Time

In the past few months I've been able to create more time in my life & I'm so grateful.  & I feel guilty.

For years I worked fairly long hours at a few jobs-- or maybe just comparative hours for someone in their late twenties-early thirties in the eastern seaboard.  This winter Kevin made his case that I could teach yoga, Officiate weddings & baptisms on some weekends, plan a few trips a year, & work with him on landscaping.  The idea is that slowly we can self-create our schedule & prioritize more time at home growing food, baking bread from scratch, doing renovations ourselves, along with our creative & social justice pursuits.  After some negotiations I agreed, leaving a waitressing job that had been very good to me with gratitude & trepidation.

At first I bugged.  It felt really weird to be accountable to myself.  It felt weird to have these hours that I was responsible for shaping.  I worried (& worry) about bills "in this economy" & feel guilt that I was able to leave a job when so many are losing theirs.

Now I feel freaking spoiled.  So many projects that had been filed under "when I have time" are now possible to realize.  That's scary.  It felt frightening to approach projects that felt more deeply bound to my passions-- like writing or knowing plants.  It took a few months but I've given each week a general shape & approach each activity as a practice with the priority being to stay consistent.  & I'm truly grateful for this time & really hope that Kevin's right-- that we can indeed do this!

While at Goddard we took a workshop with one of his favorite professors.  Eva is a historian who gave a general overview towards time devoted to work, historically, in the Western world.  While painting broad brush strokes she offered the sales pitch that modern technology drives convenience & saves time.  Obviously, that idea is beginning to be contested.  She offered some data on the hours most people in the Western world work today & contrasted it with medieval serfs.  Today, most of us work far more hours than medieval serfs.  While medieval serfs were often engaged in back-breaking, exploitative labor, they also had religious holidays throughout the year when all work stopped.  Today, given that smartphones can reach us wherever, whenever, that convenience trumps ideas of health & well-being, & that workaholism is applauded, there is very little real rest.

Therein lies some of my guilt.  I know many people who have to work incredibly strenuously to survive.  Much of my activism is directed towards all of us having health-- access to shelter, food, rest, & some notion of freedom.  I also know people who don't have to work long hours, but do, out of addiction, some deep drive, competition, & because it's generally respected.  People who sacrifice themselves to work are often congratulated as self-less.  Unfortunately, in most employments working in this way will eradicate a sense of self.

A group of friends has begun to gather occasionally & play games in the park.  I was remembering that my grandparents used to play in softball leagues.  Certainly, some of these hobbies still exist but they're far less common.  No one has time.  My grandfather was an engineer-- the guys he played with did all types of work.  Some were mechanics, some were doctors.  They had more sense of community because they had more time to create it, together, after they worked reasonable hours.

They were also fairly multidimensional people.  Some of them specialized, certainly if it helped them offer more in their field, but they often developed hobbies & talents well away from their work lives.  Lawyers played music in bands, welders painted on the weekends.

When I was working more hours pieces of myself had to fall away.  An early, coveted love of writing & the practice of it became filed under, "when I have time."  I had to pay bills, survive, & build a life.  I'm so grateful to still be in that process while also having the time to live it.

Towards Strong & Free

Snoozy Sunday afternoon.  Burying my head in the stinky neck of a cat who was skunk-sprayed two nights ago.  Warm after-glow of finishing a good book.  Listening to Kevin play guitar, shifting range & approach towards his own voice in that old Folk chestnut, "John Henry."

That good book is bound intimately to this dreamy feeling-- "The Good Life" by Scott & Helen Nearing.  I mentioned the book in an earlier post.  It landed, literally, on our doorstep, thanks to the consideration of a good friend.  We're paying it forward by mailing it to other friends, so they too can receive surprise inspiration, & maybe the postal service will stay alive for a few more years.

The Nearings consider health.  Not only how to attain it, but what it is!  Aptly, they describe that it's often defined in relief-- what it isn't.  They seek a definition but they also seek its realization.  Health becomes built into their life along with soil under nails from long hours growing garden-fresh food, placing stones in the walls to create shelter, and words on paper to offer their experience to others.  Health is attended to the way my parents suggest I cultivate a retirement fund or a presence on the stock market.  (I think my attention to health could potentially supplant at least the latter if not ease the former.)  Offered as evidence, the Nearings cite a trip they took to China.  They describe the practice common in this region, at that time, of paying doctors regularly until someone became ill.  Then the doctor's fees were stopped until health was returned.  Obviously, health was incentivized and disease treated as abnormal.

I would never want to suggest to judge or diminish the importance of treating troubling symptoms.  I do love the idea of placing value & priority on enabling health.  Thus, Chinese doctors often prescribed food, rest, or activity to prevent future bouts of illness (& loss of income).  The Nearings juxtapose this versus the US system.

