Memphis Democrat Column Week of 1/12/09
Happy New Year to you all from Cob, back home at Dancing Rabbit after an intense couple weeks of holiday travels. As much as I enjoy gardening and living closer to nature out here on the prairie, I had never really considered what that meant for me personally. I've always lived near mid-sized cities (Rochester, NY or Cleveland, OH) and have always enjoyed it when business travel took me to a larger metropolis like New York, Boston, San Diego, Atlanta, or Toronto. I love the history of those places, the museums, the night-life, the abundance and variety of authentic ethnic food, and the myriad opportunities that such places contain. Of course I've always been glad to leave again and get back to my quieter home routine, but for some reason this past trip brought it all into stark relief.
Visits with friends and family were simply wonderful, and everyone certainly kept us well fed...maybe too well fed judging by the current tightness of my waistband...and I wouldn't give up the laughter and fellowship for anything. What really stood out for me was the larger environment where this all took place. Rochester is a fairly small city, with a county-wide population of under 1 million people, and our visits were focused on a couple suburban towns with populations under 100,000.
But my goodness, the noise! The never-ending busyness and traffic on the roads. The exhaust fumes, the crowding in the stores, the constant stimulus from TV monitors, store fronts, and shop signs. Fellow motorists so focused on their own busy overloaded schedules that they barely noticed you were there (which could partly explain the number of accidents and fender-benders we encountered along the way). And there were no pedestrians. Anywhere. Sure it's wintertime and cold, but not THAT cold. Instead of walking, we had to drive everywhere for everything...to friends, to family, to stores, even to the park for sledding.
Now that we're back at Dancing Rabbit, we realize that while we were back East we never stood outside to watch the moonrise or the sunset. We didn't look at the stars, or go for a walk in the woods listening for birdsong. We didn't live in real-time...getting up and going to bed with the sun. We didn't live in real-space, instead we remained in our artificial cocoon of home, car, and mall. We lived on fast-forward, rushing everywhere instead of savoring each moment. There were exceptions throughout our trip, but for the most part it was a carnival ride. I guess I can finally admit to myself that I'm really just a country boy at heart.
One final personal confession before moving on to larger community news. Ever since we moved to Dancing Rabbit, Meadow and I have felt some residual guilt for so drastically reducing the size of our house...particularly in how that impacts our three boys and their personal space. Yet mere minutes after returning home, Duncan announced "I really like our tiny house, because we're all together". Humbling indeed.
The rest of the village remains quiet, as many rabbits are still away on their various travels. I know I'm not the only one looking forward to Cynder's next slide show after her return from Panama. Meals continue to be intimate affairs, with everyone sitting around one extended table, a very different feel from summertime's overflow into the courtyard. It's been a joy to connect more deeply with folks while there are few distractions. Jan's Jazz Night last week was simply delightful, and the coming week's schedule holds plenty of room for spontenaity.
I'm not sure what the forecast bitter cold will do to Nathan's playtime, but most of us have participated in at least one of his after-school outdoor activities...whether it was a slippery game of broomball on the icy pond, a synchronized butt-bounce competition on the trampoline, or a simple game of sharks & minnows tag on the ultimate field. Perfect for kids just off the school bus and adults who have been on the computer too long!
Otherwise January seems to be a month set aside from our normal busyness, a welcome lull between the holidays and our annual planning retreat. It's even too early to begin perusing the seed catalogs. A time when no excuse is needed to curl up by the fire with a good book. I'm just finishing "Auriel Rising" by Elizabeth Redfern, an alchemist's view on political intrigue and murder in the court of King James of England, set in 1795. The story weaves through the resurgent conflict between protestants and Catholics, court intrigue, plots to free political prisoner Sir Walter Raleigh and overthrow King James in favor of his son Prince Henry, in coded messages couched in the language of alchemy and the understanding of physical sciences in the era following the death of Queen Elizabeth.
Meadow recommends "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle" by Barbara Kingsolver, which chronicles the author's journey through a year in which her family made every attempt to feed themselves animals and vegetables whose provenance they really know...and of how her family was changed by their first year of deliberately eating food produced locally. The author describes it as "a journey away from the industrial-food pipeline to a rural life in which we vowed to buy only food raised in our own neighborhood, grow it ourselves, or learn to live without it". Additional material about their ongoing experiment is available online at www.animalvegetablemiracle.org
What are YOU reading today? Please let us know...we have many combined fireside hours yet to fill.
