Possible New Nest Dashed to Ground

Today I went to check out a possible place for us to live. It is a property near a river, just over the Cheatham County line, 65 acres with several cabins and various residents living in those cabins as well as great lodge retreat and rental space. A community crone used to have pagan events out there, and it survives in stories even though no one really seems to know what is going on there now.

Someone found them on FB for me, and from the limited info they had posted I found the not-fully-constructed website (no wonder it didn't google well!) and phone number. I have been trying to contact them for about three months. Email was ignored, phone message was ignored, and finally I made another attempt a few days ago, left a "I want to know more about you" voicemail and at last got a call back. I made an appointment for 1:00, googled the directions along with asking on the phone for advice for any rural quirks, and felt excited. If it didn't lead to a place to live, I hoped it would at least provide the lead that would take us where we need to go.

I drove 45 minutes out there, found the place where the private gravel road ended and parked, hoping I had guessed right since there were no actual address numbers made available to me. After being creatively sniffed by the thumping dogs and taken under wing by a resident, we found the woman I was supposed to meet with. She was uncomfortable with me in a drifty kind of way, unsure what to say, and the absolute lack of rapport or chemistry was remarkable. I asked my questions, she gave me answers in a vague sounding voice and gave me a short tour of the great lodge. In under 20 minutes, I was back in my truck. No, they don't have any cabins available or coming available. The one that would be most likely to turn over comes furnished and rents for about double what we can afford (though I only mentioned not needing furniture, omitting the money bit).

It was a bust. A wholesale bust. I even asked if she knew of any other rental properties around, and she said no. On my way back to the highway I detoured to see if I could find some local papers with local classifieds. I took note of a few names I could google and picked up a free paper out of a stand. The free paper turned out to be worse than useless, and the papers I googled are owned by Gannett who also does the Tennessean. Their websites have now made it impossible to find the classified ads that are ACTUALLY IN THE PAPER, and instead link to national websites full of ads and NOTHING REMOTELY USEFUL. Frustrating!

I had such hopes that a situation with so much potential would either work or lead to something that does. I went ready to impress with my ability to help with the retreat center business and be an asset on property, even as I deliberately let others set the tone enough to keep from coming across too strong or trying too hard. In short, I pulled out all my skills, dressed ambiguously enough to pass as more professional or relaxed depending on expectation, and went in expecting good things. And got bupkiss.

I took the more scenic route home and chose not to stop and do errands along the way. It is time for a new plan on how to find the New Nest.

Drumming and Dancing is Good for the Soul

My partner and I just got back from our mini-honeymoon at ElfFest at Lothlorien. We have gone for the last several years, but this time we opted to splurge a little and spend an extra day, since it was officially coming out of the wedding money and it seemed appropriate.

ElfFest is a pagan festival on private land, which means a whole host of wonderful things, but for us especially, it means that it is naked-friendly. When we get there, we are usually still wearing mundane world clothing while we park in the unloading zone and scout a tent location, then schlep all our stuff over and stash the vehicle out of the way. Shortly after that, more colorful fest gear appears. We seem to just get more and more free and comfortable and naked as the weekend wears on. By the last day, right before pack up, we are lounging about with no self-consciousness whatsoever, maybe wearing something colorful/pretty/unique/bling-y, or maybe not. And maybe we get up from our lounging and change into something even more bling-y that we haven't had a chance to wear yet. Or maybe we just eat the tasty food our neighbors shared and grin at each others' appetites.

This year we purposefully found a location that was mostly private (it was a crowded festival with record attendance this year, so nothing was completely private) and hung a curtain, etc for a little more visual privacy, for obvious reasons. My partner spent untold hours wandering naked in the creek, we both did a good bit of visiting with friends old and new, and of course, we spent as much time as possible at the drumming and dancing around the fire. At ElfFest, the drumming around the fire runs from dusk til dawn. It is the most wonderful thing to go to sleep to, but it is even better to be there at the fire for as long as possible, dancing in the sand, cheering for the blue flames shooting out of the 6-foot log chimneys, and gasping at the performers on the hill who twirl and dance with flaming, well, anything. Fire poi, flaming swords, fire whips, fire staff, fire fans, and even a fire umbrella (that was a little odd). 

