Mmm, hmmm, yes ma'am

Back in the USA!

"Oh, how you build me up, buttercup, and I don't want to let you down..."
Welcome to my reality. How I remembered that GF vegan pizza from
Cosmic Pizza, and oh, how it just weren't the same! What a great
wake-up to reality of the world instead of the one in my head. Now,
being in Texas, it's another kind of wake up. Talking about trusting
the universe and just being here now are not common topics of
conversation, so I haven't been saying much lately. Even Grandmother
noticed, but there are other reasons I've been keeping my mouth shut
around her. Can't seem to do anything right :)

Texas. Well, it's hot and muggy, they think vegetables come out of a
can, and there is nothing to do, especially not when the towns are 30
miles apart and everything's closed anyway. But, I'm not bored. I'm
hanging out with my family which is turning out to be quite
interesting, to experience the dynamics and get to know people better
and have some clashes of my own. Aren't these travels always a
learning experience? And, Bree and I are throwing out ideas for what
to do on our roadtrip back - visit Tucson, the Grand Tetons and
Glacier National Park, and visit some intentional communities on our
way back. In fact, we have so many ideas of what to do I joked we'll
be zig-zagging our way back instead of going in a straight line. Suits
me fine.

Homey homey homey home!

The closer I get to hopping on a plane and going home, the more
excited I become and the more I'm going to have to distract myself.
This is so exciting! Jump up and down exciting! Even though I'm
looking around me at all the beautiful people and places I haven't
visited, I am so ready and happy to be coming home. Yesterday was an
extraordinary experience - I felt so grateful to everyone, my
circumstances, my friends and family...A sort of giddy internal
grinning that sometimes came out in tears. I'm so happy because I
don't expect anything from myself, I don't expect myself to be happy.
How great is that?

I'm embarking upon the great journey home today. To Brissie,
Melbourne, then HOME!!!

Still don't know...and that's ok :)

Well, I don't know where else to write this, so here it is.

I'm a comin' home, but I'm not there yet. I'm spending my last days in
Oz in Noosa Heads, the Sunshine Coast resort town that's kinda like
Rehobath Beach in Maryland, Malibu in Cali, Seaside in Oregon. It's
summer weather here during the day - tons of people in singlets and
shorts, and people swimming! I watched two young boys playing in the
waves last night, just lolling about in the water while I sat and held
off the shivers in the wind. Australians are a hardy breed.

I thought I would do some processing of my time at Chenrezig while I
was here, and maybe that's happened, but for the most part, I eat,
think about eating, read and watch waves on the beach. It's pretty
good. Lately the book is Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire and I
wonder if JK Rowling put a witching spell on it because I can't put it
down! It is sooooo good! I'm so glad I'm at a point I can laugh out
loud at burping slugs and misbehaving leprechauns. Last night people
asked me what I was reading to get such a response.

I guess the one thing I have done is sign up for Facebook and learn
that possibly everyone I've ever met is on there. Wow! Imagine how
many people I'll know once I get a photo posted to it. It's like
having community available all the time. Wow.

Pretty much as soon as I get home, I'm leaving again for Texas, to
meet Bree and see some of those things called relations, and to road
trip home through the SW and I guess the North central part. I'm
aching to see mountains and I hear the Grand Tetons are spectacular.
One of the vollies at CI is in love with the U.S., and the way she
talked about being there helped me to see what an amazing country I
live in and how lucky I am to be live there. I'm quite excited to be
coming home, I can't think too much about it or I'll implode. One
moment at a time...

So, Aug 4 home, Aug 8 Texas, after that, who knows?

People ask me if I know what I'll be doing when I return to the states
and to be honest, I still don't know. No great career path has
blossomed in a dream, and I was told to let go of having one. That's
pk by me! The big difference is that now I'm ok with not knowing. I
know where I am right now, and maybe I know my next step and that's
all I need to know. I've spent too much time beating myself up about
not knowing.

Just breathe.

My time here has come to an end and I didn't realize how traumatic I
would find it. It's become familiar to me to say goodbye to places,
and I know I used to do it to a) run away from myself and b) as a side
benefit, have everyone tell me how they'll miss me and how great I am.

Here I am, dame situation, different circumstances. I am the leaver,
since I hate being left. I feel like my core group, my family is
breaking up here and I don't want to stay to see what happens next.
It's as if I believe it'll never have the same feel as it did. Wait a
sec - it won't, it can't. it's up to me to appreciate each moment for
what it is, how it is, without expecting anything more, or really,
anything else at all. Already I miss my friends here, I feel like I'm
crying for no reason, but I feel as if I've lost something precious. I
was reading an article today by Robina Courtin about anger. She
defined attachment (which leads us to being delusional and holding
onto anger) as that which makes us feel lonely, a sense of loss or as
if something is missing. Hello attachment.

The funny thing is, I'm really excited to be going back, to see my
family and love them hard, to see what happens next. It's almost as is
being a backpacker is an avoidance strategy - I'll just blip along,
tasting life here and there, staying where it's sweet and moving on
when it's not. That's not what I've done here - these last five months
are a continuation of the work I started in Yosemite, and again in
Lorinna, except now I feel I've come to a stage of completion. Once
again, I've found my center, but at a much deeper level than before.
It feels good, really good. I'm not unshakeable, but less bothers me
and that is liberating. For example, today I worked the supper shift
from 1 - 7:30pm. It gave me an opportunity to see Geshe Tashi Tsering
speak, but when I arrived for my shift, I was already tired. Having a
mindset of not wanting to do what I'd agreed to do is not easy to work
through, and certainly not with joyful effort. I watched my thoughts,
noticing when I got caught up in the negativity and stories floating
around, and then realized that all I had to do was be here now and
that holding onto my negativity was what was so tiring for me. I began
to watch my breath and a very slow 20 minutes passed. Then, I could
see clearer and I was able to work through the fog and weight. I'm
still tired now, at the end, but I'm aware and not simmering with
stories.

The talk today was on generating the mind of enlightenment and
developing bodhichitta, compassion for all sentient beings. The gompa
was packed, since Geshe Tashi Tsering came all the way from India to
give the talk (and do some ordinations yesterday). I really didn't
know what I might get out of the teaching, but I knew I wanted to
spend some time in the same room as the geshe - there's something
about him that really draws me. Seeing him yesterday, it was as if he
were glowing - I cried with joy (I think, it's never happened before).
I wonder more and more about this nun thing, especially with the books
I'm reading - Cave in the Snow, about an English woman who ordains at
21 and ends up living in a cave in India for 12 years. A remote cave.
Where she sees snow for 8 months of the year. The thing is, the
methods are so profound, and give great directions once they're
explained. I just...wonder. I also know I can always come back. That's
what everyone here is asking me anyway, although I recall asking the
same question of others just to be polite.