I also found myself highlighting the Nearings' description of visitors to their various farms.  They write, "People wanted freedom at all levels-- freedom from work, from discipline, from community responsibility."  I really respect their bravery in this characterization.  Of course, they offer that they too were far from perfect.  I've heard multiple visitors describe Scott, especially, as rigid & the dynamic between Scott & Helen as pretty paternalistic.  They were also of a different age-- Scott was born before the dawn of the Twentieth Century.  Most of the visitors they're referring to came into the 60s & beyond.  I've often found within myself a sense of entitlement & laziness that I would love to excise.  I'm seeking that fine line of self-respect coupled with a willingness to work my fair share & only consume my fair share.  & I see within myself as well a longing for freedom, but not the counterweight, a longing to actively create & work for my freedom.

Scott & Helen write of finding a good deal of freedom by relinquishing a lot of materialism & living off of what they could grow, find, & re-create.  All of this freedom cost a lot of consistent work & attention.  Their visitors often wanted the fruits of the labor, without the labor.

From my vantage some of that sense of entitlement is generational & a lot of it is linked to class.  I remember telling my grandmother that I chose to dry my clothes on a clothes line instead of using a dryer.  She said, "But your grandfather & I worked hard so you wouldn't have to do that sort of thing."  I responded, "I think your way was better."

The next time I visited her she held my hand.  "Your hand is so rough!"  She exclaimed.  "Well," I answered, "I guess it's a few things.  I wash my floors with a rag, squatting on the floor.  & I've begun doing pull-ups at the playground across the street.  I think both these things have caused calluses."

She wanted me to be her conception of a lady.  I want to be strong.  I want to be free.  & I want to earn it.

Possible

Sunday was an unusually cool day for Philly events.  Bartram Garden's hosted a Honey Festival & GreenPhilly had a fair on South Street.  We hit the open fields of Bartram's first.  Kevin was hobbling around on a bruised up hip after having fallen skate-boarding in the middle of the night.  I kept forgetting to wait for his slow limping when I caught a glimpse of another hard to find native plant for sale or saw dripping scoops of Little Baby's Ice Cream.

We went to a demonstration of one of their hives.  I felt calm & comfortable until about a half hour in.  Then I was itchy & nervous.  It made me want to leave because my understanding is the bees sense this restlessness & become agitated themselves.  We walked a little away under an Osage Orange tree to relax.  Kevin asked, "How will we have bees?"  I thought about it, & responded, "There won't be a crowd & I'll have to work to stay calm."  

Our ultimate hope is for chickens & bees in our small backyard farm, but we both think it's wisest to wait.  For one, we want to be sure none of our neighbors have severe allergies.  Also, we'll have to push the township to change some of their codes.  But all things seem possible.

An awesome friend, Mike, sent Kevin & I Helen & Scott Nearing's, "The Good Life."  The authors were Lefty school teachers in NYC in the 1930s.  Watching the financial meltdown that lead to the Great Depression, & growing fascist strains internationally, they methodically began considering an alternative life.  Ultimately, they elected to become as self-sufficient as possible in the wilds of Vermont.  

You should read the book.  Especially if you're curious about how they arrived at this conclusion-- read the book.  The early pages gripped me immediately.  This book was intended for Kevin & he hasn't gotten a whiff of it yet.  Reading their description of the financial crisis feels incredibly current.  Change a few names & their analysis of global unrest is pertinent.  Not only were they radicals, environmentalists, but they were animal rights advocates who ate vegan & wouldn't have domesticated animals used on their land.  They composted!  They had a composting toilet!  At each chapter head they quote their inspirations-- most of the authors cited wrote centuries ago.

I feel so uplifted orienting myself in this way.  They quote authors from the 1500s questioning common diet & urging the reader towards whole fruits & vegetables for optimal health.  They quote vegetarians advocating for animals centuries ago!  

This reading evokes so many responses within me-- one, I consider my own grandparents who were so formed by the Great Depression.  In some ways, I always deeply respected how this had oriented them.  They were frugal & cautious.  Realizing that I've come of age in a time of uncertainty, in some ways I'm grateful for that shifted perspective.  Like the Nearings I don't feel secure linking all my earnings to a single career, or stocks, or many other prescribed methods of financial health-- no more than I feel physically healthy by relying solely on pharmaceutical medication.  I feel increasingly secure linking my physical & financial security to land. 

What I mean by this is I'm trying to diversify my skills & my sources of sustenance.  I work jobs for money (because the mortgage company doesn't barter) but I'm also learning to grow more food so I have to buy less.  When I had strep throat last spring I went to a doctor & took antibiotics.  However, as often as possible I try to practice preventative medicine in the form of a healthy, plant-based diet & active lifestyle.  I try to be outside often for my physical health and mental well-being.

So much of this is unfamiliar to me.  However, all things are possible.

The Nearings began living this way when they were in their 50s!  They learned on the ground as well.  They write extensively about building in stone.  They found it creatively satisfying, physically demanding, & beneficial towards each individual project.  They encourage the reader to begin developing habits that will enable each of us to build in stone.  During the description of one project, a stone garden wall they built in Maine, they casually mentioned that it took twelve years to finish!  & that at it's finish Scott was almost 90!  

I freaking love it.  I love that my timeline can be expansive.  I love that this reminds me to reset my expectations.  I love that this reminds me to use my whole life to pursue the life that feels worthwhile.  & I love that I can potentially be vibrant, active, & engaged until I move back to soil.

