A bit precarious, this one is.
At present life is a series of balances. Balances of times, of present and past and future. Balances of people, of friends and family and lover and house community and work. Balances of ideas, ideas that swell and diminish as particular events arise.
As difficult as people are sometimes (especially when I have responsibilities in one place but my heart and head are often in another), I think it is balancing time that gives me the most trouble. I have never been one to think much on the past. High school often seems a distant memory, and college is fresh but its happenings are not particularly insistent in my decision making. Instead, I am pulled taut between present and future.
At present I am in Lutheran Volunteer Corps, biking every day, working with wonderful community members on biking and alternative transportation and safety and such. I live in a house on Elliot Avenue with five wonderful women, sometimes harmoniously and other times more tumultuously than some (myself included) would like. I volunteer at the Guthrie, go to yoga at the YWCA, try to attend meditation, have joined the LVC Dungeons and Dragons campaign.
But the future taunts me. A future of urban homesteading, of chickens in the backyard, still in South Minneapolis most likely. A future working more intentionally with food and sustainability and agriculture, making connections between ideas and people. Becoming even more of a locavore. Nestling myself into a network I have already grown to love, to create a home, not to settle, but to put down roots that I can return to as I continue adventuring every so often.
One of (and, in fact, the guiding one) my 2010 Practice to Enact was to be present. But it is difficult, sometimes, for while the future is unknown, from here it seems bounteous with enriching people and places and practices. There is time enough, I think. I will be here.
As difficult as people are sometimes (especially when I have responsibilities in one place but my heart and head are often in another), I think it is balancing time that gives me the most trouble. I have never been one to think much on the past. High school often seems a distant memory, and college is fresh but its happenings are not particularly insistent in my decision making. Instead, I am pulled taut between present and future.
At present I am in Lutheran Volunteer Corps, biking every day, working with wonderful community members on biking and alternative transportation and safety and such. I live in a house on Elliot Avenue with five wonderful women, sometimes harmoniously and other times more tumultuously than some (myself included) would like. I volunteer at the Guthrie, go to yoga at the YWCA, try to attend meditation, have joined the LVC Dungeons and Dragons campaign.
But the future taunts me. A future of urban homesteading, of chickens in the backyard, still in South Minneapolis most likely. A future working more intentionally with food and sustainability and agriculture, making connections between ideas and people. Becoming even more of a locavore. Nestling myself into a network I have already grown to love, to create a home, not to settle, but to put down roots that I can return to as I continue adventuring every so often.
One of (and, in fact, the guiding one) my 2010 Practice to Enact was to be present. But it is difficult, sometimes, for while the future is unknown, from here it seems bounteous with enriching people and places and practices. There is time enough, I think. I will be here.