Why waste your energy playing games? 

Isn’t it time to cry your tears; 

to shout your passion; 

to dance like Zorba; 

and to let your soul touch 

the Soul of the world?

              William Martin

It was January, 2024 and Reen and I were headed to Brandi Carlile’s Girls Just Wanna Weekend music festival in Mexico.  Reen emailed me this passage suggesting maybe this should be our plan for the weekend. 

I fell in love with Brandi during the pandemic.  Starving for adult women friends, I turned to podcasts, including one where Brene Brown interviewed Brandi about her new memoir, Broken Horses.  I was hooked.  I listened to the audio book and then re-listened to the bonus music chapter on repeat.  This was partially a solution for when my husband was streaming Spotify on the account we shared and I had to find an alternative steaming option.  Needless to say, I was obsessed with Brandi and her storytelling, incredible voice and stunning lyrics.

Fast-forward a few years and the pandemic had waned but my love for Brandi only grew stronger.  One of my more life-changing weekends was when my sisters and Reen traveled to Denver to see Brandi at Red Rocks.  I was half-way high on weed and women as Brandi took the stage with the perfect mashup of Over the Rainbow and Stay Gentle.  “Darling, stay wild if you can,” she sang and I made a vow to do just that. 

When I landed back at my desk at work, following that first Brandi Red Rocks show, all I wanted was a time machine.  The next best thing was to impulsively buy a 2-person package to Brandi’s music festival  a few months later.  I wasn’t sure who, if anyone, would join me (or how I could justify paying for it) but I couldn’t imagine not being there.

Reen agreed to go with me and we met up for 4 nights of perfect music in the Brandi bubble, as the festival attendees were known to refer to it.  Brandi has been a very public lesbian for the entirety of her career, and while she attracts a wide base, the vast majority of the super fans are also gay or queer.  And so this “bubble” was the most safe, inclusive and joy-filled place most of them had ever been.  For once, they weren’t the minority.  And I felt an overwhelming freedom, for – and with them.  Almost like getting a contact high, I loved everything about this rainbow-filled, queer community.

We danced our hearts out.  Reen acted as though it was me who would somehow manage to shift and settle us into a spot in the front of the crowd, but she was an equal partner – pointing out gaps ahead and politely nudging our way to fill the available space.

My relationship with Reen feels like it transcends language.  She feels like a soulmate from another life.  She is wise and curious.  Vulnerable and adventurous.  She makes me feel seen and held, certain and confused.  We spent one entire day taking turns asking each other questions from a list I had found online, intended to build deeper connection and learn about another person.  We laughed and cried our way through the list amid journaling workshops and pool concerts, buffets and bottomless gin & tonics.  And we closed out the night dancing to Lucius followed by the “Ladies of the 80s” where all the artists from across the weekend dressed up and performed covers of 80s songs.  It was incredible.  Mostly because everyone felt so free and unfiltered.  As the night came to a close, we made our way back to our room and I continued to blast Annie Lennox and Mary Chapin Carpenter; Brandy Clark and Janelle Monae on my portable Bluetooth speaker.  And I danced and jumped on top of the bed like I was a little girl.  Singing and spinning until I collapsed.

We danced like Zorba.  And I did feel like my soul had touched the soul of the world.  Even for a few fleeting moments.