a hippie. I grew up in a Chicago suburb proudly filled with people just like the characters on ‘The Jersey Shore,’ and they did not take kindly to my departure. They all said I’d surely become one of those West Coast wackos. Of course I resisted. I spent the first few months of college hanging on tightly to my fake tan and my fear of flip-flops. I would never be a Californian, I told myself.
But today I sat with 300 others at a spiritual retreat in Santa Monica, and I can say without a doubt: I am THE stereotypical Californian hippie. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. Today the LA sun shone brightly as we filed into the building built specifically for New Age-y enlightenment. We had all chosen to ignore the mid-election aftermath and the too-soon Christmas decor shopping in exchange for ten hours of learning about our brains. The theme of the day was ‘acceptance.’ We spent a lot of time analyzing our feelings and relationships, talking about our perceptions of the world, and crying. Lots of tears fell from frail older women and big burly bald men. This is all very interesting to me now, but that ‘me’ from twelve years ago with a fake tan would have scoffed, screamed, and probably run from the building in fear of all the criers and their comfy elastic waistbands. But that’s another thing we learned: judgments are only harmful to the one judging. What a freeing realization. When we came back from lunch, we had a dance party. A spiritual dance party. All types scattered over the hotel-ish carpeting and moved to Madonna (Who knew hippies liked Madonna?). The old me would have judged them. She would have called them all embarrassing nerds. She would have snickered when she overheard some women talking about auras and angel readings. But the new ‘me’ didn’t judge. She just danced. And loved those people. And wished that everyone could feel what it’s like to truly accept everyone, hippies and all.----------About the author: Laurenne Sala is a comedian and writer living in Venice, CA. She loves riding her bike along the beach, wearing pajamas, and her parents. Sometimes she drools while sleeping. Read her blog at www.humansarefunny.com or see more at www.laurenne.com