truth ...(?)
I think I'm doing this because I can't find anything better to do, not because it's necessarily right.
Planting a garden. Trying to be a massage therapist as a livelihood. Having relationships. All of life.
I need to not be given responsibility over all of the bills at the house. If I do, I will abuse that power to kick one of my roommates out because his style of living doesn't fit the goal of creating a collective. I don't want to be put in that position, but it may yet happen.
I met some musicians on the commons Thursday while trying to meet up with Sarah Rose to play music, and so happened to have my mandolin. They invited me to join them and I played the best I can remember in a long, long time. So much fun--I haven't had fun playing with others in...so long I can't remember. Maybe Olympia. Ran into them again Friday and they helped move compost and mulch for the garden. Failed to really connect with them on a non-musical level, though, and now they're headed back to Lancaster, and I can't expect that to happen again anytime soon.
The compost happened because of Joe, who's involved in the Dacha project, and when he heard I've been waiting three weeks to get this done, immediately stepped in and offered his help. Stephanie was an invaluable third shovel during the morning shift. Just astounded that after so many false starts it suddenly works--I was starting to think that my belief in mutual aid was crazy.
Played at the market Saturday. Again, because it felt like I ought to, not because it was especially fun, though it was, overall.
Today, bicycle day, I raced in an Alley Kat at Cornell, and came in third with both derailleurs out of commission and a chain that kept falling off--won a bottle of champagne. Went looking for ramps with Greg, but found only unopened trillium and trout lily. Sleepy afternoon.
I'm excited about the garden, worried about my seedlings, but also my soul--the heart of my all, where action comes from--that I'm getting weak and just getting by. Perfection takes time, but who am I now?
Planting a garden. Trying to be a massage therapist as a livelihood. Having relationships. All of life.
I need to not be given responsibility over all of the bills at the house. If I do, I will abuse that power to kick one of my roommates out because his style of living doesn't fit the goal of creating a collective. I don't want to be put in that position, but it may yet happen.
I met some musicians on the commons Thursday while trying to meet up with Sarah Rose to play music, and so happened to have my mandolin. They invited me to join them and I played the best I can remember in a long, long time. So much fun--I haven't had fun playing with others in...so long I can't remember. Maybe Olympia. Ran into them again Friday and they helped move compost and mulch for the garden. Failed to really connect with them on a non-musical level, though, and now they're headed back to Lancaster, and I can't expect that to happen again anytime soon.
The compost happened because of Joe, who's involved in the Dacha project, and when he heard I've been waiting three weeks to get this done, immediately stepped in and offered his help. Stephanie was an invaluable third shovel during the morning shift. Just astounded that after so many false starts it suddenly works--I was starting to think that my belief in mutual aid was crazy.
Played at the market Saturday. Again, because it felt like I ought to, not because it was especially fun, though it was, overall.
Today, bicycle day, I raced in an Alley Kat at Cornell, and came in third with both derailleurs out of commission and a chain that kept falling off--won a bottle of champagne. Went looking for ramps with Greg, but found only unopened trillium and trout lily. Sleepy afternoon.
I'm excited about the garden, worried about my seedlings, but also my soul--the heart of my all, where action comes from--that I'm getting weak and just getting by. Perfection takes time, but who am I now?