And in each case, my answer can be summarized as "I don't know." Or perhaps, "I don't know, yet." Obviously, a lot is weighing right now on how the visit to Dancing Rabbit goes (just a month and a half away!). There's a lot I need to try to figure out during the three weeks that I'll be there.
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If I do join the village, that answers the first question without a problem. It has been very easy and nice to actually have something, anything, to say when that question comes up. But, honestly, I don't know what the future holds for me. Just not school. I don't think people understand just how desperately I want to get away from the school setting. I am thoroughly institutionalized (I could not succeed in school otherwise). The regimented pattern of "learning" that takes place has sapped me of any and all creativity and original thought. Such is the result of being singlemindedly focused on fulfilling the requirements other people have set for me (again, in order to earn praise). I have no idea what I want to do with the time after I am finished with school, and it is precisely because of all of the schooling I have been through already. The only thing I know to do, in whatever way this may manifest itself, is to unschool myself. Deinstitutionalize. Try to reenergize whatever the source is of my creativity. Not until I do that will I be able to even start to figure out the answers to the rest of those questions. I have no idea how I would support myself at Dancing Rabbit, or elsewhere. If I don't wind up at DR, I could probably find cheap rent with a group of people, get a temporary minimum wage job and dumpster for food (while I continue to unschool and begin to learn what I might actually have to offer this world). And if I do end up at DR, there's no way to even know what kind of work would be available to me until I get there.
I have always wondered what I could possibly be good for in the workforce, what skills I could possibly offer. I used to say teacher (because I "liked" being a student), or architect (liked playing with legos and drawing (but not with a ruler)), or priest (ha). But I don't know. Whatever skill I do end up pursuing the development of, I want it to be practical. I could see myself going to a trade school of some sort. Carpentry perhaps. My mom has mentioned some sort of ecologically conscious construction company in the area. Perhaps I could check them out.
Obviously, Dancing Rabbit has the most potential to pose an answer to the question of what my long-term plans are. Coming to live in such a place would be a dream come true right now, taking a big step for myself in the right direction, away from civilization (and the civis - that fundamental building block of civilzation, the city).
I was talking with my Aunt Annie a couple weeks ago, and during our discussion about these things, she made me aware of a couple things. One, that when people disapprove of the direction in which I am taking my life, they are doing so out of love because they are worried about me. Two, that it seems as though my attempt to walk away from civilization is also an attempt to walk away from all of the relationships I have had throughout my life, relationships with people who are thoroughly planted in civilization and are not going to walk away from it any time soon. To the second point, I responded that it is certainly not my intent to cut myself off from relationships. Relationships are everything to me. It's all the stuff that distracts us from relating to one another that I want to be rid of. I do recognize that many of my relationships have been strained by the fact that my ideology has changed a lot as I have been able to start to make my own way from the foundation of the ideology I was given from birth. There is a commonality that used to be there that is now absent, and that is certainly a problem to be worked out (or played out, as I like to think of it) - how to continue relating to people, how to connect with people, when the common ideology is no longer there. Thankfully, ideology does not mean everything, and as much as people don't show it in there actions, there is something deeper than ideology in the nature of the human person over which everyone can connect. Appropriately, there is no name to give to that something, for otherwise, it would become part of some ideology. So that gives me hope.
A third comment my Aunt Annie made was that when I started to talk about permaculture, my eyes lit up. She was very happy to see that I was still passionate (in a positive manner) about something, that I had something that gives me life and joy, even if it is only an idea at this stage. And I am very happy about that too. When I say that I want to live in a manner that is "more than sustainable," I am referring to permaculture because permaculture is a kind of horticultural design that is, one, permanent (hence the name "permanent agriculture"), and two, rebuilds biodiversity and replenishes the life of the soil. That is what I am most passionate about learning and implementing at a place like Dancing Rabbit. I don't know how much permacultural design is already going on there (how much I could learn from them), but if there is not a lot as of yet, I want to go out and do whatever I need to do to learn about it and bring it there (my skill!).
Another option that I have been beginning to entertain is to enroll in an eleven month intensive program in which I would learn complete self-sufficiency (within the context of a group, of course) in the wilderness. From my perspective, this would be the most forward thinking and long term planning option available, as it is a goal of mine, if I go to Dancing Rabbit, to help establish a primitivist subcommunity there (which would certainly cut down on a lot of the living expenses, reducing the need for "supporting myself"!). It's just a thought in the beginning stages at this point. But it is all very exciting!
I still have questions that I have yet to get any closer to answering, and that's okay. That's how I like it, actually. I'd be more concerned if I felt that I had found all the answers. I don't ever expect that to be the case. I'll try to tackle a couple more another day, and we'll go from there.
"One, that when people disapprove of the direction in which I am taking my life, they are doing so out of love because they are worried about me."
ReplyDeleteI experience it differently. When people disapprove of the direction in which I am taking my life, they are doing so out of fear and a sense of confusion over their own identity -- the extent to which they identify themselves with me, is the extent to which they are afraid for me. When my mother worries about me she worries because to lose me would be to lose a big part of herself. When she loves me, as she does tremendously, it is not out of fear or insecurity in the relationship with me. She then wishes for me to be happy and is fully supportive. These feelings are diametrically opposed -- love is letting go while worrying is clinging on desperately.
At any rate, when people are worried about me I do not experience it as love or support. I experience it as another person letting their own needs for security getting in my way, yet another person I have to reassure first, before I am able to get any kind of support for my own path. I am continually exasperated that people have not had their needs met enough to be able to meet my needs -- but I intend to break this cycle.
Wherever I end up, whatever I end up doing, I'm going to break this cycle.
I'd like to talk to you about the Teaching Drum sometime, remind me to do that. For a while it was my first option, but then I learned more and now I have some serious reservations about participating in that. I don't want to go into all of them here but we can talk about it online sometime.
- Devin
Devin offered a thoughtful perspective on the concerns of loved ones. I think you're both right. I do tend to interpret the arguments from loved ones as disrespectful of me or my ability to know what I need. I don't like to be put in the defensive position by my own family.
ReplyDeleteWhen I decided to give birth at home, I didn't tell my relatives, because I didn't want their concerns to sap my energy.
I agree with what both of you are saying, that love is found in the letting go and not the clinging to. My aunt's insight was helpful for me in my understanding of where people like my uncle are coming from. I am able to acknowledge that his intentions for me are good, even if they are misguided, and his efforts to convert me to his way are well-meaning, if misplaced. But yes, I certainly agree that it takes a lot of energy to defend myself against the opinions and beliefs of my family, but for now, I think that that is energy worth spending as it helps me to strengthen my understanding of my own convictions and serves to reach out with the potential of continuing in a meaningful relationship with those members of my family who do very vocally disagree with me.
ReplyDelete