Moving Forward While Retreating

I am happily writing this from the comfortable spaces at the Milkweed Mercantile at Dancing Rabbit, my third time here in five months! Nine of the Eleven of our Writers Workshop group from August, The Unruly Allies of the Safe Container, made the trek here. Quite incredible, in my opinion! Once again we shared words and laughs, as well as tears and food. Peter brought Bertha Bus and his fiancé Ann spent much time prepping food for some delicious dinners. Combining our days in August, I have been with these other writers for a total of nine days. I consider them to be my new, lifelong friends.

I have a desire to see Dancing Rabbit in all four seasons. The summer months are lush and active, the plants and people busily making use of every hour of daylight, and beyond. Harvesting the fruits of their labor and diligently working to preserve and put food by for the colder seasons when the land and the village slow down. While on a walkabout with a couple friends, one pointed out this squirel in a tree, eating an osage orange, bulking up for the winter. I can only imagine the colder days of winter or the warming of the spring.

The people of Dancing Rabbit refrain from calling the ecovillage a commune, the very term with which those on the outside most identify. This results in me having to explain the difference and dispel that notion. That being said, one of the greatest features of Dancing Rabbit, in my opinion, is the pond. Created a few years ago for the purpose of recreation, this space is a gathering spot for those looking to cool off, play or exercise. In my summer ventures to Dancing Rabbit, I was reluctant to swim as most all others did, au naturel. As much as I wanted to dispel my inhibitions, I could not do it. Of course, none of the rabbits made a comment and all were accepting. But yet, from within, I pressured myself to take the plunge. I was disappointed that I didn't take advantage of this opportunity. I vowed that before the year was done, I was going swimming.

On Friday, despite the temp of 49 and a brisk November wind, I took a plunge into the DR pond. I won't say I swam. I would call it more of a baptism. I waded in, dunked myself under and was out within a minute. My legs were a bit numb but the shock was exhilarating! I walked the seven minutes back to the Mercantile barefoot, enjoying my last direct contact with the earth and grass for a while, proud of myself for my first ever skinny dip, however brief it was.

Once again I find myself thinking and journaling about future plans. My path seems to becoming clearer. When putting together an intricate puzzle, like most people, I group pieces that share commonalities. Edges in this pile, ones with yellow and red over here, etc. With the puzzle that is my life, I feel like the pieces are coming together; I can finally start connecting things. I am feeling some excitement as mentally, plans are becoming more clear. While I have been here at DR, I've taken some of my time to go on walkabouts around the village. I even toured Sparrow's Nest, formerly Gobcobotron, as a potential place to rent for next summer. I love the location, the garden space, the neighbors and the amenities this dwelling offers. Now I need to step back from my emotional dreaming, crunch some numbers, figure out some logistics, and see if I can make this work. I will also continue to wonder, what is holding me back?