On a cold snowy evening in the high peaks area of the Adirondack Mountain chain Phish was playing the second of a two night stand in the little village built for the 1980 winter Olympic Games. The band's music had really been pushing the envelope that phall. The ability to tap into divine energy and release it with such intricate expression had grown to new levels. Fifteen years after the miracle on ice the Olypic centre saw a miracle of music. All there was inside the venue this night was an ocean of consciousness. Each of us contained a wave that moved the body around with our unique expressions. There was a letting go that allowed for the miracle to manifest. The source had reclaimed its individual pieces as its whole self again. Our body/minds became only vehicles for the animating light of exsistence to have a dance in the world of form. Can still remember that Tweezer reaching into the back of the soul's dark freezer, holding the shaking fear against its body until it became still. It said now let it out, let it all out into the light. Bursting forward was the reprise of humanity; The sliver was gone, oh God was it gone...