Smiling hard

You know that feeling once you've made a decision and you just want it
to happen?

That's how I feel right now - I've decided to come home, and now it's
a matter of counting the days til my plane leaves.

Time to go to the dharma talk - that's another benefit of having a
deadline. No more procrastinating!

Bit of a ramble!

With our latest cold snap and the arrival of some luscious new yarn
from a lovely package from Pennsylvania, the knittin' bug has
me...again. What can I say, it's good. It's SO good!

What am I knitting right now? Headbands. With inspiration from a
former vollie as well as encouragement from current vollies, headbands
are the thing. Talk about simple, and fast(er) to knit. I'm enjoying
watching the colorways wave before my eyes and allowing my creativity
to run wild on what feels like a blank slate. It's good to be creative
again. And...tonight is the first arts and craft night at Chenrezig!
There are so many creative vollies here at the moment, I figured I'd
take advantage of all that creative energy and start something - share
it around, create, express.

The days here are distinctly winterlike - crisp mornings and evenings,
days that darken by 5:30, and an urge within myself to be in bed by 8
pm. Fortunately, the actual days warm up reasonably well and in
between the occasional thunderstorm, it's sunny! I have to think about
sunburn when I sit outside at lunch time.

Things are balancing out for me here - I feel like I'm finding my
center more and more easily, and am better able to work from that, to
be in touch with my heart rather than my mind. People still ask me if
it's difficult to eat as healthily as I do, and I ask myself the same
thing every time I'm offered chocolate or a cake or we have crepe
night at the Family Center. More and more I'm realizing it's not the
food I want, it's the feeling I associate with having the food.
Chocolate means friends and family, togetherness, community. It's like
trying to find good Mexican food in France - more of a good idea than
good food. In fact, food is just food. Community is community, love is
love, friends are friends. None of these can replace the other. I ask
myself what it is I'm lacking every time I overeat. I've gotten to the
point of being aware I'm overeating while I'm doing it, not hating
myself for it, but just feeling compassion for myself and trying to
give myself the space and permission to look for what's really behind
it. I know I won't stop until I'm ready to face whatever this is -
probably fear of rejection - but I've stopped chastising myself for
it. How about that for compassion!

Taking a turn for the?

One of my new jobs is Dining Room Mistress -

What does this mean? It means I've been trained to make coffe and
thus, people happy. It also means I'm learning to keep a smile on my
face while working fast and hard. It really reminds me of bussing at
Deschutes. I hadn't planned to step into any high-energy roles while I
was on this spiritual adventure, but perhaps this means I'm ready for
it. Maintaining mindfulness while serving the public - now that's
practice!

Ah, a busy life in the middle of winter. Have I mentioned how bloody
cold it's been here? So cold I wonder how I'll stay warm from the end
of supper at 6:30 until I go to bed at 8, and I've given up meditating
in the Gompa because besides my legs going numb, so do my fingers and
toes! - brrr!

Sharing some great words of wisdom

This is an email from a friend here at Chenrezig who's off visiting
her mum in Tassie and discovering what a beautiful bubble we live in
here, and how important community is for happiness and
self-development. This uses buddhist words like 'sangha' which means
community, 'bodhichitta' which means compassion for others and
eradicating the ego, and 'dharma' which means truth. It doesn't matter
what words you use, what tradition you use, everyone is lookingto
follow their own truth, and everyone wants to live in community.

Hey guys,

I was just reading this wonderful book by Thich Nhat Hanh called
'Cultivating the Mind of Love' and wanted to share some of it with
you. Being away from CI and the wonderful community (and more so the
social community) has given me an even greater appreciation of what an
amazing place Chenrezig is and how precious the spiritual community
is. I have no doubt that many of you will experience these revelations
on departure (if you haven't already).

Anyway, I will share some key bits with you:

"Chapter 15 - The Next Buddha

Two thousand five hundred years ago, Shakamuni Buddha proclaimed that
the next Buddha will be named Maitreya, the 'Buddha of Love'. I think
Maitreya may be a community and not just an individual. A good
community is needed to help us resist the unwholesome ways of our
time. Mindful living protects us and helps us go in the direction of
peace. With the support of friends in the practice, peace has a
chance.

If you have a supportive Sangha, it's easy to nourish your bodhicitta.
If you don't have anyone who understands you, who encourages you in
the practice of living Dharma, your desire to practice may wither.
Your Sangha - family, friends and copractitioners - is the soil and
you are the seed. No matter how vigorous the seed is, if the soil does
not provide nourishment, your seed will die. A good Sangha is crucial
for the practice. Please find a good Sangha or help to create one.

Buddha, Dharma and Sangha are three precious jewels in Buddhism and
the most important of these is Sangha. The Sangha contains the Buddha
and the Dharma. A good teacher is important but sisters and brothers
in the practice are the main ingredients for success. You cannot
achieve enlightenment by locking yourself in your room. Transformation
is possible only when you are in touch...

Taking refuge in the Sangha means putting your trust in a community of
solid members who practice mindfulness together. You do not have to
practice intensively - just being in a Sangha where people are happy,
living deeply the moments of their days, is enough. Each person's way
of sitting, walking, eating, working and smiling is a source of
inspiration; and transformation takes place without effort. If someone
who is troubled is placed in a good Sangha, just being there is enough
to bring about a transformation. I hope communities of practice in the
West will organise themselves as familties....

When you are animate by bodhicitta, the strong desire to devote
yourself to the practice of the Dharma for the well-being of many
beings, that is all you need. Bodhicitta is a source of power within
you. The best thing you can do for others is to help them touch the
bodhicitta in themselves. The seed of bodhicitta is there; it's a
matter of watering the seed and bringing it to life. One of the most
important ways to nourish and protect bodhicitta is to find a good
Sangha. If you have a Sangha that is joyful, animated by the desire to
practice and help, you will mature as a bodhisattva. I always tell the
monks, nuns and lay practitioners at Plum Village that if they want to
succeed in the practice, they have to find ways to live in harmony
with one another, even with those who are difficult. If they can't
succeed in the Sangha, how can they succeed outside of it?..."

Well, anyway, I odn't know if this has sown any ideas in your
mindstreams but it has in mine. I think what we have together is
special and we should keep in contact. It's easy to take for granted
the nourishing environment that the CI community provides but harsh
realities await the unweary traveller! Live in gratitude for we are
blessed.

Lots and lots and lots of love,

Anna

How great is she? Lots and lot of love as well,

Annie

Purification? Who needs it?

