Impressions of the Rainbow in Rio Claro

Hi there.

Have you ever heard the one about the Rainbow Warriors? They say there was a Native American prophecy, usually attributed to the Hopi or Cree tribes, that when the health of the Earth was in crisis, a community of people of all races would band together to save her, revitalizing the indigenous ways of love and reverence with the natural environment. This legend has spread through hippie and environmentalist groups since the early ‘70s, inspiring a movement of worldwide Rainbow Gatherings. At each, self-initiated members of the Rainbow Family of Living Light come together for the four weeks of a full moon-cycle to practice and model a nonhierarchical, nonmonetized, off-grid lifestyle in harmony with the Earth.

This month, I attended my first Rainbow Gathering at the encouragement of a young friend my path crossed while traveling in Costa Rica. At first, I was skeptical of making the trek to spend a week or more in the woods with a bunch of nomadic strangers, especially knowing how both camping and festivals can push my emotional capacity. Finally, he convinced me by showing me pictures of the waterfalls and framing it as a dopamine detox from the norm of technological and commercial over-stimulation.

Who could resist?

One week later, I’ve returned from the jungles of southern Costa Rica to the world of restaurants and cell service, with immense gratitude I took the leap to follow his advice. While it took patience to drop in and toggle between my needs for solitude and group connection, the Gathering presented many profound opportunities for connection with the elements and my fellow humans through swims, songs, massage trades, mushroom hunts, fire circles, kitchen collaboration, and much more.

This Rainbow Gathering isn’t necessarily representative of all those around the world. Thanks to its remote setting, this one was much more intimate and contained than many happening elsewhere, especially in the US, where alcohol and aggression can sometimes violate the stated values of peace, love, and unity. As with any event or collective that’s this loosely coordinated and leaderless, results may vary.

Could the attendees of these disorganized but oft-wondrous events really be the Rainbow Warriors of legend? Well… here’s the thing: the legend of the Rainbow Warriors isn’t really a Native American prophecy. It was actually started by a 1962 Evangelical Christian tract called Warriors of the Rainbow by William Willoya and Vinson Brown.

So… ahem… what then? Does this revelation of the “fakelore” behind the Rainbow Family discredit their efforts to commune? Maybe, in the eyes of those already skeptical that a healthier and saner way of relating than the global capitalist norm can exist. To the many like me who’ve witnessed the many magical moments of openhearted kindness and beauty that can characterize a Rainbow Gathering — no way.

The prophecy sometimes attached to the Gatherings may be misrepresented, but the experiences are real. Mixed maybe, but real. While it’s important not to appropriate indigenous cultures to lend legitimacy to this fanciful self-styling as world saviors, that’s not at all what I saw going on at the Rainbow in Rio Claro. Instead, I saw a couple dozen people from throughout the Western world sharing love in many forms with humility, grace, and respect for each other.

Folklore almost always comes with a significant margin of error, and it’s accuracy to reality depends on the eye of the beholder. Rather than prophecy, the legend of the Rainbow Warriors belongs to the realm of myth. Myths empower us to transcend the mundanity of our usual perspectives to access a greater prism of wonder through which to see the world. Even a short-term immersion in the romance of nature, rather than the cynicism of civilization, can accomplish the same. For cultures throughout history, festivals have often fulfilled this same function that Rainbows aim to: reimagining and integrating a more ideal version of how we can live together.

So I could take the license to say that, yes, we are Rainbow Warriors, practicing ways of being rooted through Mother Earth and recognition of our innate oneness despite the trappings of emotional and cultural differences that can get in the way. You, on the other hand, may say we're just a bunch of hippie dreamers making it up as we go along, and I wouldn't be offended enough to argue. After all, I was acculturated to think of hippie as a dirty word too, and it’s only through repeated exposure to the authenticity of people I would’ve previously written off as such that I’ve let this prejudice go and learned to feel at home amongst them.

At least we're making it up for ourselves, based on faith in nature's abundance and kindness, rather than following what someone else made up for us, based on the fear of God and scarcity of his salvation. Ultimately, we have the power to decide based on how we live and speak where the truth resides.

Now, I present to you another poetic catalog of some of the specific sense memories from the Rainbow in Rio Claro I’ll be carrying along with me. Enjoy.

Impressions of the Rainbow in Rio Claro

Red felt hearts affixed to fence posts along a rocky riverside trail,

Bromeliads growing from the grooves of a rusty tin roof,

Grasshoppers and katydids crawling around plastic chess pieces,

Fresh-woven dreamcatchers spinning on a wooden sign reading, “Welcome Home Family.”

A spring fed washing station where the water always flows through a hose,

A sponge soaking in a bin of exfoliating ash in lieu of soap,

Fallen leaves floating in the fermented remains of last night’s tamarind tea,

The fleshy seeds saved for replanting on a banana palm leaf.

Blossoms of purple petals and golden hearts strewn amidst muddy roots,

A barefoot troop parading through the woods to the car for a refresh of storebought food,

Another stopping over cracked-to-dry cowpies in search of bluish-bruising shrooms,

Half the food circle swatting fire ants off their ankles while still singing.

A young Frenchmen with a machete trying to identify ayahuasca vines,

Women practicing acro-yoga and hula hooping nude beside the clothesline,

Human beauties bathing in the mossy mineral falls of the Rio Delicias,

Soft skin sunning to dry at dawn and dusk, splayed out on fossilized rocks.

A pit viper coiled in the cavity of a boulder between hammock sleeping spots,

Basilisk lizards skipping like saviors across the cascades,

Dark gray river rocks that collapse into chips under each step,

Highlighter clouds hugging the verdant canopy-covered mountain ridges.

Tico locals with their horses & dogs catching forearm-sized fish on bamboo sticks,

Blue morpho, yellow zebra, and all other shades of butterfly transforming whoever beholds their spiraling flight patterns,

Swallow couples flitting home to their canyon-side nests for the night,

Just as the bats are coming out.

Ice cream bean seeds repurposed as piercing-free earrings,

A circle laying in the grass fake laughing until the laughter becomes real,

All the angels' voices and touches overlapping to grace the teary faces of our nearly departed,

Caressing cuddle puddles, heartfelt song circles, natural knowledge exchanges, and abiding eye contact,

Regenerating the deep trust in life's true riches.

Thank you, Rainbow Family,

For all this and more.

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