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Doc Martens. A Real Community. And What I Learned About The Wildheart Revolution.



As some of you know from my last post, I was at a music festival a couple weeks ago.

10,000 people gathered in the middle of a field, in the middle of Montana, to spend four days, camping, dancing, partying, and listening to music.

This, in and of itself is not all that significant. Festivals happen all the time. Music plays all the time. Partying (sure as heck) happens all the time.

So why was this so unique?

It was Friday evening and my friend and I had just arrived to set up camp. Once we were all set up, we started walking through camp towards the stage.

Familiar faces popped out from tents and campers offering friendly hugs and warm smiles.

Unfamiliar faces said hello and offered us food, drinks, to come sit and chat.

Before we even got to the venue, which was only about a five-minute walk away, we had already shared some food, drink and conversation and taken pictures with friends.

While at the concert, people were respectful.

No one outside the “tent” area had a tent and no one outside the “chair” area had a chair.

People kept their trash to themselves. Not one fight broke out. Someone was there to spray you with water when the heat got to be too much.

People shared their shade and their chairs when not using them. Kids bounced around. People danced about.

Everyone was friendly and smiling.

Now, I grew up in California and lived in a lot of big cities. LA and SF and everywhere in between.

And I didn’t realize it until this weekend, but I had never experienced what true community was up to that point.

A community that looked out for each other. That shared. That smiled. That had common interests and familiarity.

And experiencing this felt like being home. Safe. Comforting. Fun. Like I could relax.

And be myself.

Go lie in the grass by myself when I wanted and go dance in the crowd when I wanted.

It was all accepted because the strength of the community relied on the strength of each individual just being who they were and doing their thing.

And this is the Wildheart Revolution.

I knew I was building a community with Wildheart, but I didn’t quite realize the impact of it until last weekend.

The Wildheart Revolution is people who are like you. People who look out for you.

People who want to help you. People who appreciate you and are interested in your story.

Usually we only think of community as happening in the place we live. But with technology as it is, we can now have community anywhere.

And this is where the Wildheart Revolution lives.

It’s the heartbeat of the best song you’ve heard on a sunny day.

And the breeze that glides over you as you sit on the grass by yourself and write in your journal.

The collective “bounce” of a buncha people loving the same song.

And it’s all yours.

I hope to twirl with you in there. Can’t wait to collectively shake a tail feather with you. And it’s getting sooooo close. Only a little bit more time until the doors of the Revolution swing open.

And I don’t want you to miss a beat. Make sure you put your name here so I can coordinate band practice. :)

So now, tell me—in what ways have you been wanting community?

What does it mean to you to have like-minded people around you?

As always, I love hearing from you, so share your thoughts or stories below.

I’m the one wearing the doc martens,

XO, Sally

4 Responses to Doc Martens. A Real Community. And What I Learned About The Wildheart Revolution.

  1. I think for me, it would be the one thing I very rarely hear, which is someone to say that the ideas I have are cool and unique. Usually, I get the “don’t you know it’s fake” routine, which is old, stale, and boring, or the “old movies have no value” routine, where I have to calmly explain that I can command (and receive) way more than the garage sale $0.50 a title for certain items, or the notion of MessyWorks as a unique form of comedy.

    Detractors don’t bother me much any more, but it would be nice to have someone other than me in the skirt with the pom poms being a cheerleader for my concepts, and wanting to support them, as it only makes the road to the top that much more difficult when everyone you meet is clueless, ignorant, selfish, or a combination of the above, plus more.

  2. Judy N. says:

    Sally- LOOOOVE!!! I swear, you are one of my soul sisters. :) Music and dancing- probably my favorite things in the world.

    I just got out of a difficult (long) relationship. I moved into my own apartment for the first time in my life. I was scared.

    It’s just one building- 8 apartments-

    There is a beautiful lush green back yard. One any given night, I can find one of my neighbors (or several) out there- talking, laughing, even crying- and even, dancing.

    But – When I first moved in about a month ago, I noticed that no one really interacted- other than the random passing in the hallway or sitting outside for a minute-

    But in the last month- something has shifted. People are coming outside more- sitting together more- slowly gaining the courage to go out that back door and sit with the crazy redhead who just moved in. One night, that word “community” popped into my head. This, i realized, is my new community. And I’m helping build it.

    I mentioned the change to a few of my neighbors- (hopefully i can say this without sounding arrogant)… but I’ve heard from more than one that this change started with me. That somehow, I’ve started bringing people together. That, there is something about me, that says “Yeah, come out. You are here- I see you- you are worth getting to know- you (we) are not alone— and you are fantastic just the way you are” It’s been an amazing transformation to watch. A group of us from the building even when out (DANCING! :) ) the other night.

    What’s even more amazing is, while it’s a lot of fun—- there is a real sense of caring about each other and watching out for each other. There is that sense of community in this building, with these amazing new friends and neighbors- a simple acknowledgment that…. we are in this together.

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