Woodstock

In four days is the fortieth anniversary of the Woodstock Festival; I was only twelve years old and actually living in the South Eastern part of Great Brittan at the time when the concert took place. Most of the information that I received about the United States at that time was through the British Broadcasting Corporation augmented by a bit of information through the Armed Forces Network Radio which was basically American Propaganda.

I returned to the United States in October of 1969, after living in Europe for three years, and only then did my young mind become aware of the happenings of America since 1965. It was a culture shock in the grandest scale, in England the hot news was the United Kingdom’s war with Aden; Vietnam was dealt with in a rather liaise-fair manner and the extent of the controversy was downplayed by the British Media. Consequently, I was thrust into the Seventies with the death of Jim Morrison, Jimi Hendricks and Janis Joplin.

Now, back to Woodstock which is the point of this post. Many years later I would come to respect Joni Mitchell for her writing genius and for penning the song Woodstock which has so much captured the event in the hearts of the Western World. I own a complete collection of Joni Mitchell Lyrics and have always viewed popular music as the poetry of our modern era.

Several years after beginning Zen Practice I heard a song on the radio by Joni Mitchell, which was entitled “Moon at the Window.” When I heard this song I immediately knew she had read the poem by the Japanese Monk Ryokan. I offer the explanation of a poem I so love by this beloved monk.

A story is told that, one day when Ryokan returned to his hut he discovered a theif who had broken in and was in the process of stealing the impoverished monk's few possessions. In the thief's haste to leave, he left behind a cushion. Ryokan grabbed the cushion and ran after the thief to give it to him. This event prompted Ryokan to compose one of his best known haikus:

The thief left it behind:
the moon
at the window.

This teaching has come true in my life and many of my friend’s lives. Even though, no one can steal our eternal essence, and no one can take from us our true nature; we have been violated by the thieves of life and of love and of happiness.


Here are Joni’s lyrics to “Moon at the Window”

It takes cheerful resignation
heart and humility
that's all it takes
a cheerful person told me

nobody's harder on me than me
how could they be
and, nobody's harder on you than you
Betsy's blue

she says-Tell me something good!
you know I'd help her out if I only could
oh, but sometimes the light
can be so hard to find

at least the moon at the window--
the thieves left that behind

people don't know how to love
they taste it and toss it
turn it off and on
like a bathtub faucet

oh sometimes the light
can be so hard to find--

at least the moon at the window--
the thieves left that behind

I wish her heart
I know these battles
deep in the dark
when the spooks of memories rattle

ghosts of the future
phantoms of the past
rattle, rattle, rattle
in the spoon and the glass

is it possible to learn
how to care and yet not care--
since love has two faces
hope and despair
and pleasure always turns to fear
I find--

at least the moon at the window--
the thieves left that behind
at least they left the moon
behind the blind
moon at the window

This is a chilling expose of humanness and frailty. I wonder how many sensed this when listening to the song in the early eighties. But now I transgress and want to return to the phenomenal “Woodstock” written immediately after the concert that Joni Mitchell wasn’t allowed to attend because her managers had booked her for the tonight show on the Monday following the concert. Perhaps we wouldn’t have gotten such a memorable capture of the event had she been allowed to perform.



I came upon a child of god
He was walking along the road
And I asked him, where are you going
And this he told me
I’m going on down to Yasgurs farm
I’m going to join in a rock n roll band
I’m going to camp out on the land
I’m going to try and get my soul free
We are stardust
We are golden
And we’ve got to get ourselves
Back to the garden

Then can I walk beside you
I have come here to lose the smog
And I feel to be a cog in something turning
Well maybe it is just the time of year
Or maybe it’s the time of man
I don’t know who l am
But you know life is for learning
We are stardust
We are golden
And we’ve got to get ourselves
Back to the garden

By the time we got to Woodstock
We were half a million strong
And everywhere there was song and celebration
And I dreamed I saw the bombers
Riding shotgun in the sky
And they were turning into butterflies
Above our nation
We are stardust
Billion year old carbon
We are golden
Caught in the devils bargain
And we’ve got to get ourselves
Back to the garden

This is the epic poem of a generation. We are stardust. Yes we are truly the stardust of millennia and she captured it before Carl Sagan’s “Cosmos” so popularized this notion. We are containers of the Dinosaurs, and the cosmic soup that boar all life on this planet. Yet Joni wants us to really understand the point of our lives. We have got to get ourselves back to the garden.

The garden is the analogy for our true selves. It is where we can function outside of thought and control. This is our enlightened nature. This is annutara samyak sambodhi. Can someone else steal this affect of mind? No! There are no theives, there is no enlightened nature! There is nothing but this moment, which flows into the cosmos with perfect naturallness and sunyata. It is this which defines us as human, and this which is the spirit of sixty nine.

I was too young to attend Woodstock, plus I was out of the country. But the after affects of its influence on my will never be shaken or tarnished. May we all celebrate the opening of a generation that happened forty years ago.