My partner and I both danced and drummed until we were exhausted, slept a little, ate a lot, and then went back to do it again. It was fabulous. And of course, I made all kinds of mental notes about what I like that they do, and how to take it as a model for a pagan community property here. Overall, a great weekend/honeymooners trip.

Endless Hallways of Open Doors

Well, turning off my brain seems to have helped my panic levels about bread winning and my obsessiveness about becoming 5 year stable. With a little distance from the emotional turbulence, I have been able to stop and talk with God'dess about the whole thing. I asked for clarity about what comes next, and was shown an image of all the possibilities that are standing wide open right now, like so many open doors. 

It is true, I have a lot of different leads for how to accomplish different goals in front of me, like strings that run into the future, and if I follow the right bit of yarn at the right time, it will take me to what I am manifesting. The problem is knowing how to play them in harmony, like a concerto, instead of yanking at them all at the wrong time, like a cat walking on a piano. 

I asked God'dess again what to do, and was shown 3 particular leads: one to a possibility of land, one to a possibility of a co-creator of community, and one interpersonal connection that shows promise. Following up on those leads will be on my priority list for this week. In the meantime, I will brainstorm on how to expand the business I am already trying to grow (my energy healing practice), instead of scrapping it for a new and more involved dream. 
  

Friends With the Land

I do not believe in the ownership of land, and yet I desperately wish to own some. On the one hand, I do not believe land CAN be owned, or really even ever SHOULD be owned. I much prefer what I understand to be a more indigenous idea of living in relationship with the land. 

That said, I also live in this world, this reality, and this socio-economic system, which decrees that I have ownership of these things and you have ownership of those things, and we are all allowed to do with those things exactly what we please (within the letter of the law, or at least as long as we don't get caught). For that reason, the only way I can come to be in true relationship with land is to legally own some. Otherwise, I can never know when it might be sold, developed, logged, drained, flooded, appropriated, hunted, mined, etc. Without legal ownership, I cannot protect the land that I love or have much, if any,  influence over how it is treated in the hands of humans. 

I know, I could choose to be in relationship with the entire earth, with all the land and sea on the planet, but honestly, my heart is not that big. My head, yes. I can think my love and send the energy of my love for the planet easily. But in my heart, when I think of the planet, I think of the green of grass in my own yard, the light coming through the leaves at the park I grew up near, the dirt I planted beans in once, and then a picture of earth from space or in an atlas with all the different countries picked out in yellows and oranges with blue oceans. In other words, I take what I have known with my own senses, and then use my mind to stretch it out to cover the world. 

And since my heart is so specific to what I can see and touch and sense on an energetic level, I yearn for a parcel of land that I can see and touch and sense energetically and fall in love with, a bit of the earth to invest with my love and plant bulbs for spring on and converse with trees and honey bees on, to run around naked and make love on, and somehow I am fully dissatisfied with the corner lot grassy yard of my current home. I am so dissatisfied that I have been unwilling to bond with this partial acre because I have dreamed so intensely of leaving. 
 
I do not believe in owning the land, and yet paradoxically I yearn to call a property my own so that I can set it free from ownership and we can be friends.

A Family of Children and Trees

I went to hear Joy Harjo perform and read her poetry Friday night. My friend Thandiwe Shiprah has been dreaming of bringing her to Nashville for years, and finally managed to get the art grant money to get it done. I did have a moment of disorientation when I walked in and found out it wasn't free like a Facebook friend had said, but since I was already there in the beautiful new space of the W. O Smith Community Music School, I decided to spring for it. 

Some of the lines of her poetry struck me like blows to the chest or hammers suddenly released from their moorings to ping inside my skull. One line in particular that stuck with me talked about drops of blood falling to the earth and springing up into daughters, sons, and trees. As someone on the cusp of making babies and obsessed with getting to the woods, it really resonated with me. That is exactly how I feel about life. The trees are as close to me as children, and the longing I have for them in my life is very similar to the longing I have for kids. I have also seen my partner mourn a beloved shade tree that fell in a storm, and I understood completely. 

What I long for, really, is to be in full intimacy with the lives of my children and the land. I yearn to be in long term relationships with trees, to get to know kids and trees and earth as they grow ever closer to being their fullest selves, to protect the womb, the soil, from whence they come, and to nourish them with nutrients and love even as they enrich my life. 

