Both Sides Now: Joni Mitchell’s Song, Meaning & Autistic Reflections

Some songs are more than music — they become part of how we understand life. Both Sides Now by Joni Mitchell is one of those songs. First released by Judy Collins in 1967, then recorded by Mitchell herself for her 1969 album Clouds, it has since been covered by artists from Frank Sinatra to Broadway singers. In 2000, Joni Mitchell revisited the song with conductor Vince Mendoza, creating a lush orchestral version that won two Grammy Awards. Across generations, across genres, across decades, the song has endured as a meditation on life’s illusions, its joys, and its contradictions.

For late-diagnosed autistic adults, the song resonates with a special poignancy. It is not just poetry about clouds, love, and life. It is the story of what might have been, of years spent unseen, of masking and grief, and of the soft possibility of self-acceptance. This article will explore the history and cultural impact of Both Sides Now before turning to its meaning through an autistic lens — lyric by lyric, lived truth by lived truth.

The Judy Collins version of Both Sides Now remains a landmark cover that first carried the song to a global audience.

The Story Behind Both Sides Now

Joni Mitchell has shared that she was inspired to write the song while reading Saul Bellow’s novel Henderson the Rain King on a plane. In the book there is a passage about clouds. Mitchell later said she “immediately started writing” after reading it, pulling her notebook from her bag to capture what became one of her most enduring works.

While Mitchell wrote the song, it was Judy Collins who first brought it to the public. Her 1967 recording of Both Sides Now on the album Wildflowers became a hit in the US and UK. Collins’s version won her a Grammy Award for Best Folk Performance and introduced Mitchell’s songwriting to audiences around the world. The Judy Collins version remains one of the most recognized, with her soaring voice giving the lyrics a brightness that made them instantly memorable.

Joni Mitchell recorded her own version two years later. It appeared in May 1969 on her album Clouds, where it served as the title track. Performed with only acoustic guitar and her crystalline voice, it captured the fragility and depth of the lyrics in a way no one else could. Clouds won a Grammy Award for Best Folk Performance, helping establish Mitchell not only as a songwriter but as a defining singer of her generation.

As the title track on the album Clouds, Joni Mitchell’s Both Sides became a defining moment in her early career.

Release History and Timeline

The release history of Both Sides Now stretches across decades. Judy Collins’s version was released in October 1967, quickly becoming a hit single in the US and UK. Joni Mitchell’s own version appeared in March 1969 as part of her album Clouds. In July 2000, Mitchell recorded it again with conductor Vince Mendoza and a full orchestra. This new version appeared on the album Both Sides Now, released later that year. At the Grammy Awards in February 2001, the album won two Grammys, proving that even decades after its first release, the song still spoke to listeners across generations.

Both Sides Now Across Generations

The song’s journey did not stop in the 1960s. It has been covered and reinterpreted by countless artists. Frank Sinatra recorded it, bringing his unmistakable phrasing to the lyrics. Broadway singers have performed it on stage in New York. It has appeared in films, including emotional moments that use its bittersweet tone to underscore a story of love or loss. Each version appeared in a different context, carrying the song into new generations.

Mitchell herself re-recorded the song in 2000 with Vince Mendoza’s lush arrangements of piano and sweeping strings. Her voice, once fragile and high, had deepened with age. This re-recording, released on the album also titled Both Sides Now, won two Grammy Awards and revealed how the same lyrics could transform in meaning across time. The difference between the acoustic guitar version on Clouds and the lush orchestral version decades later is striking. The first carries innocence. The second, survival. For autistic adults, especially those diagnosed late in life, this evolution mirrors our own: the same words, but a different truth when heard through a weathered voice.

The contrast between Mitchell’s crystalline voice on Clouds and her weathered tone with Vince Mendoza’s orchestral arrangement mirrors an autistic arc. We begin sharp and fragile, trying to be heard. With time, our voices deepen, roughen, and carry survival in every note. Both voices are true. Both are us.

Lyrics and Broad Meaning

At its core, Both Sides Now is about illusions and contradictions. Mitchell divides the song into three sections: clouds, love, and life. Each begins with beauty, shifts into disillusionment, and ends with the haunting refrain: “I really don’t know… at all.” Critics have praised the song as one of the greatest ever written, and it frequently appears on lists of the best songs of the 20th century. The lyrics are simple, but they capture something universal: that to live is to constantly balance wonder and disappointment, joy and grief, beginnings and endings.

