Or at least the common understanding of that phrase.

I recently did something incredibly impractical.

It’s something that could take years to fix, will most certainly cost thousands of dollars, will create unforeseeable stress and frustrating amounts of work, has already caused physical pain and was against medical advice.

It’s wasn’t necessary. It isn’t easy.

There was really nothing practical about it.

And I couldn’t be happier.

What crazy, expensive, painful, ill-advised thing did I do?

I got braces.

Not a shred of evidence exists in favor of the idea that life is serious.
- Brendan Gill

Did you know I’ve agonized over this decision for over 10 years? The idea of spending thousands of dollars and seeing one orthodontist all in the name of vanity rubbed badly against my practical side.

Spending thousands of dollars and busting my ass to find cooperative orthodontists around the country to play my little game of Build A Traveling Medical File while we travel full-time rubbed against my orthodontist’s practical side, too.

But I insisted. I told him I’d take care of the hard part if he’d just play along.

I was freaking adamant against being practical until I got what I wanted.

Being Practical Is No Way To Live

Culturally, we make impractical decisions All.The.Time….decisions that are expensive, painful, and idealistic: like buying a home, having a child or falling love!

The big stuff is easy, though, right? It’s the smaller impractical choices we let get in our way.

Or at least I did.

You know what changed my mind?

Realizing just how many impractical choices have positively shaped my life:

• I made the impractical choice to be a mother at 17.
• I made the impulsive decision to become a massage therapist at 18.
• I made the expensive choice to own my own massage business at 20.
• We made the impractical decision to take Zeb out of school when he was 7.
• And then we had the crazy idea to sell all our belongings and travel full-time.

Did you know the definition of impractical included things like “idealistic,” “illogical,” “wild” or “improbable”?

Most of life falls into that category!

A bumblebee’s ability to fly? Certainly improbable.

The amazing capabilities of a human cell? Definitely wild!

Traveling, creating art, making love, music, dancing, climbing trees, poetry, laughter, romance…completely idealistic.

Chasing dreams, following your instincts, trust: Absolutely the most illogical things you can do in such a volatile time as ours.

And well…..there it is. My reason for being utterly impractical: All of life depends on it.

“Be daring, be different, be impractical, be anything that will assert integrity of purpose and imaginative vision against the play-it-safers, the creatures of the commonplace, the slaves of the ordinary.” – Cecil Beaton

Four Steps To Stop Being So Practical

I often get stopped by fear. And I often remind myself how to overcome it.

These are my four steps to making any wild, illogical, idealistic and absolutely life-changing decisions that I badly, desperately want (but am seriously paralyzed) to make.

They are the four things that get me from here to there, from fear to action, from stagnancy to growth.

It’s really rather simple. But, of course, incredibly challenging. Ready for it?

1. Trust Yourself. Like Benjamin Spock says, you know more than you think you do.
2. Know what you want and why and how. Because you’ll likely be doing some explaining and you’ll need a good plan.
3. Take a really deep breath. Repeat this step often.
4. Then focus only on taking the next step. Yup, just the next one.

Before long you might just find yourself living a wild, illogical, idealistic life of your own.

Join the Convo:

Why do you think we’ve become such a practical society? Or what’s been the best, most impractical choice you’ve ever made?

I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by. – Douglas Adams

We had every intention of getting back on the road by January 1st. The deadline seems ridiculously funny now that we’re two months behind schedule and covered in paint.

Despite knowing better, I still love setting unrealistic goals. Like T.S. Eliot says, “Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.”

I want to push myself. I want to do things others think aren’t possible.

As a family, as a couple and as three individuals, we set some pretty grandiose goals. The three of us, individually and together, work our asses off to build businesses, to travel or work on our own terms, to pwn noobs. We know what we want (and sometimes we don’t) and we go after it.

But if there’s one thing the last five months have taught me, it’s this:

Establishing goals is all right if you don’t let them deprive you of interesting detours. – Doug Larson

Life offers many interesting detours. And I want to take them.

Because although I love grandiose goals, there are no promises. It’s not about what we might experience someday. It’s about what we’re experiencing now.