It is the same hunger, the same bone-deep longing, but until I heard that line in that poem, I had not realized. I had not seen that my yearning for land and my yearning for children are at their heart the same yearning for family of my own.   

Delicate Possibilities and Connections

There is a woman who is a client and friend of a client and friend, who is now my own client and friend thanks to the referral of our mutual friend, and in meeting with her a few months ago, she mentioned that she knew several older women interested in establishing community on land in order to be more sustainable and to make provision for their old(er) age. I was hard pressed to not be too excited and asked her to pass along my definite interest to these women. 

Many emails, two cases of food poisoning and some brain-eating life later, I got to go out to meet one of these older women, see her current property and talk life goals, sustainability, and community. Really, we spent a very enjoyable two hours agreeing with each other in a "yes, exactly, and I also think this," kind of way. She took me on a golf-cart tour of her garden and around the property, blithely reassuring me that we would be fine even as she told me of how she had wrecked that very same golf cart on this very same steep graveled hill and I hung on tightly and tried not to crush the large dog who was equally crushing my feet. 

A few years ago she had a nearby property with a lot of water and specifically running water, and now she really regrets letting it go and hates where she is now. She knows she could put in some solar and a well and work on going off grid, but she misses her old place more than she is motivated to make her new place work. In thinking about properties, I told her I thought an old summer camp would really make the best community starter property, especially since it would probably already have some kind of sleeping shelters and some kind of great hall/lodge on property. 

Her eyes lit up and she told me about just such a place just a few miles down the road that has all kinds of running water like she would like to live near, and if she were more recovered from the food poisoning she would run me down there, but I can find it on my own, I won't get lost, will I, and then I can just take a left onto this road and that will run me back into town. I left to the cacophony of very large wind chimes and headed down the road to the substantial gated bridge she had described. I stood there and watched a yellow butterfly flit by me, and I stared at the gravel road that went up and around a bend in front of me, beyond the gate and over the bridge. 

I took pictures. I sent one to my friend who is a psychic and also very committed to building sacred community to ask if this could be it. I have now looked up who owns it, how big it is, and even scoured the satellite photos online. I feel...cautiously optimistic. This could be really good. 

Yearning for a Place in the Woods

I have a deep yearning in my soul for a place in the woods. A place we can raise our children, a place we can run around naked to our hearts' content, a property large enough to share with other like-minded folk.

I have had this dream for years now. It is not a particularly unique dream, as it goes, especially not among pagans. I think so many of us long for a wild community gathering space, and many of us have ventured out and created such spaces. Of course, being pagans, every pagan property has its own energy, intentions, and structures. 

On most of these properties that I have been privileged to visit, I feel fed. I, too, long for an Excremeditation Chamber like at Lothlorien (the cat's pajamas of composting privies), or a bath house like Short Mountain, or the magically tricksy wilds of Cerren Ered that shrink and enlarge and can snare even the most experienced resident into lostness. I see the children being creative and radiant and doing their own thang, and my heart leaps with joy for them. I see the more fey residents of these properties, the ones who fit there perfectly but do not fit so well in "mundane" society, wandering about very naked, adorned with wild things, avoiding most of the festival crowds. 

I dream of this with an intensity that is almost physically painful. I dream of living in a configuration that causes me to get up in the morning in my own space, step outside to the natural world, and walk to my destinations in order to visit, to cook large meals, to garden, to meditate, and most everything else. I can see myself being much older but still spry from hoofing it up and down the side of the mountain. 

And at this time of the year especially, I long, I yearn, I pine like bad poetry for land I know I will live on for the rest of my life so that I can plant bulbs, a dozen or so each year, and watch as more and more of them come up in brilliant color every year, greeting me, greeting the sun, an affirmation of life, cycles, and commitment.

Heavy Substance Use Contributes to Failure to Thrive

(Apologies for the day-late post, I got back into town later than I had anticipated.)

