Rosehips, the Summer of 1967 & a Reflection on Revolutionary Love

Rosehips, the Summer of 1967 & a Reflection on Revolutionary Love

When I write about Love, I am not referring to the shallow concept thrown around like a Frisbee at the beach--but the sort of revolutionary love that radical political philosophers and actors like Che Guevara, bell hooks, Chela Sandoval, Jesus and Rumi discuss. I’m writing about the most powerful force on the face of the planet—a force that breaks through every illusion, delusion, misconception, wrong perception, affliction and addiction—and transforms them into something inconceivable, something beautiful beyond belief, something mind-blowing. I am writing about the one thing that can bring us into the fullest and truest expression of ourselves … not the expression of what I want people to see, not the expression of what my ego desires, but the expression of my soul, the expression of who I really am, no matter where I am—the weirdness, the vulnerabilities, the pain and traumas, the needs, the wants, the failures, the gifts, the talents, the imperfections, and of course, all of the sweetness that dwells in each of us, wanting desperately to be broken open.