Even covered in paint today, 8 weeks behind our goals and achy from the awkward positions one must put themselves in to paint around an RV slideout…we can still take time to dance to The Beach Boys and Steve Miller Band, to chat with friends, have lunch with family and attack each other with paint.

Because this is it. Despite all our goals, I know we already have what we want at our fingertips. Or all over our fingertips, as the case may be.

I’m nearing the end of my last month on the Visionary Mom Team. I have only a few weeks left to go before I’ll have to say goodbye to Lisa and the 9 other women who have supported and encouraged me since August. I underestimated what a gentle but pivotal role the team would played in my life. I shouldn’t have.

You should never underestimate the power of a collective female energy.

The very foundation of nearly a dozen mamas on one cooperative journey is rooted in creation. But it also resonates a strength, a nurturing and a no bullshit attitude that is the unmistakable art of such empowered women.

It also brings balance to the experience. Each one of us had a slightly different story to tell, a slightly different path to take, a slightly different view of the world. And we could offer it all without fear or judgment. One mama could see things another couldn’t. Another could offer something no one else had. We had humor and caution, drive and gentleness and eleven lifetimes of experience and resources to feed each others’ dreams.

It could not have come at a better time for me. In a summer filled with inspiration, but complete and paralyzing unassuredness, the Visionary Mom Team stepped in and saved my ass.

Have I mentioned that I was working on my photography shop for four months prior to joining? And that I managed to accomplish my goal in just three weeks on the team?

How about that I did more for Sustainable Baby Steps in 7 weeks on the team than I did in the 13 previous months that I had been working on the site?!

On top of lighting a fire under my ass the team has helped me to:

• Identify and overcome numerous creative roadblocks
• Acknowledge my personal groove
• Figure out and execute a plan
• Stay accountable along the way

I’ve learned that going it alone is just short of crazy.

And a little bit lonely.

We are communal, social beings after all. It only makes sense to me now that I would work better professionally in a communally creative setting, as well. We’re not meant to always go it alone. I’m understanding that better now.

To say the team has been pivotal is an understatement. Having 10 other women as invested in my outcome as I am in theirs is flat out transformational, not just in my productivity but as it translates into other areas of my life as well (because there is no “work life” and “personal life” around here – it’s all part of one big, beautiful pot).

That’s why I’m joining another team.

Yes, it’s just that good and no, I am not ready to let it go.

I’ve talked my good friend, Heather, into hopping on board and I’m pretty sure another sweet mama, Alicia, is going to join us.

But I want to make sure we have a full team, so I can be sure to start again in December. Sooo…..

Want to join us on the next Visionary Mom Team?

I know there are plenty of you out there cooking up some Big Ideas. I know there are plenty of you feeling stuck, too. I know that we could all use a little (or a lot of) motivation to feed our dreams. And I now know the power of a collective determination.

We start December 1st and there are only a handful of spots available, so go here to check it out and sign up.

Will you join me?

UPDATE: I’ve just been informed two four more mamas have jumped on board! That means FIVE THREE more spaces. Are you in? Hurry!

Another Update: Yahoo!! The team is full! I’m SO excited! And to everyone who didn’t make this team, Lisa still has options, so don’t hesitate to shoot her a message!

Yesterday we were dealt a nasty blow to our dreams. The possibility of leaving Las Vegas by January has ended. The idea of two or three extra months here shouldn’t leave me in tears on the floor, but it did.

I don’t want to be here. I resist it with every fiber of my being. I make it clear to everyone I speak with that I’m only visiting. That this is not my home. I don’t feel good here, I don’t feel whole or fed or at peace here. I feel needy and desperate and lonely and empty. It took me 28 years to escape this the first time and seven months later I’m here again.

I don’t want to hear that there is a reason, that there is a message or a lesson in all this. I don’t want to hear that I need to let go, that I need to trust. I know it, but I resist it anyway.

Why? Because I’m afraid. I’m afraid of feeling trapped. I’m afraid of some giant cosmic hand telling me I’m “supposed to” be somewhere that makes me unhappy. I’m afraid of losing what I’ve found or finding that I didn’t deserve it in the first place.