"Annie, I'm so proud of you for doing this. You have changed so much."

It's noon and I'm talking to Annie at the computer. I feel like it's
been an eon since I've talked to her, but it's only been about 24
hours. I decided to participate in a Buddhist practice called the
Nyung Na, which is a powerful purification practice. I wanted to
experience it - how can I know what it is until I do it? Each Nyung Na
is two days, and they're going for 16 days total in a row, and a
number of people are doing all 16 days. The first day you have four
sessions of about 2 hours each, starting at 5 am, and doing a lot of
chanting, mantras and three progressively longer sessions of
prostrating, all dedicated to purifying yourself and your past lives.
You can dedicate your session to people you know who are suffering or
for the benefit of all sentient beings. You wouldn't think it would be
difficult, but it adds up. I noticed a tender spot on my forehead from
where I was laying my head on the ground at each prostration. I put a
pad there. Then my elbows started hurting, and my ribs, so on the
second day (today) I put a full-length pad down instead of the
half-length one that padded my knees. That was better. I'm evenly sore
all over now, none of this spot-soreness.

The other thing: day one you have one meal at midday, and can drink
liquids until 5 am the next morning. Day two you eat and drink nothing
starting from 5 am until the following morning at 6 or so when they
serve chai and applejuice. That's about 36 hours without food and 25
without water.

Yep, these buddhists like to suffer. I thought I'd get in on it.

The first day was interesting - I realized I wanted to know what they
were doing in the gompa (meditation hall) that we're not allowed in
unless we're part of the Nyung Na. I participated in the chanting,
learned how to pronounce some tibetan chants, some sanscrit chants, om
mani padme hum'd for many malas (108 beads on a mala, which is a
rosary) and bowed down innumerable times, reflecting on the suffering
of other countless beings and how small my own intentionally inflicted
suffering was.

If I got nothing else out of this retreat, I got compassion for the
people who are going all the way through. 16 days, eating every other
day, doing prostrations for about 2 hours a day, singing and chanting
and repeating verses without water.

The second day, I did the first session at 5 and stayed in the gompa
for the second session at 9. The whole time, I'm not really sure why
I'm doing a nyung Na in the first place, and today I really tried not
to pass judgement on the practice or why I was there or what I was
trying to get out of it. Sure, I was hungry and getting thirsty, and
my voice hurt from all the chanting, and my arms and ribs and legs
hurt from the prostrations, but I've handled physical pain in the
past. I lot more, to be honest. And I just finished this Vipassana,
which was among other things, painful. it's not the pain.

Sometime during the second session, I didn't want to do it any more.

Normally, my ego would strut in and say, "if you don't finish this,
you're a wuss and everyone will think you're weak. They won't look at
you the same way, and you won't have the same status as before."

My ego still said that, but I decided not to listen.

It also said, "If you don't want to be here, you're probably purifying
something and want to run away from the practice."

That was a more compelling argument, but I didn't feel like I was
repressing anything, or had anything to come out.

Hence Annie's comment when I told her I'd stopped doing the Nyung Na.

Three months ago I still would've been pushing myself to finish.

This feels so good! And I get to return and hang with my friends,
especially Annie, since she and Jorrit (another long-term vollie) are
leaving on Thursday. Anniccha, as Goenka would say. Impermanence, as
Anna's tattoo says in Japanese. I just sniff away my tears and smile.
It's the end of an era here at Chenrezig, and people are moving on,
out of the Family Center Sphere, bringing our special relationship out
to their encounters with new community.

I don't want things to change. I know they have to, and it's easy to
take for granted how easy it's been living with these amazing and
compassionate people. Perhaps change will help me appreciate whoever
comes in next, and the transformative last three months we've all had.

Another three vollies signed up for Vipassana. We've started a trend!

I'm out! And I'm back in!

Vipassana. Wow

Day one and two I worked really hard at being in bliss. It still hurt.

By Day three I was out of the bubble and counting the days until it was over.

Day 10 and 11 I really began to appreciate the interim days of
depression and seemingly endless pain. Anu, the Estonian girl who
signed up first and started the four of us on this Vipassana journey,
told me she took three naps a day during the course, skipping some or
all of the non-required meditation sessions. She had three days of
real bliss and came out glowing, smiling, giving hugs and massages.
Prior, I would've described her as the most reserved of our group. I
looked at her, listened to her story, especially the part about
realizing that she wouldn't want to meditate if she was in so much
pain and decided to take it easy on herself, and looked at myself
beating myself up about missing ten minutes of a meditation.

I've learned so much, especially in hindsight. Inside of it, it felt
interminable and like it was already over. Going into it, I knew I
would survive, but Days 3-9 were hard. They did get progressively
easier, with less and less of the day feeling like a prison. My main
thought was to leave Australia, set up shop in Eugene somehow and um,
start living. I'm learning every time I have this thought not to trust
it, to attribute it to ego, since I don't feel I have a home in Eugene
or anywhere. Almost ten days of ego! Argh!

The schedule is strict - 4 am wake up, 2 hrs meditation before brekky,
3 hours after, 4 hours after lunch and 3 hours meditation and
discourse after tea break. It's smartly laid out around the comfort of
meals, with the sessions getting shorter with more breaks as the day
progresses. I looked forward to Goenka's evening discourse each
evening, feeling like it was feeding me exactly what I needed to hear
to help me make it through another day. In the evenings, I went into
the hall dreading being there and half way through the discourse I
would begin smiling and sitting straighter in my understanding and
practice of equanimity. There's nothing like pain to teach you about
impermanence and understanding that good and bad are just labels. I
never got to the point of enjoying my pain, as one of Goenka's
students told him, but I understood it was possible by the end.

The more time I have out of the retreat, the happier I am with the
result. Having space in my mind to simply be - wow! When I do metta
meditation, it's not a matter of bringing love into me, but allowing
it to express itself out of me without censoring the feeling,, or
judging or covering it up with shoulds. It was there all the time!
This is probably the most exciting thing to come out of sitting. Other
things are having the strong determination to have a morning and
evening practice, to be aware of my body and myself in the moment
instead of projecting what I think I should want on myself, realizing
the negative voice in my head is just that - a voice that I don't have
to listen to . How great. I realized I went in with expectations and
pushed myself to meditate more, better, whatever to "get the most out
of this experience." How can you get any more than what you're going
to get? Learning to be gentle on myself - now that's a lesson worth
learning. I'm getting an idea of what it means, and practicing
gentleness and kindness more and more on myself.

The four of us that did this sit have a special energy, a
synchronicity together, an energy that we have that feels so natural,
it's impossible for me to imagine us without it. Other people notice
our energy, and especially noticed when we left, the hole, the
emptiness. And when we returned, the energy changed again. Being a
part of this community that feels so natural, so like family, so open
and giving and compassionate, is what I imagine my own community will
feel like, whenever and wherever that happens.