I just got back from spending several days visiting a close friend and former housemate at the pagan community she has moved to, about 5 hours away. She first went up to those pagan lands on an art retreat last August, and one thing led to another and now she has moved there. There are several different properties owned by pagans in the area, several of them contiguous. She started out in a tiny room in one of the multi-purpose cabins on one property, but has now moved to a two-room cabin complete with bathroom and kitchen on a neighboring property with more of a community identity. 

I hadn't seen her new place yet and wanted to support her in getting settled, etc., so I headed up there post-equinox festivities. Her new community has been there for about 30 years, is owned by one man, has multiple residence buildings mostly built by the owner, and is about 5 acres. The owner's daughters were in town, so I spent some of my time hanging out in the social sphere with him, his daughters, and other friends and community members. 


At one point the conversation turned to "community meetings" and how terrible they are. The owner said that he recently found some old agendas for their business meetings, and they were all the same. The problems of communal space cleanliness/maintenance were generally at the top of the list and from his perspective he could never understand why everyone didn't hold to their agreements. 


I asked him if those agreements had been negotiated or dictated, and he said they had been negotiated, implying that everyone had ownership in their collective chosen strategies. That leads me to wonder where the problem actually lies. Were they really negotiated, or were others marginalized in the process of creating the agreements and he did not see or understand that? Did they try changing their strategies much over the years, or did they keep getting what they were getting because they kept doing what they were doing? 


Or, as I rather suspect, did substance use get in the way of personal responsibility and consistency? No one seems to be into anything "hard" that I could tell (not that I have any expert experience at that), but there is enough heavy drinking, etc. that I suspect that regular intoxication may be a culprit. 


And in thinking about how such substance use negatively impacts community projects and community life, I wonder about the poverty level on property and how the substance use affects it. It would be very interesting to me to know what percentage of income gets spent on substance vices like alcohol, cigarettes, etc. For some, I would not be surprised to learn that half their meager income goes toward addictions or intoxication-based lifestyles. 


Of course, it is an impoverished area and the only jobs nearby are tourism-based, so a lot of what's available are service positions and minimum wage. That definitely contributes heavily to the poverty and scraping-by on property, but substances probably contribute heavily to why the community has experienced a sad failure-to-thrive. I heard a lot of frustration and anger behind the conversation we had about the mechanics of community contribution, and I really do think that stepping away from a substance-friendly culture might clear a lot of that up. 

Of course, that is also an unlikely course of action, since it is the owner who leads the way on the regular heavy intoxication.

Enthusiasm for a Rural Intentional Community

I went to a recent event of like-minded "let's make the world a better place through personal transformation and green activism" folks, many from a meetup.com group. It was hosted by a friend of mine and I went to support her and her work. The focus was mostly on envisioning this year and releasing anything that no longer serves us so that we are free to manifest what we want and need. There was a good turnout, maybe 20 people. The house felt quite full in a friendly way.

Over our potluck supper some of these like-minded folks began talking about how they wished there were an intentional community close by where they could live. As far as I could tell, these were people who are not very close to each other, maybe have met once or twice, but these half-dozen people were all expressing this same desire. There was even a bit of implied "where we could all live together." Several people volunteered information and enthusiasm about various green building techniques.

I am a little taken aback. My ultimate dream is to have pagan sacred space and community on rural land close to the city (and its resources and jobs). I have thought about and studied the logistics of how best to do this for several years now, and it is ultimately this dream that underpins the Time Bank and Incorporation initiatives of this year. If there is to be property, it needs to be bought and owned collectively. Unilateral action leads to authoritarianism, as I have personally witnessed repeatedly. In order for a group to invest in a property, there needs to be a legal structure under which to buy it (recognized 501(c)(3) religious organization, 501-something collective, land trust, etc.) and enough wealth, community spirit, and interest in the community to fund it.

I did join the conversation and offer many of my ideas. I got the impression that most of the people I was talking with are more at the "wouldn't it be awesome if" or "someone needs to" phase of dreaming, and that is fine. I am excited that there is that much latent interest at all. It shows me that there is a resource of interest there that can be tapped and developed.

Yes, I am mostly committed to working in the local pagan community first, and that is because it is my community. We are a (somewhat persecuted) minority together, and I would love to see us thriving. However, I now know that there is interest and enthusiasm among the "let's make the world a better place through personal transformation and green activism" crowd, and that adds depth and ambition to my own visions for how this could all happen.