In this past year I’ve wholeheartedly embraced a fear that has had me paralyzed for decades. I’ve lived in fear of Too Good Too Last, and I carefully kept my life and my joy at bay. I kept myself from loving or living unconditionally to protect myself from the pain that follows loss. Does that even make sense? I’ve felt that anything good will be taken from me, so I keep things two degrees off Good just to play it safe.

I thought through this amazing journey that I had conquered all of that. But as soon as Justin broke the news yesterday I felt that crushing fear, that desperate grasp for safety, those fortress walls springing back around me, my chest tightening and my joy slipping through my fingers. I heard that old familiar voice, “See? I told you it couldn’t last. Something was bound to come along and tear our dreams apart. This is it. It’s going to fall apart and you’re going to be trapped. You don’t deserve anything more.”

Ouch. I know it doesn’t even sound rational. It doesn’t feel rational either. It hurts. And it’s scary. It’s rubbing up against beliefs and thoughts I’m not ready to examine and it’s not accepting my attempt to put it off. It’s challenging me and it’s forcing me to stretch and grow. And all of that is good. I know it’s good. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.

I want to face this. I want to push through it. I want to be handed a challenge and fly over it. I want to feel energized and more determined by it. I want to keep smiling, keep holding onto my joy. I want to embrace my fear with compassion.

I want to say I’m not in tears, hiding my face in my pillow and guarding myself against anything that feels good. I want to say I’m not pushing away the love I’m handed, letting go of the dreams I have for fear of more pain. I want to say I’m not questioning my spirituality, questioning whether Gd really is the bully with the magnifying glass burning holes in my heart.

But I can’t say any of that right now. It wouldn’t be real, authentic.

In this moment, right now, I hurt. In this moment, I feel a suffocating fear. This moment is messy and ugly and demanding tears. This moment is not allowing me to move.

So I’m doing the only thing this moment is asking me to do: I’m sitting in it. I’m allowing myself to cry or feel afraid or guarded. I’m allowing myself to resist. I’m embracing the messy and the vulnerable and the whiney. I’m playing the victim, and the Blame Game, and the big baby. I’m wallowing and hurting and questioning. I’m distracting myself. I’m wavering between sobs and angry outbursts.

No, it doesn’t really make sense. No, the details aren’t really that big of a deal. But this is what Life has handed my heart: not another three months, but a giant serving of Here’s Your Opportunity with a side of It’s Time To Face This Already.

It’s never about the details. It’s never about what happened or what’s going to happen. It’s about the messages we have hidden in our hearts, the stories we listen to, how they affect us, what we feel and what’s happening inside of us. It’s the bigger picture, when we can see it…and when we can’t.

I can’t see it. I can say it, but I’m too deep in it to really know it to be true. I can look at the words and reread them and still I hear that cynical, biting voice in my mind. So I’m holding onto the only two things I really do know to be true: I can be nothing but authentic. And life will ebb and flow, all things will pass.

This is me, authentic. Waiting for the fear to pass, for my ability to let it go.

There comes a point where the romance wears off and you realize just how much hard work is involved in sustainable farming. I think I reached that point on Thursday.

Don’t get me wrong: there is a part of us that does not want to leave at the end of this week. Good food, good people and a culture we enjoy. Not to mention fulfilling work in something we believe in. And there is so much more to know about sustainable housing, animal husbandry, beekeeping, rotational grazing, preserving…we could be here for years and still learning.

But we didn’t sign up for this internship to learn how to farm. We signed up to find out if this is something we want to do in the future…if we’re cut out for it or if doing it ourselves would totally kick our ass.

We feel strongly about sustainable, small-scale farming. We feel strongly about raw milk and organic vegetables and grass-fed meat and free-range eggs and seasonal fruits all being a part of local and sustainable eating. We feel strongly about dislodging ourselves from the mainstream culture of disconnection from our food and its source, as well as our over-consumption of energy, water and other resources, and the waste inherent in such choices.