I think Kevin & I can have chickens and bees.  As long as we move steadily & attentively, we're creating the possibility.  If we tried to plow through, hurry & install chicken coops, we could easily be cited by the township, be embroiled in a big, discouraging battle, & ultimately give up the entire project.  Nope.  I want to be 90, tending my bees, building my stone wall.

Soul Fire Farm, Yurt, Grafton Peace Pagoda

After Kevin graduated Goddard (see last post) we headed southwest to Grafton, NY, where our friends had erected a yurt on The Soul Fire Farm.  We were so captivated by the land, growing food, wild sheep dog named Ro, chickens, beautiful people, & the yurt, that we took no photos!  We shared a delicious meal with our friends, their friends, interns who became friends... all grown on the land.  Afterwards Kevin & I followed Taina, Gaetano, & their kids to the yurt.  We fell asleep talking & playing music.  Taina, Gaetano, & Kevin collaborated on songs.  I drifted to sleep dreaming of pirate love.

We woke in the morning & wandered back to Soul Fire Farm to share breakfast, witness Leah & Jonah dance, & Leah demonstrate her mad aerial silk skills.  Unfortunately, we had to be back in South Jersey so we moved on.  We drove a little ways, maybe less than a mile, & arrived here:

 The Grafton Peace Pagoda.  This beautiful, sacred structure emerges suddenly from the forest.  Moments before we'd been watching wild turkeys & now this.  We moved through the grounds watching what Jun-sun, the care-taker, had built through faith & patience.

 Our buddy, Yabisi!  Wise soul.  When Taina was pregnant with him I used to drive her to the birth center for appointments with her midwife.  We later realized her midwife was Eva, the professor who just graduated Kevin!  (See last post)

 Taina & Gaetano's miracle daughter, Caona.

 Taina helped me understand the scope & depth of Jun-san's life.  Jun-san has always been a spiritual activist.  She's fought for political prisoners her whole life.  Her journey is walking & fasting to draw attention towards social justice.  She gave me two cranes & a note from her last walk around Lake Ontario to stop nuclear activity in Fukushima, Japan.  It twirls on my rear-view mirror & reminds me of her, her work, & legacy.

 Unfortunately Gaetano was at work, so we didn't get to include him in the photos.

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San Marcos, Guatemala

Yesterday my husband & I had seven hours to kill as we drove home through the Eastern Shore.  It's a great drive.  Tons of crape myrtles & roadside farms.  Tons of time to swap stories & listen to music.  

Kevin recently came across a story of a man who had been eating only what he grew.  Certainly no easy feat, but a recognizable goal as many of us become increasingly attentive to place, environment, & health.  Over time, he decided to instead eat only what he could forage.  His explanation was that pleasure seeking ultimately resulted in suffering.  My ears perked, because this idea is found in much Buddhist thinking, though I don't believe this man self-identified as Buddhist.  He felt that seeking certain flavors or foods ultimately limited his exposure to knowing deeply what the world already provides.  I'm sure he experienced sacrifice & struggle, but he spoke of finding abundance & sheer, unexpected joy.

He embarked upon a journey of receptivity.  The goal was to see what was already around him in his nearby environment.  It was such a lovely idea.  Certainly, it sounds a bit more ambitious an undertaking than I'm ready for (I really like cheese) but it also helped me understand the breadth & depth of relinquishing control & opening.  

When I practice yoga I often try to still my competitive impulse towards "succeeding" in the practice.  In some way, I have categorized receptivity to certain areas of my life.  I definitely don't apply the concept to my eating habits, & perhaps I'm not all that consistent with it's application in my yoga practice.

It reminded me of reading another environmentalist several years ago.  He reccomended laying in your yard & just watching life unfold around you.  Suddenly, what can be conceived of as mundane can feel like a teeming wilderness.  Watching soil breathe, ants work, & the breeze's sculpting arm.  It reminds me that wildness isn't necessarily far off.  Wildness, wilderness, can be wherever I am.  It can be what I am.

I do pleasure seek.  I enjoy my practice & cultivate joy in my practice.  I love travelling & chose a photo to illustrate this blog from San Marcos, Guatemala, one of my favorite places on the planet.  Certainly, in time I would love to find more satisfaction & less seeking.  Perhaps the consistency & attention are moving me towards that place.  Maybe I can be receptive to being exactly where I'm supposed to be.

Lavender makes me so happy.  Over the years I've seen that lavender tends to be happiest in the company of other lavender plants.  Our six lavender bushes reach fragrant spikes skyward, spill over the bed edges, & overflow with butterflies & bees.  I try to spend equal time being in the garden as "working."  I'm beginning to see that it will take a lifetime to really know plants the way I would like to.  It will take a lifetime to know my own body that intimately-- safely navigating it into ever more intriguing yoga asana as well as travelling strongly & nimbly into these various stages of my own growth.

I'm working patience in all these areas of practice.  Listening deeply to clients to craft a trip for them that truly sates their spirits.  Piecing together larger portions of clients' lives as we create ceremony.  Learning to love the process.