Lyrics Spotlight: “Ice Cream Castles in the Air”

One of the most quoted lines is “ice cream castles in the air.” It speaks to the sweetness of youthful imagination, the innocent dreams we once carried. For autistic adults, this lyric resonates with particular intensity. Many of us spent our childhoods in worlds of imagination, dreaming freely before the weight of misunderstanding set in. Those castles may have melted in time, but the act of dreaming was real. Life’s illusions are not failures — they are evidence of our capacity for joy and wonder. Even if clouds later obscure them, those dreams remain part of us.

Both Sides Now in Joni Mitchell’s Career

Before Both Sides Now, Joni Mitchell was performing in coffeehouses in Detroit, Toronto, and New York. She was known in folk circles but not yet a household name. The success of the Judy Collins version opened doors, but it was her own recording on Clouds that cemented her reputation as a singer-songwriter. The song helped pave the way for her later masterpieces, including Blue (1971), often cited as one of the greatest albums of all time. Looking back, many critics see Both Sides Now as the song that announced Mitchell’s career to the world, showing that she was not just writing for others but for herself — and for generations to come.

In this arc — from Detroit coffeehouses to New York stages to global acclaim — Joni Mitchell’s Both Sides now stands as both signature song and compass.

Cultural Impact: Films, Broadway, and Other Generations

Over the decades, Both Sides Now has been heard in films, performed on Broadway, and sung in duets across genres. It has appeared in romantic dramas, stage productions, and even television specials. Its use in film often signals an emotional turning point, its bittersweet tone underscoring themes of love, loss, and reflection. Broadway performers have kept it alive for new audiences in New York theaters, while pop and jazz singers continue to reinterpret it. Each generation has found something new in the song, proving its timelessness.

For autistic adults, this multiplicity feels familiar. Just as the same lyrics can sound different in different voices, our own lives have been lived in different voices: masked, unmasked, hidden, seen. Other artists cover the song. We have had to cover ourselves.

An Autistic Interpretation of Both Sides Now

For late-diagnosed autistic adults, the song’s themes of perception, misunderstanding, love, disillusionment, and honesty resonate in ways that feel almost autobiographical. Below, we explore its lyrics through an autistic lens.

“Rows and Flows of Angel Hair” — Autistic Perception

Mitchell describes clouds as “rows and flows of angel hair,” inspired by her reading of Bellow’s Rain King. Autistic perception often feels like this: noticing textures, details, and patterns others overlook. Our way of seeing the world is textured and alive. As children, we were often enchanted by details dismissed by others. Where we saw angel hair, they saw distraction. This lyric reminds us of the joy of seeing differently.

This is why the imagery lands so hard: autistic perception is layered and tactile. Light threads through vapor; edges blur; patterns emerge and dissolve. Where others glance up, we track the gradients, the stillness, the way the sky feels like a room we can finally breathe in.

“But Clouds Got in My Way” — The Grief of Late Diagnosis

Quickly, clouds that carried beauty now block the sun. For late-diagnosed autistic adults, the metaphor is painfully real. The clouds are the years of not knowing, of masking, of exhaustion. “So many things I would have done, but clouds got in my way.” We look back and see the careers we might have pursued, the friendships we might have kept, the love we might have embraced. The grief is real. Naming the clouds is not despair — it is truth, and truth is healing.

We have carried this alone for long enough. We know the cost of years spent unseen — and we also know the power of naming it together. We are not late; we are arriving. We are not broken; we are being understood.

“Moons and Junes and Ferris Wheels” — Love’s Intensity and Confusion

The lyric paints love as carnival magic — moons, Junes, Ferris wheels. Autistic adults often feel love with intensity, honesty, and vulnerability. But then comes the disillusionment: “love’s illusions I recall.” Relationships often carried unspoken rules, invisible signals, expectations we didn’t know existed. Love was both joy and confusion. Both sides, now.

“Tears and Fears and Feeling Proud” — Emotional Depth

Mitchell names contradiction: tears, fears, and pride. Autistic people are often told our emotions are wrong — too much or not enough. But we know our emotions are layered and real. We know what it is to cry in private after masking all day, to fear rejection, and still to feel proud of surviving. This lyric validates that truth. We are not broken for feeling it all. We are human.

“I Really Don’t Know Life at All” — The Honesty of Not Knowing

The refrain may be the truest line of all. After decades of confusion, we can finally admit: we didn’t know. We couldn’t know. The map was incomplete. Late diagnosis reframes everything but does not rewrite the past. To say we don’t know life at all is not failure — it is freedom. It is honesty. And honesty can be liberation.