I have, on occasion, spoken to older generations and expressed our interest in living this way. It comes from a desire to live simply and feel more connected to our food, our land and each other. So many of us are disillusioned with The American Dream of bigger houses and smaller lots and manicured lawns and 60 hour work weeks for someone else’s benefit all while drifting further and further from each other and ourselves. And we look into the past with a sense of wonder and awe and we feel it. We feel in our bones that this disconnection we’ve bought into cannot be better than the alternative of a life lived slowly. But almost every time I’ve had these conversations I’ve been met with dubious smirks. They remember those days of hard work with little of the same romance, they would never trade the convenience and ease of modern life for home canning and handmade clothing again and they chock our exuberance up to youthful ignorance.

Were we ignorant?

For the past several years we have essentially dreamed of what we are now experiencing. And let me tell you: it’s not as romantic as it sounded.

It’s not as if we didn’t know it would be hard work. But we didn’t really know in the way you know when you’re shoveling hundreds of pounds of wet debris out of an irrigation ditch. We didn’t really understand just how much we’ve become complacent to endless and abundant options until you remember the only tomatoes you have are the ones canned last summer. We didn’t really appreciate the cost of food until we experienced the labor inherent in milking a pint of milk from a prancing goat who kicks it over just as you finish.

We “knew” these things, but you just can’t get it until it’s in your hands.

In the few weeks we’ve been here we’ve seen little of each other and can already feel the strain. We’re tired and busy and working on different things. It’s tough to not see much of the people with whom you so enjoy spending time…even when you’re both doing something you love.

So, could we do this? If this was “ours” would it be different? Could we wake up, day after day, with no break and an endless number of chores and projects and not go insane, get antsy or feel exhausted with life itself? Could we prevent the stress from getting to us as a couple and still find time for each other and our child?

If we only had own hands and a piece of land to rely on, could we sustain ourselves? Or are we doomed to rely on outsources and inputs and a system we neither trust, nor wish to support?

I don’t yet know.

Overall, I’m glad we came, even if it asked us more questions than it answered. It’s given us an appreciation we only thought we had.

One thing I know for sure: We could never do it alone. Part of what has made this difficult experience fun is the “community” built with the many friends and volunteers that have come and gone. Milking a cow in the cold is drudgery. Milking a cow, cooking meals, washing dishes, running from rouge turkeys, thinning carrots and taking funny Bench Monday photos while talking and laughing is something we have loved.

I’m interested in your thoughts on this…

We’re moving!!

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Or rather, I should say, we’ll be on the move.

Meet Benny the Brave:

Here’s the deal: Justin is facing layoff within a month or so. He feels fairly certain he can scrounge up a few more months of work. But construction is grimmer than Vegas has ever seen. And he knows he’ll need to find work elsewhere. And with Benny, we can follow the work while we scope out new places to live.

Apparently, he’s been thinking about and researching going on the road for awhile. He approached me with the idea while at GVC and totally freaked me out. (I think Jeff Sabo’s talk at Good Vibrations on pursuing our own Passions pushed him over the edge.) But after thinking about it and talking it over with Zeb, we all started to feel really good about the idea. As soon as we made the decision together, things clicked into place and we found Benny immediately (although we took several more days to research and compare before coming back to him).
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Here are his specs:

• 1982 Winnebago Brave Series M-22RB – 22′
• Chevy 6.2 L DIESEL engine with only 67k miles
• Ugly as sin VERY retro
• But cheap as DIRT (thank you poor economy)

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Some things he needs:

• New air, oil and fuel filters
• New tires (they’re okay but we’re not taking chances)
• New blackwater tank
• New fuel cap (we’re using a sock right now!)
• A deep clean

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Some things he WANTS:

• Veggie oil conversion (#1 after small maintenance)
• Solar panels
• Complete indoor remodel: new flooring, paint, storage, cushion, curtains (I’m totally inspired by Sara’s recent remodel)
• Some outdoor sparkle…maybe some stenciled “Unschool Bus” or buttloads of bumper stickers

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We’re going to make a conscious effort to sell our home. Home values are down 60% and I’m not yet familiar with short sales. So, we could be looking at a foreclosure when the work stops. Scary, yes. But I’m trusting everything to work out for the best.