Peace and love, my global family

A peek into...

I'm off to Vipassana tomorrow for a retreat I'm really excited about,
in a quiet sort of way. Everyone here knows there's four of us going,
and I've been asked many times how I feel, if I'm ready, etc. I get
messages in meditation sometimes, and the latest one says 'exist in
the moment' so that's what I'm focusing on. I'm especially aware of my
expectations, of my experience with the last vipassana retreat and how
it's all about surrender - letting myself go and letting go of myself.
Just being.

It's hard to say goodbye to the group and the circumstance we have
going on right now. It's all really lovely - the house vibe of pure
positivity, where we look for what we can do for each other, where
compliments are rampant, where people ask how you are and wait for an
answer, where people really look at you, take notice of you,and where
you have the space to do the same. I want to keep this aspect, this
space in my life, and I guess it's up to me to do it. I have so
enjoyed the community here, and I know it won't be the same when we
return - we'll all change, I'm moving out of the Family Center and to
the Women's Dorm when I return, and Woody's doing the silent Nyung Na
retreat, which means the person I'm closest to here won't be talking.
I think I may be entering a space of much silence, who knows.

I asked the I Ching about what's next and it said Conjoining - finding
that spark and following it. It said this will be a long thread, a
good one to follow, and the first thing that popped into my head was
healing. I want to follow a healing modality - perhaps qigong healing
- at some point in the near future. I'm in a good part of the world to
explore my options.

So much has happened while I've been walking in the dark here. As it
was happening, it didn't feel like much, but I had a cry in the
kitchen this evening about leaving and everything changing, and then I
went about my business. We're having a last Happy Hour this evening,
gathering our core group together to enjoy and appreciate each other
and say those things we've thought but not said.

What I want most to keep in mind is that better things are coming.
This circumstance may not happen again, but I have the intention of
living like this again, of being this comfortable in community again,
and the world has a way of providing. Going with the flow, going with
the universe is effortless, it provides. And I am so grateful!

Resistance is Futile!

It seems like every week is a life-changing learning experience for
me. This week it's about listening to my little voice, the one that's
often covered by the big ego voice, especially in relation to food.
Yes, I'm having eating issues again, all related to self-love and
acceptance. What's funnier is not that I'm overeating (oh, yeah, bring
on the hot chips!) but that I beat myself up over it afterwards -
giving myself a beating from the inside and the inside! So, well,
western. WHat is up with us always beating ourselves up about what we
do? It's the past, it's unchangeable, it's only the now that I can
change. WHy not be gentle in the now? I think that being gentle is a
form of love. After deciding that I don't know what love is, what it
feels like, don't think I've ever been in love, I guess that means I
have a clean slate to work from. Being gentle to myself is a form of
self-love. How cool is that?

So even though I overeat, beating myself up isn't helping me digest
anything! Gentleness is key!

**

I went to a Mani retreat last week - this is developed around building
Bodhicitta, which is compassion for others (among other things). At
first I didn't care to go at all, had no interest in going and
counting mantras and chanting with nuns, which is what I thought it
was. I really didn't want to go! A nun began talking to me about the
retreat, describing how beautiful the ceremony is, and all the good
reasons to go. Still wasn't convinced. The retreat went for two weeks,
and on the last week, something shifted and I set the strong intention
to go to one 1.5 hr session. What's an hour and a half out of my life
if I don't like it? I may never experience this again.

So I went.

It was really good.

I even did the 20 minutes of prostrations at the beginning,
prostrating to the 35 buddhas and various other things. I'm trying to
think of a way to describe the session, but it feels like all I can do
is tell you what we did - prostrations then sitting and reading
prayers and chants from a booklet, then counting 'om mani padme hum'
on a mala, the 108-bead rosary-type thing, then more singing prayers
to complete it. When I recited the mantra, it was like a meditation
and I had some good fears come up I was able to look at and let go of.
I didn't realize how physically demanding the prostrations were until
I climbed the stairs out of the retreat and felt my jelly-legs - whoa!

This is one example of feeling strong resistance to something I didn't
know anything about and doing it anyway, and finding that I quuite
enjoyed it. What does that mean? I'm finding I have a strong
resistance to any formal teaching here, that my skepticism is through
the roof when they talk about karma or the hell realms or
reincarnations - all this stuff you can't see. Why wouldn't it be
true? I've heard so many different ideas and beliefs about how we all
work, why wouldn't this one? It's just the one that rings true to you.
To me.

*Smiles*

It feels like I'm falling into myself - you know how the first time
you do something, anything, it's difficult because you're learning how
and you're concerned about doing it right and what will other people
think and and and... but then it gets easier and soon driving a car
goes from learner-permit stress to taking your wheels for a spin just
for fun.

I feel like I'm taking myself out for spin, and I keep discovering
cool new controls and dials to play with. I've found the radio but not
the volume, I've found the baby in the back seat, the pile of
emergency gear, the inner peace.

What, your car doesn't come equipped with inner peace?

I guess I'm just lucky then :)

With this falling into myself, I'm coming to terms with the habit I
have of running away, especially when things are beginning to get
good, just when I'm starting to coast and don't have to work as hard
and I begin thinking, 'shouldn't (and I should pay attention right
here, this being a deadly should) I be doing something? Shouldn't I be
struggling? How could this possibly be this easy?" And I hop up and
run run run away from delving deeper than the surface. I got to the
surface in Corvallis, and ran away to Bend. Same thing in Bend - I
scratched the surface, got comfortable, and ran away to Yosemite. Got
comfy in Yose, and here I am in Australia, half way around the world,
still running away from myself. My latest plan was to do a vipassana
sit and then begin traveling again, because I felt I 'should' be out
'seeing' Australia.

I've been saying this whole time I'm not interested in 'seeing'
Australia, that it's the people I most want to know. Now that I'm in a
place where this is happening and I'm leaving?

Not anymore. I'm staying here, riding the wave, accepting that life
can be easy, it's not a struggle all the time. Or any of the time.

*Smiles*

Emotions Arising!

I've signed up for a Vipassana meditation course that starts May 13,
and I've got two other friends here who are going as well - they'll
help me get there, and being there will do the rest, I suppose. I've
been working through some good issues lately - grief and sorrow,
saying goodbye to Dan, letting go of my attachment to having a partner
and the clinginess that seems to follow. I've finally come to the
point of detached awareness that I'm able to feel these emotions
without identifying with them, and thus let them go. I'm really
grateful to be in this space - here at Chenrezig, surrounded by
like-minded folks who are often going through the same thing or
helping me to look at my own issues.

