Colorado’s Prayer Flags Apparently Not Working
By Paddy O’Connell
First found in the Himalayas, Tibetan prayer flags quickly came to Colorado via the speedy international highway of cultural appropriation. From ski town skids to Aztec print tank top-wearing bros to floppy festival hat gals, prayer flags unfurl all over the Centennial state, especially in the Instagram-worthy, rent-paid-for-by-her-parents apartment of that friend who goes to Burning Man to “find her center.” However, given the global pandemic and the state’s population teetering between crushing hopelessness and another trip to the refrigerator to see if anything has changed in there, Colorado’s colorful cloth spirituality banners seem to be ineffective.
“These little mountain bandanas are like not working. I’ve burned sage and lit my favorite candle from Anthrologie while envisioning my truth, and like, not even a flap outta these flags,” said LoHi resident Kinsley White. “I’m trying to launch my yoga-inspo brand and I’m just not vibing with that kind of energy. Oh, and like, the whole covid thing is like still way a thing too.”
Still way a thing indeed. When pressed on the use of prayer flags in the fight against the Coronavirus and whether or not they could help Colorado residents “live their best life,” head of the state’s pandemic response team, Dr. Flauci said, “That’s not really how science works.” Not with that kind of attitude it won’t. Flauci’s full reaction was hidden beneath a tie-dyed N95 mask. “Ya know, I saw the Dead when Jerry was alive,” continued Flauci.
Carrying Coloradans’ spiritual and existential aspirations to the heavens or not, at the time of publication prayer flags continue to fly all over the sate, waving next to other bastardized relics of someone else’s religious traditions, as well as those itty bitty, really cute succulents.
The Himalayas could not be reached for comment.
Paddy “PaddyO” O’Connell is a word nerd and a professional chit chatter, which essentially means a freelance writer, creator, storyteller, and multimedia producer. When he’s not practicing Footloose inspired dance moves, Patrick Swayze-esque hair flips, and grooming my mustache to resemble Tom Selleck’s lip caterpillar, he can be found in the mountains — mostly likely being a bit loud and doing something a lot weird. He works and adventures out of Carbondale, Colorado.