We’ll sell everything that we don’t absolutely love, store what we don’t absolutely need and tow the truck (with Justin’s tools) behind the RV. We’re also trying to create a way to accomodate as many of Zeb’s LEGOs as possible. (Eep!)

We’re thinking six more months until we’re on the road. Talk about revamping our Five Year Plan! Anyone interested in buying an urban homestead in the making?

ETA: More photos here.

the dance is missing from this town
its sad embrace just pulls me down

impatiently i wait to hear the chime
a chirping message telling me its time
while colored dreams and mighty plans sustain
pushing paths against the weathered grain
i watch the feet that carry me along
humming through the notes within the song
and watering the seeds that have been sown
i miss the things i’ve never really known

Copyright TheOrganicSister 2/27/09

*i wrote this a couple weeks ago but only just got around to posting it.

First of all, we finished the fence. Justin was not happy with the way it turned out (his own worst critic + scrap material = something he’s not proud to say he did) so in order to “camoflauge” the mix and match pieces we painted/stained it. See?

I’ve also finished the irrigation and started “construction” of the pathways. Irrigation is a must when you only get 4 inches of rainfall a year. Not the most sustainable but the best we can do out here. The rocks we’re using are all the rocks dug up in our yard when planting or fixing busted lines, etc. Each “coil” of irrigation line will contain our little permaculture gardens or “zones” – watermelons, squash, corn, beans, anything that does not need a raised bed.

Can you see what I see? The beauty of what is to come!? No? Here let me help you

Aren’t she beautimous? The trellis in the back will hold heavier climbers, like melon or squash or whatever I can get up there. Along the front is planted our rose bushes and will also contain wildflowers, native flowers, honeysuckle and other pretties to attract the bees and hummingbirds and butterflies. Around the tree we placed blocks to protect the trunk from the sheet mulching. I will most likely plant herbs or maybe strawberries inside the blocks.

Moving up along our driveway you can see the next section with all the paths and “Zones” for veggies and herbs and such.

Here’s what I see:

That black box back there is the solar oven Justin has been working on (only needs its reflectors!). You can see where my corn will likely go this year on the right and one of the pomegranate trees off in the corner.

Here’s the view from the front door out to the street and a better view of the paths we’re making out of our rock collections.

A better view…

The trellis to the left will hold lighter climbers (it’s a lighter-weight trellis; the other side is a heavy-weight) such as flowers and perhaps cukes or something. I want to try to keep the walkway up the driveway and the area along the sidewalk mostly floral, so it looks and smells nice and no one is tempted to sample without asking first.

Here’s the view standing by the gate to the backyard. (I’m only showing you the unadorned ones so you can see how I did the irrigation lines.)

Here it is beautified.

Here are the pomegranates trees. You can see in this photo how difficult of a time I had getting that damn tubing uncoiled. Okay, maybe you can’t but I know.

And again cuz I can’t resist.

That’s a container in blue because it looks like it will be an empty spot without enough water. I’m thinking maybe my moth beans will be good in containers since I most assuredly forget to water containers.

Here are the fruit trees in the backyard after being wrapped in irrigation tubing.

Bear with me.

I’m hoping to add strawberries and/or asparagus under the canopies to act as a living mulch. That brown things in the back will be new raised beds, probably for winter depending on the shade from the trees over the next few years.

And then my beauty. My ginormous raised beds, primarily for tomatoes. Ain’t she a beaut? It’s located just to the right of my fruit trees in the above picture. I’d like to say the E shape holds some sort of symbolism being the first letter of my deceased father’s last name, but it’s not. It was really just the most space efficient design I could come up with for that area and it’s irrigation heads. (Sorry Dad.) The containers will be moved when I find a space for them.

Jimeny Christmas, it certainly is a beautiful picture I see everytime I look outside. If you’ve taken yard photos or photos of plans-to-be, I want to see!

During our time off last month, we had a chance to focus and discuss our goals for the future. Namely, what we want and where we want to be in five years. I can’t say I’ve ever known where I wanted to be in five years before now. Now we have a plan. A well-organized and thought-out plan. A plan that gets us so excited it’s difficult not to jump the gun and skip the needed steps to implement this plan well. What’s the plan?