Life is becoming routine here, my relationships with people are past
the lovey-dovey stage and getting into the nitty-gritty of conflicts
and desires and projections of emotions onto others. I'm excited for
the next month, to see what it will bring, and also feel that it's
passing so fast. There's nothing to do but be aware, I suppose.

Two people have told me I've got nunhood in my future - that sent me
for a loop to start with, but I realize this could be very far down
the line. It's also what started me on the letting go of the idea of a
partner - every time I get close to a guy, I get attached, and then
clingy, which pushes him away and leaves me feeling rejected and not
good enough. It's amazing how I manage to manifest the same patterns!
And what's really amazing is that it's me making myself feel this way!
I'm the one generating these good, lovey-dovey feelings and the
feelings of rejection and aloneness. It's all me. Ultimately, I can
choose how I feel. That's another thing I'm working on right now.

The rain is still here, downpouring off and on, inviting the leeches
out and washing out the road yet again. The grounds crew is growing a
new set of shoveling muscles from digging out the draingage ditches
along the road. Oy.

House Happy Hour

I've been talking about the family vibe between vollies here at
Chenrezig, how when I walked in I felt at home, and how we work
together to think of what we can do for each other. In the beginning,
it's like a game, where you're always asking yourself, "what can I do
for someone else?" and then you wait to see if they notice, and you
see how you feel when they don't. Would you do it again?

Now that we're more comfortable with each other, unafraid of public
farting and sharing massages and personal fears, making fun of smelly
feet and talking about detoxing (seems like everyone's doing it!), the
energy has shifted. It takes a conscious effort to maintain a caring,
generous environment, it doesn't just happen. The things I'm learning
are that it takes many people and actions to maintain the sharing,
open energy that we've cultivated at the Family Center (the house us
vollies share). It takes seeing that the tea towels need washing, and
doing it, or mopping the floor, or noticing that someone is unusually
quiet and putting out that effort to provide a listening ear or even
just sharing a caring touch.

I don't know how I feel about all this maintenance work. It's so... constant!

Just kidding! This is something I'm really enjoying being aware of,
and contributing to - being a part of the massage circles, receiving
reiki and heart readings from our Spiritual Director who also happens
to be a gorgeous babe, being aware when someone doesn't feel good and
being in a space myself where I can offer a caring touch or the space
to listen. It's really cool - it's community! The thing is, this
community changes rapidly - we get new people every couple of weeks,
kind of in waves, and welcoming them into our close-knit group takes a
special effort because we're already so close. It's easy to stay in
the same circles, but so interesting to add new blood to the pool. I'm
sure the mozzies love it too :)

This last week Woody (Mancunian from Manchester, England, and the
person most would say keeps us together through his own openness and
vulnerability) devised a Happy Hour, loosely based on Plum Village's
Happiness Meetings, which we learned about from a very short-term
volley who'd spent three months there. Everyone gathers in a circle,
we ring a bell and do a short meditation on the last week - what
happened, if someone said something nice or helped us out, what we
appreciated about it - and then as each person has something to say,
you ring the bell and say it. Mainly it's about acknowledging the
kindness of others in a public setting. We did ours, using a
dish-drain as our bell (don't ask), and it felt a bit formal. After
the bell disappeared is when more people were able to share - saying
thank you, or I noticed that you're opening up.

I'm finding that my journey is lengthening itself. I decided to
surrender and changed my ticket to October, the same month I arrived
last year. It's a spacious feeling, not knowing what's next.

Do for you?

Wow - ah, the directions of life. I know now more than ever that
whenever I NEED to get home (wherever that is) I actually need to stay
here and deal with whatever's coming up. The other day I was talking
about this desire to run "home" that comes up every few weeks or so,
and we were talking about the concept of home. What is it, anyway? For
me? I don't necessarily have a home - I have parents who welcome me
into their house whenever I show up, but I don't have a space in a
community, I don't have a town, and what is home anyway? How can it be
anything but wherever you are?

As I was talking, hearing this out loud, a quote from the Dalai Lama
floated through my head - "Whenever I meet someone, I act as though
I'm a member of their family."

This makes the whole world a member of my family.

And I looked around at the people sitting on the porch, the people
I've shared stories with and talked about love and meditation and
surfing and frustration and shared massages with, and I realized that
right here and now, this is my family. If I accept these people as my
family, they are.

Here I am, in the midst of my family. I've been enjoying sharing and
caring - it's almost as if it's a contest to see who can do the most
for the house, without an ounce of competition or expectation. The
dishes are always done, someone cleaned the bathroom, rearranged the
porch furniture and indoor furniture, brought CD's to play, incense to
burn...every day, I ask myself, what can I do for this community I'm
living in?

How far can I stretch this smile?

Community is great!

I definitely recommend volunteering here. The people are amazing, the
food is...amazing, the practices I can take or leave, and the place is
beautiful. My second week here I got a roaring soar throat, head cold
thing that knocked me flat right in the middle of my work schedule. I
was out for three days and the whole time people were telling me just
to stay in bed and get well, no pressure to work (except from myself)
and then when I resurfaced, they all asked if I was feeling better! I
felt so cared for. Talk about community! It's what I've been talking
about and looking for since the beginning of my trip. It's what I'm
excited to create and be a part of when I get back home.

Speaking of which, I'm heading out of Chenrezig on the 28th or so, and
here is what I envision: take a "Wicked Camper" for relocation to
Melbourne, pick up two or three friends/hitchers/serendipitous
connections and mosey down to Melbourne by the 1st, because I leave
out of there the second. I am open to leaving earlier and having a
longer trip, because it's about the people!!! for me, and that's who
I'm enjoying here as well.

On the note of traveling solo, I have to say, it is great. I wouldn't
have said this two months ago, six weeks ago, but now I wouldn't
change it for anything. There is a confidence, an enjoyment I've
developed with being on my own, making my own decisions and being free
to dither or act decisively or change my mind at the last minute.
Directly before coming into this feeling I really tried hard to
convince my friend and my sister to visit me here and be my travel
buddy. It's a lot like me wanting to go home all the time - I have
waves of wanting to flee away home and then the sense of being
perfectly comfortable here. Right now, I'm really comfortable with
traveling on my own, and I'm just appreciating where I'm at and who
knows where I'm going.

Going swimmingly!

*Smiles*

Buddhism may not be the philosophy for me, but a spiritual community
feels like the best fit so far.

Andy and the Korean Wwoofer Ji Yung dropped me off on Sunday at
Chenrezig. I stood at the base of a long set of stairs reaching
seemingly all the way up the hill, with my backpack and pink Chico bag
in hand, thinking, 'why do buddhist centers always seem to be on
hills?'