“So Many Things I Would Have Done” — Grieving What Might Have Been

This lyric carries an almost unbearable weight. For late-diagnosed autistic adults, it is the mirror of our grief. We look back and see the paths we might have taken if only we had known sooner. Careers, friendships, relationships. The things we would have done. And yet, naming this grief is essential. It is not weakness. It is truth. And from truth comes possibility — the chance to write the years ahead differently.

Life’s Illusions and Autistic Truth

The refrain of “life’s illusions” hits differently for late‑diagnosed autistic adults. Illusions are not just dreams — they’re stories we were given about who we were allowed to be. Seeing through them hurts, and it also frees us. Here are a few we are unlearning:

• The illusion of normalcy: that masking forever would keep us safe. Autistic truth: safety grows when we’re allowed to be real.
• The illusion of failure: that burnout, lost jobs, or friendships were personal flaws. Autistic truth: they were mismatches in environments not built for us.
• The illusion of emotional coldness: that we lack empathy. Autistic truth: our empathy runs deep — sometimes so deep it overwhelms the room.
• The illusion of time wasted: that diagnosis came “too late.” Autistic truth: wisdom arrives right on time for the life we have now.
• The illusion of isolation: that we were alone. Autistic truth: there is a vast community learning, unmasking, and rebuilding alongside us.
• The illusion of finality: that change has passed us by. Autistic truth: our next chapter starts in this clarity — gentle, possible, ours.

Aging and the Softness of Acceptance

Mitchell’s 2000 re-recording with Vince Mendoza, featuring piano and lush orchestral arrangements, shows what it means to look back with reflection. Her voice, once fragile, had become deep and weathered. The album Both Sides Now won two Grammy Awards, and critics praised how her career had come full circle. For autistic adults, this version mirrors our own shift: from striving to acceptance. From confusion to clarity. From grief to softness. We cannot undo the past, but we can claim the future. Comfort is not luxury. Self-acceptance is not indulgence. They are survival.

What Autistic Adults Can Take From the Song

• It is okay to grieve what might have been. Naming the clouds is part of healing.
• Contradiction is not weakness. It is truth.
• Not knowing is not failure. It is honesty, and honesty is freedom.
• Seeing both sides is not a curse. It is wisdom hard-won.
• Self-acceptance may come late. But late is still enough.

FAQs: Both Sides Now by Joni Mitchell

What inspired Joni Mitchell to write Both Sides Now?

She was inspired while reading Saul Bellow’s book Henderson the Rain King on a plane. A passage about clouds sparked the idea, and she immediately started writing the song.

Who recorded Both Sides Now first?

The first hit version was the Judy Collins version in 1967. Collins won a Grammy Award for her recording, which introduced Mitchell’s songwriting to the world.

What album is Both Sides Now on?

Mitchell’s own version appeared in 1969 on her album Clouds, where it served as the title track. She re-recorded it in 2000 for the album also titled Both Sides Now.

How many Grammy Awards has Both Sides Now won?

Judy Collins’s version won her a Grammy Award in the 1960s. Joni Mitchell’s 2000 orchestral version with conductor Vince Mendoza won two Grammy Awards, showing the song’s power across generations.

Who else has covered Both Sides Now?

Frank Sinatra recorded it. Broadway singers have performed it. Artists across generations have released their own versions. Each cover highlights the song’s adaptability and timelessness.

Why does Both Sides Now resonate with autistic adults?

Because its themes of perception, love, and life’s illusions echo the lived experience of masking, misunderstanding, and late diagnosis. For autistic adults, it feels like both elegy and anthem.

Conclusion

Both Sides Now by Joni Mitchell is more than a song. It is history, legacy, and lived truth. It began with Judy Collins, became the title track of Clouds, won Grammy Awards in multiple eras, and has been sung by Frank Sinatra, Broadway artists, and countless others. Its lyrics about clouds, love, and life have spoken to listeners for more than fifty years.

For late-diagnosed autistic adults, it is more than history. It is us. We know the clouds. We know life’s illusions. We know the ache of saying, “I really don’t know life at all.” And yet, there is possibility in that honesty. We cannot reclaim the years behind us. But we can live the years ahead with dignity, comfort, and truth. We can sing the song in our own voices — weathered, unmasked, real. And maybe that is enough.