The plan is to get the hell out of Dodge. Just not quickly. Quickly would require debt, a reliance on others (other economies, other banks, other bosses, etc) and a huge variation from the purpose of the plan. The purpose of the plan is to opt out of the System. To be debt-free and self-sufficient. To live off-grid (except for satelite internet ). An Earthship is a good possibility and something Justin wants to learn, but there are other possibilities, too.

We want a self-sustaining home -  one with solar and wind energy, water catchments and possibly, a well – outsie a sustainable community. We want a small organic “hobby farm” – something that will supply us with nearly all we need for sustenance , as well as a small income, possibly from an orchard. Justin wants a woodworking shop to build furniture or whatever else his heart desires. I want a wood-burning stove and a real fireplace and lots of nature surrounding me. Zeb wants goats and chickens and ducks, and a cow. He also wants a treehouse and lots of wild open spaces to run.

Of course, to do all this debt-free means saving up a truckload of money. We’re starting with a goal of $100,000. Enough to buy several acres and begin building our home. We have some ideas of how to save this. Our small Christmas last year was a good start. Selling what was once my business vehicle will save us thousands a year (it’s due to be pain off in less than two years anyway). Add to that fewer vacations, saving tax returns, reduced spending, skipping out on things, any overtime he might get…it’ll be tough – real tough – but manageable and the end result will be worth it. I’m also going to look into making money with my photography, my blog and maybe with the garden eventually.

Their are also a few things that we plan to do before our homesteading venture makes them more difficult to accomplish: medical and dental work before the insurance is lost is crucial, among other more personal matters.

So, there you have it. The synopsis to our Five-Year Plan. I love it! I love the action and the mental organizing. I love SMART Goals (Specific, Measurable, Attainable, Relevant, Timebound). It’s a rough idea and one I’m sure we’ll be adding to and/or amending as time goes on and as we learn more and get closer to our goal. I’m sure I’ll also keep ya’ll updated on specific changes via a blog post too.

And as always, I’m open to ideas – things we should check out (locations, technologies, techniques, etc), things we should consider, or just your own thoughts and ideas or your own goals! And we’re hoping to have some great, like-minded neighbors, if you care to join us.

Here’s the plan:

We currently live in a suburb of Las Vegas, a city who’s real estate bubble burst leaving us with an upside-down home. Because Justin’s field of expertise (commercial construction; mostly casinos) relies heavily on a booming economy, we know continuing to live in Las Vegas long-term will bring challenges in the coming years.  Our current guesstimations to do this debt-free put us at a financial goal of $100,000 at the end of five years, an average of $20,000 a year. This will be the biggest challenge.

We’re applying SMART techniques to this goal; Specific, Measurable, Attainable, Relevant, Time-Bound. For this reason we’ve begun an outline for accomplishment that we will update along the way.

2009, Year 1:

• Research local, stable banks and open a new savings account
• Sell our second vehicle to decrease debt and increase savings: Detail truck, affix sign on window, list online and in paper, pray for a miracle
• Finish yard and garden conversion and start producing own food: Erect raised beds, plant fruit trees, finish irrigation, sow all seeds, plant more perennial nitrogen-fixers and insectaries
• Research and implement homesteading skills from a homemaker’s perspective: baking, preserving, sewing, knitting, etc
• Research and if possible, implement a graywater system
• Research rabbits and egg-laying chickens and their shelters
• Find more ways to save (and/or earn) money

2010, Year 2:

• Continue expanding edible landscaping in front and backyard
• Adopt animals for eggs or manure
• Research desired land features- Elevation desired, Average Precipitation needed, Local and State laws, Taxes, Building Codes, Climate Change Models, Localized Communities and their sustainability and resources
• Research areas that fits our desired land features
• Continue finding ways to add to decrease spending and increase savings

2011, Year 3:

• Continue expanding edible landscaping in front and backyard
• Begin heavy research on sustainable homebuilding, temporary living structures, barn, workshops,  solar and wind technologies, composting toilets, etc
• Continue finding ways to decrease spending and increase savings