Then I started up, conscious of how much huffing and puffing I was
doing (not too much, I happily noticed) and climbed my way to the Big
Love Cafe, where I was offered lunch twice, welcomed by the
work-exchange vollies and a notice on the notice board, asked if I'd
like to join in an expedition to Landsborough to experience a
community healing in the hall and given the day to settle in and
explore.

I felt right at home.

I feel even more at home now.

Kirsty, the volunteer coordinator, put me on housekeeping as my
work-exchange. I thought, 'housekeeping! what about helping in the
kitchen, that's where I'm most comfortable and happiest!' But I didn't
complain or say anything, since I hadn't yet experienced housekeeping.
After a day of thorough and sometimes repetitious training I thought I
could handle it. After the second day I decided I was the luckiest
volly to get to do housekeeping instead of slaving away in the
kitchen.

Imagine: breakfast is from 7-8 am. I waltz in around 9am and meet
Lesley, my boss (she calls me her off-sider, which is a friendly
helper term, unlike the American 'sidekick' which isn't so nice). We
begin with cleaning the main bathroom, a partially outdoor concrete
affair with cobwebs and mold as part of the infrastructure. One thing
I'm learning is about the prevalence of mold in this climate - it
seems pervasive and unavoidable. Ugh! We clean toilets and do washing
and mop and sweep up after the bush turkeys that have taken up
residence just uphill of the path to the toilets, and when it's as
clean as natural cleansers (which still make me sneeze!) can make it,
we head to reception to find out what rooms we're cleaning, and that's
how we arrange the day. The reasons I like it are many: there's no
stressful deadline like serving lunch at noon, sharp. If I'm having an
interesting conversation at lunch, it's ok for me to continue having
that conversation until it's over because there's no rush. Lesley has
lots of information about Buddhism, she tells stories and speaks
French from living in New Caledonia for 30 years, and she's wheat and
dairy free like me. On the days Lesley has off, I work by myself,
deciding on my priorities and working my schedule around teachings
that might interest me.

I'm learning about making my work simply a part of my day, my
lifestyle, instead of something I DO. Previously, work is a concept
I've had a hard time with because of my perception of it as a trade: I
give you my time, you give me money. Here, I volunteer my time, I get
fed and a place to sleep, I can go to as many teachings as I'd like,
and I live in a place where we actively support monks and nuns in
their spirituality, where the dharma is discussed daily and practiced,
daily.

What I'm doing is a willing exchange, not a perceived necessary one.
Still, I wonder if the resentment I've felt in practically every other
job will surface here as well - I don't see why not. With that in
mind, what better place to experience it and deal with it?

One afternoon I swam in the ocean with bluebottle jellyfish; last
night I dreamed I was going the wrong way on my path and that I turned
around and walked the right way - I was happy at the end. I also
dreamed of a great red kangaroo in the dawn that bounded away with
amazingly high leaps when I spotted it.

Even if I don't agree with the things I'm learning about Buddhism
here, I'm thoroughly enjoying myself in this community, and I'm
finding myeslf eager to come home to see what kind of community I find
or will start. More and more, it's how I see my life. I wonder what my
role will be in creating community - instigator, social glue, drama
queen - who knows? I'm focusing on the present and realizing that's
the only thing I can do. It's almost as if everything else has already
been decided and it's just up to me to act it out, with all my
indecision and drama and attachment and aversion. As my friend Dan
said, "Anchen, whatever step you take is the right one!"

What's next?

I'm embarking upon a month of monastic silence and prayer at the
Chenrezig Institute in Eudlo, near Maleny in Queensland. I've been
staying in Heaven in the Hills, a retreat center where we care for
burnt-out carers and generally wash up, serve food, make beds, fetch
and carry...and make wonderful mosaics! I made the most beautiful
table that (if you couldn't tell) I'm super-proud of. Carol, who owns
the place, is the non-stop mother replacement and Andy is the live-in
caretaker who has kidney disease of some sort, so when he's not
pushing himself to accomplish things, he's napping. It's beautiful
here, very green, with a view over the valley and occasional afternoon
thundershowers that roll in, roll over and roll on. Beautiful.

I've been working through a lot of emotional stuff lately, which means
crying for no reason, talking about my childhood, and listening to AJ
Miller talks - this guys who says he's Jesus reincarnated. It is the
most interesting thing, but mostly, he talks about processing the
emotions you have that make you react or act funny or get angry - it's
just about allowing yourself to experience them and then let it go so
you can move on. The thing is, the wounds often go really deep, so
finding the source of the emotion can take a while. I wonder how
they'll take all this emotion at Chenrezig?

What's surprising to me is that I'm realizing I'm excited about
returning to Eugene and exploring the community there - something I've
never done, even though I grew up there. I want to stay in the states
with this community - I'm too attached to family to leave, and the
incomparable country, especially Oregon - and that's a good piece of
honesty for me. Previously, I claimed I couldn't stand to live in the
states because of its political history. Every country has it - who
says that one place is better than another?

And, just to come clean, I won't be silent (But maybe praying, who
knows?) at Chenrezig.

Oh, the places I'll go!

Man, what to write about when nothing's been happening?

I could tell you about the rainy weather we've been having - seems
like it follows me everywhere! I came to Australia for a second
summer, but it's been more like winter everywhere I go. I wonder if I
really do have such a pull as to change the weather? I've got good
supporting evidence:)

I could tell you about the wonderful people I'm staying with here at
Heaven in the Hills. "Welcome to Heaven," said Carol, a red-haired
snake who towers over me and is quickly taking the place of my own
mother, who owns and runs the place. Andy is the resident handyman, a
rooster as well, and the nicest English bloke you could meet. They
call me Annie here - I asked to be called that - and what a strange
thing to hear Annie instead of Anchen! It's a bit of an identity
crisis, an ego-bind, hearing this name and calling it my own. I think
this may be a fleeting experiment, but we'll see. It's challenging,
for sure.

I could tell you about the place I'm staying at. Heaven in the Hills
is four self-containted cottages for people or groups to come and
chill out. Fortunately for me, everything's been done already and
Carol's selling the place so she can go somewhere and have her own
retreat. Meanwhile, it's a beautiful bush property on a hill with a
view toward the coast, lots of leeches (I took an angst-filled walk
yesterday and found four, no, six leeches on me and my clothes. They
still disgust me), bromeliads and epiphytes on the trees, wallabies
hopping over the grass, and tons of potential for...more efficiency.