Dancing Rabbit Ecovillage is a nonprofit and a residential community that demonstrates ecological sustainability in Rutledge, MO. Our tour schedule and Visitor Program will resume in the spring of 2009. Please call us at (660)883-5511 or visit dancingrabbit.org for more information.
Visits with friends and family were simply wonderful, and everyone certainly kept us well fed...maybe too well fed judging by the current tightness of my waistband...and I wouldn't give up the laughter and fellowship for anything. What really stood out for me was the larger environment where this all took place. Rochester is a fairly small city, with a county-wide population of under 1 million people, and our visits were focused on a couple suburban towns with populations under 100,000.
But my goodness, the noise! The never-ending busyness and traffic on the roads. The exhaust fumes, the crowding in the stores, the constant stimulus from TV monitors, store fronts, and shop signs. Fellow motorists so focused on their own busy overloaded schedules that they barely noticed you were there (which could partly explain the number of accidents and fender-benders we encountered along the way). And there were no pedestrians. Anywhere. Sure it's wintertime and cold, but not THAT cold. Instead of walking, we had to drive everywhere for everything...to friends, to family, to stores, even to the park for sledding.
Now that we're back at Dancing Rabbit, we realize that while we were back East we never stood outside to watch the moonrise or the sunset. We didn't look at the stars, or go for a walk in the woods listening for birdsong. We didn't live in real-time...getting up and going to bed with the sun. We didn't live in real-space, instead we remained in our artificial cocoon of home, car, and mall. We lived on fast-forward, rushing everywhere instead of savoring each moment. There were exceptions throughout our trip, but for the most part it was a carnival ride. I guess I can finally admit to myself that I'm really just a country boy at heart.
One final personal confession before moving on to larger community news. Ever since we moved to Dancing Rabbit, Meadow and I have felt some residual guilt for so drastically reducing the size of our house...particularly in how that impacts our three boys and their personal space. Yet mere minutes after returning home, Duncan announced "I really like our tiny house, because we're all together". Humbling indeed.
The rest of the village remains quiet, as many rabbits are still away on their various travels. I know I'm not the only one looking forward to Cynder's next slide show after her return from Panama. Meals continue to be intimate affairs, with everyone sitting around one extended table, a very different feel from summertime's overflow into the courtyard. It's been a joy to connect more deeply with folks while there are few distractions. Jan's Jazz Night last week was simply delightful, and the coming week's schedule holds plenty of room for spontenaity.
I'm not sure what the forecast bitter cold will do to Nathan's playtime, but most of us have participated in at least one of his after-school outdoor activities...whether it was a slippery game of broomball on the icy pond, a synchronized butt-bounce competition on the trampoline, or a simple game of sharks & minnows tag on the ultimate field. Perfect for kids just off the school bus and adults who have been on the computer too long!
Otherwise January seems to be a month set aside from our normal busyness, a welcome lull between the holidays and our annual planning retreat. It's even too early to begin perusing the seed catalogs. A time when no excuse is needed to curl up by the fire with a good book. I'm just finishing "Auriel Rising" by Elizabeth Redfern, an alchemist's view on political intrigue and murder in the court of King James of England, set in 1795. The story weaves through the resurgent conflict between protestants and Catholics, court intrigue, plots to free political prisoner Sir Walter Raleigh and overthrow King James in favor of his son Prince Henry, in coded messages couched in the language of alchemy and the understanding of physical sciences in the era following the death of Queen Elizabeth.
Meadow recommends "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle" by Barbara Kingsolver, which chronicles the author's journey through a year in which her family made every attempt to feed themselves animals and vegetables whose provenance they really know...and of how her family was changed by their first year of deliberately eating food produced locally. The author describes it as "a journey away from the industrial-food pipeline to a rural life in which we vowed to buy only food raised in our own neighborhood, grow it ourselves, or learn to live without it". Additional material about their ongoing experiment is available online at www.animalvegetablemiracle.org
What are YOU reading today? Please let us know...we have many combined fireside hours yet to fill.
Dancing Rabbit Ecovillage is a nonprofit and a residential community that demonstrates ecological sustainability in Rutledge, MO. Our tour schedule and Visitor Program will resume in the spring of 2009. Please call us at (660)883-5511 or visit dancingrabbit.org for more information.