Nothing Left, but love: A Weekend in Guthrie

“This is my simple religion; there is no need for temples; no need for complicated philosophy. Our own brain, our own heart is our temple; the philosophy is kindness.” – Dalai Lama

I stood elbow-to-elbow, skin-to-skin, within a small group of campers within a massive group of concert attendees at the Gentlemen of the Road Stopover Tour. We were in more ways than one cosmically connected to each other, as well as connected to the surrounding 30,000 people that were dancing, singing, crying and experiencing what one can only describe as euphoria. Maybe it was the blistering heat that lashed at our skin like a whip for three days straight. Perhaps its dehydrating malicious rays gave us all a false sense of affection for one another. I like to think it was deeper than that, in fact, I know it was. I had only met a handful of these people Thursday and as for the loving masses, I’d hardly spoken to a fraction of them. Yet, here we all were, a part of one another, a part of something bigger and better, something meaningful.

Mumford and Sons finished their set list and exhausted, both physically and mentally, the group and myself began to wade through the multitudes back to our campsite for the weekend in Guthrie Oklahoma’s Cottonwood Flats. The next morning would bring an end to an amazing weekend that still has me awestruck.

As we sat around the small propane grill and chatted about life, about our newfound friends’ 12-hour trek back to Chicago, a friend of mine stared blankly into the dark. Several minutes went by before she turned and said, “I have nothing left, but love.”

That really stuck with me. I carried it the rest of the night and into the next day, meditated on it as we took down the tent and loaded up the car. I agreed, after the concert that night, there was nothing left but love.

But I’ve walked that path before. I’ve experienced the sense of communalism that comes when likeminded individuals meet and share experiences. What I was afraid of were the coming days. When I was removed from the festival, where love was not so easy, when I was back to the real world where holding the door for someone became a task instead of an innate response, wouldn’t it all fade away like the times before?

It is hard to see the good in people during your day to day. I’ll admit, for some it’s easier than others, but at some point the majority of us just give up and fold back into the normality of ugliness.

My mother called me when I got home from the festival Sunday night and we chatted briefly. She shared something with me that opened the floodgates. Two high school friends of mine had contacted my little brother Saturday and taken him to a college football game. They didn’t need to. They could have found a friend their age to go, could have sold the ticket. They could have done a number of things differently, but instead they cared enough to take the time and remember one individual that looks up to them more than they will ever know. As the tears ebbed down my face, I came to the realization that just because I was back to reality, just because every person around me might not have the same loving qualities of those I experienced over the weekend, didn’t mean it wasn’t out there. It didn’t mean it was time to fold back in the crowd.

In life, we experience connections. Singular, within the confines of a small group or even on a cosmic level, no matter the significance or size, throughout the years we become connected to a number of people. It’s important to seek out the good in those people that we connect with. It’s important to treat them with outstanding kindness. If we strip away all the ugly, all the hatred and hurt, all the want and lust, we’re left with a singular emotion. But let me tell you that what’s left is by far stronger than any external force man could create. It’s stronger than we ourselves ever imagine being, and it’s something we must consciously gain, something we must perpetually establish within the confines of a global community. It’s love, and when there’s nothing left but that, we will soar.