I could tell you where I'm at. No longer in Cairns or anywhere near
there, since it's having record floods and nobody wants a wwoofer to
hang about in their house, I headed (flew, there was no ground
transport) to Brisbane and wanted to spend some time in Crystal
Waters, the permaculture village. I've ended up in Maleny, a center
for alternative living. You can tell just by walking down the
mainstreet - it's called Maple St, no Main st. here! There's a coop
and an IGA right on the main road, and sign posted here and there
saying "We won't shop there" referring to the Woolworth's that just
got put in. People object to Woolies here like they object to Walmart
in the States. The area is beautiful, and February is supposed to be
the hottest month, but I've yet to see that. I swear, I've had about
four hot days in all of Australia! I have a strong feeling I could
just spend the rest of my time here, cooking (there's a walk-in
fridge!) and doing qigong in the yoga room downstairs. It's pretty
ideal...

But there's so much more! Who knows who else I'll meet? The people
make the journey!

WET! and Ironic

Last week I left the wonderland of Tasmania for the unknown of
Queensland, went from temperate rainforest to the tropics in the
middle of a flood. Ironically, the only way it appears I'll be able to
get out of here for the next month is to fly...Julianne (my host) did
write to tell me I was better off staying where I was, but it was too
late; I'd booked the ticket for the third time and made up my mind. I
can always come back, I consoled myself.

I've been in Queensland what, four days, and it's rained. Torrential
downpours and gentle drizzle, a good soaking rain and the kind that
just won't stop - they've all passed through, and no doubt I'll see
them again. Fortunately, Ravenshoe (pronounced raven's hoe) seems to
be getting the light end of the storms, so we were able to do some
weeding in Julianne's amazing garden, wherein I learned how to avoid
the nests of black ants I disturbed as I unearthed weeds from around
plants. Their bite isn't so bad - it's like being knocked on the ankle
with a rock, and then it's gone. You have to watch out for the ones
with the golden bums - they hurt for ages. They're also about an inch
long and solitary, so it's easier to spot them and then stay out of
their way.

Other thing I learned about floods: turtles will crawl out of the
streams and wedge themselves into cracks high up in the riverbanks
when there's going to be a flood. Seems like they don't want to be
washed away. Also, Butcher birds (there must be another name for
them!) will sing when it's going to be sunny, as will Kookaburras, but
they tend to be pranksters, so you can't trust them. We've had
kookaburras laughing this morning, and the rain's holding off. I even
saw a shadow!

I'm staying at a former permaculture nursery in Ravenshoe, with
Julianne and her mother (who's also visiting), Lynn. They've both been
pretty much housebound for the last two weeks, and you can tell it's
wearing on them. They've started going for drives in the rain and
washing the ceiling with a mop. But, they're both very nice
ladies,Lynn being an Australian and American citizen, so we can talk
about Costco together, and Julianne has an amazing store of plant and
herbal knowledge she shares easily and without judgement of my vast
ignorance. When she's not here, she and her partner, Rob, teach
permaculture and bamboo workshops in East Timor, which just got its
independence in 1999 or so. Bamboo can save the world, is what she
told me. It has about 1000 uses and another 500 ornamental uses, it
grows fast (you can harvest it every year once it's established) and
it's strong.

I've been meeting people quite frequently who throw around sentences
like, "save the world."

It usually has to do with permaculture.

PERMACULTURE

Permanent Culture.

Make sustainability a part of your culture.

It seems every permie keeps chooks, and thus has mountains of eggs. I
get the feeling that there's only so many eggs you want to eat, and
then it's a matter of using them somehow, giving them away, hiding
them, who knows. Julianne has about 15-20 chooks and we just got a
rooster the other night. When we weed, it all goes into the chook pen.
By the time we were done weeding the chooks had a green bed inside and
outside, and more on the way. Once you start weeding, it's hard to
stop. It's like vacuuming - such an easy way to see a difference, the
satisfaction is more fun than the discomfort of kneeling or squatting
in awkward positions.

I learned that if you store eggs pointy side down, they last longer.
Pointy-side up, the yolks stick to the side.

I learned some insider's tips on playing scrabble. Did you know that
CH is a word? As is em, en, da - it's amazing what passes for a word.
I'm hoping we play again, so some of this will stick.

Julianne's strongly suggesting I get out while I still can, as the
weather looks to be the same rain for the next month. That means
flying.

I've just been enjoying being warm, walking barefoot on soft ground,
listening to the rain in all its melodies, looking at the gorgeous
tropical plants, learning what a sweet potato looks like and about the
many uses of bamboo, walking barefoot outside (did I mention how
amazing this feels?) listening to the birds, looking at and learning
about unfamiliar, exotic plants, tasting tropical fruits like the abui
and tamarillo, and never needing to put on more than a long-sleeved
shirt. Oh, the tropics! Why do you have to be so wet?

Hello and Goodbye!

Hello me lovelies1

Yep, I'm still in Tasmania! (How many blogs have I started off with
this admission?) I keep finding more community and extending my stay
to get to know people better, to have more experiences with them, find
more connections or deepen the ones I have.

I'm staying at Celia's house with Jacob (a PDC participant) and Henry,
Celia's oldest son, while Celia and Marissa (Jacob's travel buddy) are
rowing on a trip called Tawe Nunnaguh, an historic voyage in oar and
sail-powered whale boats from Recherche bay to Hobart. Whew! All of
the people above are some of the ones I'm really enjoying hanging out
with. Marissa and Jacob are fellow Americans, from the midwest,
hitching and working their way around Australia. I feel like a posh
traveler with my massive duffel and nights in hostels after I hear
their stories of camping in parks and working for crazy people in
Dover. I feel much more comfortable in trusting in the universe after
hearing their stories, though. They (and a couple course instructors)
helped me sort out my stuff and pile it into get-rid-of, store in
Melbourne and take-with piles. I also found the perfect bacpack at an
op shop in Huonville for $30 and now it's a matter of deciding how
little to take with me. I think it could all fit, I just don't need
most if it. Like this computer :)

The last three weeks have been bliss, full chaos. Up to 26 adults and
children circulating through the house and outdoor kitchen, people
crowding around the bench at morning tea, tying down bamboo blinds and
shutting doors against the wind and rain, waiting for real summer to
hit and then laying around like fainting ladies when it does (like
yesterday!). I've postponed my ticket twice, I've been having so much
fun having a home base and being able to do whatever I want. This is
how I'd like to live all the time, and I keep meeting people here who
do that – Celia's a full-time mom, and many people work just two or
three days a week here. I even met a guy (ex-pat American, in fact)
who hasn't worked in the last two years – he's a freegan in a very
opportunistic sense of the word, and he trades or barters his
mechanical skills for the rest of what he needs. It takes a special
kind of person to manage that, admittedly, and I imagine that he uses
cash for some things. I'm learning all different ways of living here,
meeting so many cool, generous people, and finding that the more I
allow things to happen without worrying about how or why, it flows
better than I could ever plan it.