2012, Year 4:

• Continue Victory Gardening and Urban Homesteading from previous years
• Continue research on sustainable homebuilding and communities, etc from previous year
• Consider programs such as WWOOF, EarthShip internships and Permaculture certification
• Purchase land that fits our requirements
• List Las Vegas home for sale
• Continue finding ways to decrease spending and add to savings

2013, Year 5:

• Continue Victory Gardening and Urban Homesteading from previous years
• Sell home and find interim living arrangements if needed

PLAN B:

Because the job market in Vegas has taken a sudden turn for the worst and Justin may be unemployed at any moment, we’ve established our Plan B. It’s a bit more fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants since we don’t know what to expect in the coming months or years. We’ll make changes as necessary.

• Continue doing everything we can to save and earn money
• Continue growing everything we can
• Only invest money or time into the house or garden that will pay for itself
• Continue doing all we can to stay in our home, while still saving money
• If moving out of our home is necessary, we’ll stay in Las Vegas and continue to work towards moving debt-free

This is how I’m feeling these days. As if I’m walking around in a life not my own. I’ve hijacked the bundled cells of another soul and am sitting rather uncomfortably in the tight squeeze. How did I end up in these cramped quarters? IwantoutIwantoutIwantout!

I feel this deep propensity toward a life I seem unable to create. A life of simplicity, of beauty, of nature and art and music and connection and and and. But it’s more than arduous to create this picture perfect life of beauty while surrounded by dreary, dry, dead domain. This city! My hometown is sucking the life out of me. Its lack of options too often locks us inside and creates a dependency on an electronic lifestyle – a version of living vicariously through another person’s blog. The television, the video games, the computers…they all feel like static in my hair; annoying, frustrating and nearly impossible to figure out how to manage.

I want less stuff. More movement and flow. Less noise. More harmonious dancing with the Earth. More connection to Spirit with less distraction. More G-d and less Ego.

We text, we email, we instant message, we blog, we chat on our cells while we run our errands. But we rarely sit down and really link hearts with someone else. The pool of connection has gotten broad and vast, but shallow. I want the Laura Ingalls Wilder version of life. Simple, peaceful and (can I wear this word out?) connected. Instead I feel like the diver who’s air line has been severed.

:sigh:

Justin and I recently had an opportunity to escape. An offer to live in the middle of nowhere and take care of a ranch. The entire scenario was made for us. Z even fell in love with the idea. But we are strapped down to a home we can’t sell in a city we dislike and can’t escape just yet. We allowed our dream life to pass us by. It wasn’t all sad. I simply knew it wasn’t time yet. I want so deeply to be where I’m meant to end up but I know I’m not meant to end up there yet.

Z and I tried something new today. We “powered down” as we call it, for most of the day. We agreed on 2pm as the first hour we could turn on anything electronic and instead spent the morning reading, creating with clay and playing games. And (thankfully) we both really enjoyed it. We connected. Not just with each other, but with our home and ourselves. Z had about an hour of laying on the cushions on the floor, deep in private thought. It was a step in the right direction, one that we will attempt to implement regularly.

Another moment of connection happened yesterday at our unschoolers park day. The babes and kids and tweens running in the grass and climbing trees; their voices hollering across the breeze. The barefoot moms crocheting, sharing and laughing in the shade with one eye on the tribe around us. I just sat back and reveled in the perfection. We have a lot of those moments together, us Life Learners. We’ve all toyed with the idea of a commune, a way to surround ourselves with as many moments of beauty as possible with as few distractions as necessary. But weather is something we can’t seem to agree on so a location has yet to be ascertained. :]

Oooh, I wish to greedily run in the right direction, leaving the path behind and just get to where I’m meant to end up. But you can’t skip the road needed to travel to a destination. Half the “getting there” relies on what you learn along the way. So I’m trudging the route and trying to smell as many flowers along the side as possible. And planting a few myself for those in step behind me.

I’m getting there. I’m still practicing the accepting of that, but at least I’m not jumping too far ahead of myself.