How can I live a sparkly life? #3

FLOURISH

Living with a flourish is one of the greatly under-looked charms of a sparkly life. Think of a woman wearing a broad-brimmed hat. She smiles and holds open a door for you, taking off her hat and sweeping it with a flourish, as in, You go ahead. There’s both goodwill and flamboyance in her gesture.

As people who grew up in the 60s may remember, when a person dressed to go to a “be-in” there were a lot of flourishes involved. The first “Human Be-in” held in San Francisco in 1967 was like a sit-in or a teach-in, though much more psychedelically-drug-based. After that, be-ins spread across North America like flames on dry newspapers. They embodied counter-cultural values and were great fun.

In my memory, be-ins in my city, Vancouver, were generally held on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon in parks. There were always bands playing, really good ones. For free. This was in the days before social media. Most be-ins didn’t have posters advertising them; someone would just tell you, “Hey, Chilliwack is playing in Stanley Park, 1:30, or Country Joe and the Fish,” and you’d find out exactly where in Stanley Park, it was 1,000 acres after all, the biggest urban forest in the world, plus all the beaches. My friends and I were too young to drive, we’d be bussing and walking.

 When we arrived, we’d mingle with crowds of magnificently dressed longhairs, some wearing bell bottoms and some wearing dresses, maxi, mini, smocked; there was no standard outfit. Males and females wore beads. What people came in was often hand-crafted, sometimes sparkly, with ingenious use of feathers, velvet, or piping on the pants, possibly contrasting bands of colour on the hems of skirts.

Easter Be-in, Vancouver, 1968. Scary to think I was likely there!

What did we think, if we all turned up looking like angels and beaming out love into the universe, the world would mellow and conform to our higher thoughts? Something like that. It was the kind of hopeful thinking that led Vietnam war protestors to place daffodils, stem-first, in the barrels of rifles pointed at them by the National Guard. Daft, but the latter took courage.

Photograph from Vancouver Easter Be-in, Michael de Courcy

Psychedelic fabrics have gone out of fashion now, and I can’t say I miss them, though I remain fond of paisleys. But the idea of dressing as if I am costuming myself, that I like. The person in the mirror is the hardest to please. I would prefer not to look at myself and shudder. Why not put on something colourful and look put together? After all, when I wheelbarrow out partial sheets of concrete board, a chunk of plywood and a roll of vapour barrier to my neighbour’s free table (I have his permission), this stuff counts.

I’m being silly and not. Dressing with a flourish is one way of thanking the universe. It’s a spiritual practice for me. I’m here now. This is a fleeting blip of time. Like everyone on Pender Island, I don’t want to count the number of dead cedars I can see out my windows. I honour and thank them for being but I can’t bring them back. What living with a flourish can do for me is keep my spirits up enough to see the trees.

Of course, I’m not going to wear dress-up clothes to do chores. But just for myself, in the morning I’ll put on earrings and a silver bracelet. I’m only walking the dog: so what?

A final form of flourish that I like to practice, so miniature it’s like a bonsai, is complimenting people. Why not say to a cashier at the grocery store, “That sweater looks nice with your eyes”? Or maybe the young woman giving me acupuncture has a light touch with the needles, that’s worth remarking on. In a way, it’s like opening a door for someone and gesturing with your hand: go through. There’s a showiness for sure, though the action itself also points to a sense of order.

An appreciative flourish never hurt anyone. And if it gives us courage to face the day or even ourselves in the mirror, why not? That’s sparkly.