So I really think I am heading to Queensland this time – I haven't
booked my ticket yet, but I keep feeling the call of Queensland, and
it's not going away until I go and see for myself. I've heard from
everyone here that Tasmania is the coolest part of Australia, from a
woman that's traveled the world for five years, to all the Peter's (at
least five) living here who aren't from here, to fellow travelers who,
like me, don't want to leave. I keep reminding myself I can always
return, like when my mom, sister and I were in Italy and we returned
to Venice because it was so cool. It's only me setting limits to what
I want to do anyhow.

Since I'm storing my computer for the rest of my trip, I doubt I'll be
blogging much, if at all. I'm not talking about the same things
anyway, and it's much more about my interactions with people and how I
feel than what I'm seeing or doing. I could tell you a chicken just
got attacked by a hawk and I helped put tea tree oil on its wing, and
that sounds exciting, it's something that's happened, but I'm just not
interested in writing about it. I'm realizing how important people are
to my social sphere, and I'm giving up my less social activities to
spend more time with people. Goodbye, knitting. Goodbye, knowledgeous
books. Goodbye, homemade drop spindle. Goodbye, computer. Goodbye,
Australia guidebook.

Hello, neighbor!

The great wind!

'Im interested to see what will come out after such a long silence and
so many things happening. The thing is, one thing is just as
interesting as another, so nothing feels unusual and like something I
want to write about. What's most interesting to me is what's happening
to me and my personality, the way I view the world, my development, if
you will.

What's new on the Anchen development front? I feel I've entered a new
era of calm, which was well-tested yesterday (the Day of the Great
Wind) when it seemed like we had disaster after disaster happen. The
morning dawned blustery and cloudy, and it grew, built upon itself,
worked itself into a frenzy, until we tied down the shade cloth in
front of the kitchen and overturned anything that might pick up the
wind and blow away – sheets of tin, wheelbarrows, the dishes in the
dishdrain, buckets, clothing, everything. It was so windy I could feel
my liver acting up, all irritated and frustrated for no reason, so I
ended up disappearing up into my loft where I could listen to the
chaos without being a part of it. Random bangs and crashes punctuated
bouts of really strong wind where the gums trees sounded like the
rapids in a river.

The big events that happened yesterday? Celia's french doors were
ripped off their hinges and one ended up sailing off the deck to the
grass below, almost taking the course instructor with it. That
happened while I was in my loft. Later, after the glass was mostly
cleaned up and the gaping hole covered with shade cloth, after a
student called her husband and he was working at patching the hole,
another student found Rick (our course instructor) injured in his
tent. He'd been hit by a falling tree branch, and possibly fractured
ribs, his pelvis and his spine.

It feels yucky to rehash these events this morning, now when it's calm
and beautiful outside, now that things are peaceful again.

The truth is, I don't really feel much like writing anymore. I'm not
surprised by things, and everything is wonderful. I had a realization
that all negative thoughts I have are ego, all doubts and fears, that
anything that's not positive is not me. One of the really great
aspects of the PDC is that the people here are all on the same
wavelength of wanting sustainability and looking for alternatives to
how they're living right now. That means we've got a strong
concentration of like-minded people, and I'm finding that it's easy to
relate and express myself around them. For the whole course, I've been
saying I'm not at a point where I can learn permaculture, it's too
much information for my already over-loaded brain, but I'm having a
ball cooking for the students and hanging out with students and
instructors in between and after class. We tried spinning poi one
night, and other circus tricks, and last night we all went to pizza at
the local wood-fired pizza joint. I'm experiencing the feeling of just
being ok with who I am and how I am, and enjoying the people around me
as they are.

Chaotic wonderfulness

Hello me lovelies!

First off, apologies for the long silence.

Secondly, I am thriving in the midst of chaos here in Franklin, on
Celia's permaculture haven where we're starting a permaculture design
course today with thirteen people plus six kids, five volunteers, one
wwoofer and assorted poultry and dogs. It's fantastic! I get to cook
loads of delicious food and appreciate the morning sunrise over the
Huon river.

Let me describe where I'm at to start. This farm is on 15 acres of old
orchard on a green hillside overlooking the Huon River. The
East-facing house was built last year of Celerytop pine, a hardwood
specific to Tasmania (I think, anyway. I've certainly never heard of
it!). It houses four kids and one mum, plus the assorted wwoofers,
teachers, relatives and guests. Wooden floors and tall ceilings make
this feel like home to me, as well as the ensuing chaos of kids,
animals and people trying to 'get things done.' I sleep in the newly
built loft in the shed, a haven in the midst of this insanity, up a
rickety old ladder Celia got from the tip shop for $7. I do have it
all to myself, so when I get up at 5 in the morning, I'm not
disturbing anyone. I am having the most fun rising before anyone else
in the quiet dawn and watching the orange blaze over the opposite
hillside turn to the golden orb that eventually wakes everyone else. I
make tea and stand for an hour in my loft, then make more tea and do a
relaxed set of qigong partly in the kitchen, looking out over the
river (best view in the world for doing dishes), and then move outside
to the fire circle just to the side of the house as it warms up. By
the time I'm done, the kids have started feeding chooks and someone
might even be making breakfast. And then the day starts, with people
starting projects like the expansion of the poo pile (there will be 25
people or so here for two weeks, it's going to be quite a pile! And
quite a lot of compost for Celia's fruit trees!) or whipper-snippering
around the fuji orchard. We're moving the kitchen outside today, so
we'll be transporting pots and pans and finding places for them to go.
Another volunteer, Kim, who's wwoofed all around it seems – New
Zealand, Australia, Scotland – will be heading up the kitchen crew,
and I get to moonlight as whatever needs to get done. Wonderful!

There's already such a conglomeration of neat, intelligent, informed,
excited and passionate people here for the course, I'm excited to meet
the rest of the teachers and students to see what they'll be like.
Honestly, this is the crowd I dreamed about when I thought of Tasmania
and community. Here I am, here they are, and it's great. Celia is
easily involved in every happening in the little community, especially
the Living Boat Trust. It's a large warehouse-type shack at the edge
of the river, full of wooden boats in the process of creation, hanging
off their frames until they're float-worthy. Truly a beautiful place
to be, peaceful with people working with handtools.

It's getting crazy here as more kids wake and start playing a piano
and guns and eating brekky and and and...oh yeah, the course starts
today, so we'll be doing a last push to finish what we can. La de da.