Sexual liberation was at the heart of the social and spiritual upheaval of the 1960s and ’70s. With the advent of the Pill, intimacy was no longer tethered to reproduction—and everything began to shift.

Divorce shed its stigma, and single-parent households, for better or worse, became common across all walks of life. Once rigid in its doctrines, even religion began to loosen its grip, offering a more flexible, no-fault approach to faith.

Psychedelic drugs were a defining force in the counterculture of the 1960s and ’70s. Substances like LSD, magic mushrooms, mescaline, and peyote propelled countless baby boomers into altered states of consciousness—brief but profound journeys into expanded awareness and a deep sense of interconnectedness.

It’s an experience I’ve never forgotten and, if I’m honest, one I sometimes long for.

Later, as a parent, I found myself caught in a bind. The “just say no” approach to drug education didn’t align with my lived experience, leaving me unsure how to talk to my daughter about both the risks and the revelations of that long, strange trip.

Rock ‘n’ Roll became another powerful vehicle for the free-spirited souls of the era—hippies and tie-dye-clad fans of bands like the Allman Brothers, Grateful Dead, Quicksilver Messenger Service, and later, the Dave Matthews Band.

While some grandparents dismissed it as the devil’s music, mine had a different view—he recognized that this sound wasn’t going anywhere.

For many baby boomers, especially those who had drifted from traditional religion, music spoke to something deep and unshakable. It was more than a genre; it was a movement—and there was no turning back.

I continued attending the local Episcopal church, with my father’s full support—even though he was an atheist.

However, this was a time of sweeping social and cultural change, and I was deeply conflicted about my faith and place within the church.

As long-standing institutions were being questioned and redefined, the church, too, came under the lens of doubt.

Its teachings became increasingly disconnected from the chaotic, shifting world around me. That growing dissonance led me to seek meaning outside traditional doctrine, prompting a personal journey into new spiritual landscapes and more profound self-discovery.

The Civil Rights Movement, the Vietnam War, the Sexual Revolution, and other sweeping social shifts profoundly challenged long-held values and belief systems. The church I attended struggled to respond in timely or relevant ways, creating a growing disconnect between me and God. The church’s positions on issues like race, sexuality, and war no longer reflected my own evolving perspectives, prompting a reevaluation of faith and a search for spiritual connection outside traditional frameworks.

Looking back, I see the movement’s legacy as deeply mixed.

While the movement awakened many sincere seekers, it opened the door to opportunists, disillusionment, and spiritual missteps.

Several of my friends were pulled into fringe ideologies, prosperity gospel circles, or even cults.

I often found myself teetering on the edge of those same paths—curious, searching, and tempted. However, in those moments, I could almost feel my mother’s hand gently guiding me back, steering me away from choices that might have led me somewhere I couldn’t return from.

Relationships often bore the weight of these shifting beliefs—divorce became increasingly common as ideals clashed with reality.

My sense of separation from God was deeply personal and shaped by many painful experiences—grief over my mother’s death, confusion over why no family wanted us, the trauma of growing up in a home filled with abuse, and the burden of having to hide my true gifts.

That distance didn’t come from disbelief but heartbreak, disillusionment, and the noise of daily survival.

It was the first time I felt disconnected from the divine—a moment that marked a turning point in my spiritual journey.

That ache eventually became a mirror, prompting deep reflection and planting the seeds for a renewed, more authentic connection.