When is the Price of Belonging Too High? Set in one of the best known of the large 1960s countercultural communes, this gripping memoir brings alive twenty-one-year old Jenny Brown’s journey as she faces a series of extreme physical and emotional challenges that transform her from a skeptical, lonely, outsider to a revered member of the commune's inner circle. Jenny’s craving for love leads her into a series of intense emotional relationships. The most important of these motivates her to overcome her self-doubt and achieve in a way that brings her closer and closer to the man she believes is her soulmate and to the commune’s young, charismatic leader. But when the truths her devotion to the commune’s teachings have taught her come into conflict with the path she sees its leader—and her lover—taking, Jenny is forced to make a devastating, life-changing choice. "A very absorbing story, with a really blazing honesty about it that made it riveting." —Diana Gabaldon, 1991 email, referring to an early draft. I could talk for hours about what makes this memoir worth reading, But it's a lot simpler just to let you read the first page and get a taste of what you'll find in it.  Following Energy  Chapter One July, 1970 I was on the road, headed for Colorado, going back to the only place I'd found peace outside of a man's arms. I wasn't looking for love—I couldn't handle much more of it. Three weeks ago I'd had three lovers—real lovers, no matter what anyone had said. I'd loved them all, but even so the whole thing had flamed up like pitch pine and guttered out. Now I was on my own, with no one, looking for a place to start over. I was twenty-one years old, almost twenty-two, but I felt like I was a hundred. Paul had finally gotten around to building that house in the country we'd dreamed about together through the long years since the Summer of Love. He was building it with his own two hands, just like he'd said he would. But he wasn't building it for me. Tony was on a ship headed for Viet Nam, seaman first class in the merchant marine. He'd loved me and opened me up to the music inside me. But I'd known all along when he gave himself to me so completely that he could do it because he knew he would be moving on, and because I knew it too. And even Thom, my friend, who had been there to console me when Tony left—Thom who didn't comment, but just took me out for dinner and did his best to show me there was room in bed for laughter—even he was gone. He'd gotten the Call after seeing Ram Dass in New Hampshire. When I'd followed him there, he'd told me kindly but firmly that it was time for him to go out searching for his Teacher. Alone. Now he was out there, thumb out, chasing God down the interstate. Only my pride was keeping me from packing it in and heading back to Boston. I'd told Thom I was going to find something on my own. But my heart wasn't in it. I wished I was like Thom. I wished I could feel that I was answering a call or on a quest. But I wasn't. I was just driving west because there was nothing left for me to do. If I hadn't been so tired, if my brother had put me up somewhere better than a pup tent the previous night, if I'd just had something decent for breakfast, I'd never have taken the detour to the Warwick commune. But, of course, I did.