Hopefully by the time you read this we will have had some rain. Meanwhile it’s mostly hot and dry, with a fine layer of dust and pollen on every surface indoors and out. To be sure, we’ve had a few welcome cool nights, and even dropped below the dew point once or twice, but that’s only enough to keep the weeds and the crabgrass happy.
Cob here with your weekly update on the latest and greatest happenings at Dancing Rabbit Ecovillage, or, as I call it, home. Hot and/or dry years are always particularly challenging for the ecologically-conscious gardener. Reliance on municipal water, while handy and convenient, isn’t necessarily sustainable in drought conditions, which means that when the rain doesn’t fall, I get to make some hard choices about which plants will live or die, and how I allocate my water supply.
My rain barrels are long empty, and my cistern nearly so. I’m striving to reduce domestic water use even more, in the hopes that the wet will fall from the sky before I have to lay out all my hoses and fill up on county water. My remaining seedlings are getting their full share, as are the few trees newly planted this year, but everything else is definitely entering into the survival of the fittest stage. If this turns out to be the drought year I’m now expecting, what does that mean for my plans for fall crops? What future assumptions do I need to pare away in recognition of reality?
Yes, rain will be welcome… and folks are doing everything they can to entice it. Bear washed our old pickup truck before putting it out by the road with a For Sale sign in the window. Thomas left for a week to visit family and left all his windows open. And, finally, knowing there is a slight chance in the forecast, we scheduled a recycling loading party at the most likely time. We encourage you all to consider bicycle rides and picnics too— let’s make it too tempting for the rain to pass us by!
“Four paragraphs about rain?”, I hear you cry. Well, yes, because it’s much easier to talk about than much of what has been happening this week. Oh, there’s plenty of good stuff too, no worries: amazing visitors applying for residency or seeking other ways to return to Dancing Rabbit, a Women’s Retreat with more powerful folk, a delightful 51st birthday block party complete with contra dancing for yours truly, and the much anticipated return of our dear friends Dennis and Sharon after months away for brain surgery and radiation therapy.
These are the things that uplift: the power of many people, acting in small yet thoughtful ways, to create an incredible level of support for loved elders in our community. The enthusiasm and verve of young people stretching their limits and learning new skills. Thirsty plants hanging on through a dry spell. Even the weeds that flower and bloom, programmed to trust that things will get better.
I don’t know about you, but I have certainly struggled with the news of yet another mass shooting in Orlando and the inevitable onslaught of vitriol and self-righteous judgement from ALL quarters. Whether one’s issue is with religion, immigration, gun control (or lack thereof), whether love is love is love, or politics, I respect and will strongly defend anyone’s right to disagree with me. But can we do it without the name calling and hatred, please? People who were simply going about their daily lives, and who wanted to just live, are now dead. How do any of the lies, divisions, and theatrical polarization from the majority of our elected officials and the media actually serve the victims or us?
What does this have to do with Dancing Rabbit this week? I’ll tell you. For all that we are bound together by a chosen set of environmental covenants and sustainability guidelines, we too have our differing political perspectives, emotional challenges, patterns of behavior, educational and economic backgrounds, life experiences, and assumptions. Fertile ground for disagreement and differing strongly-held notions for how to tackle any issue. And boy do we struggle sometimes. Competing hopes and fears, reactions and assumptions, and even just personal fatigue, are tough to work through. But that is what we do.
Often it’s messy. Sometimes we cry, sometimes we shout. But those who are not in the thick of it step in to remind us that we love and care about each other, and are trying in our own ways to move toward a solution that will work for everyone. Building bridges. Reminding us of our connections to each other. Holding those in distress with compassion. These skills seem ever more important as I get older.
Getting older has been in my awareness a lot lately. I no longer perceive the future as boundless. There’s tons to get done and I’m running out of time. I have dear friends who are suddenly dealing with the reality of being less physically capable in a physically demanding environment. My creaky joints are starting to resonate with that reality most every morning. As medical costs increase and those who can’t afford care are blamed for getting sick or poor life choices, what assumptions about my personal future need to be set aside?
Given all the factors in play, how do I decide when to extend support or withhold it? To immigrants fleeing war. To the LGBTQ community facing persecution. To my fellow humans being demonized for their religious or non-religious affiliations. To my dear friends who are suffering. To my parched gardens.
Some say that the act of gardening is an expression of trust in the future. So rather than fearing drought, or hating someone who is also simply trying to live their own life, I am choosing to focus on those things we have in common. A desire for peace, health, freedom, fellowship, trust in my fellow humans. This is really hard for me presently, with the omnipresent portents of a radically shifting climate. Setting political rhetoric aside, how resilient are we really? As individuals, maybe not so much. As a cohesive community, maybe a little better. But this stuff is BIG. What if? What if the worst predictions come true within our generation, or the next?
I am all in favor of dealing with the things I actually have some real control over. I can’t make it rain, but I can decide what to prioritize and what to let go of. I can call for shared understanding, compassion, and plead for civil discourse. We all have different ideas, assumptions, and blockages about what can or should be done for the common good, but I do believe we all desire that common good.
So let’s shift the talk. Let’s stop beating on each other so much, and start listening to the underlying hopes and dreams we’re all seeking. Let’s look to our elected representatives not for leadership, but service. To help us build these bridges, cross our divides, and guide us to sustainable health and prosperity. Us, individually, as families, and as a human family.
Whatever your personal beliefs, desires, preferences, now is a great time to communicate them with those we have elected. Your ideas don’t have to mirror mine. They could be the polar opposite in fact. What matters is that you share them so we can talk about them, and come together as living, breathing, feeling people, and figure things out TOGETHER. I do have hope for the future. For my children, my community, and even my garden. I’ll be calling my representatives about climate change legislation I support; I recommend you also create the opportunity to tell OUR elected representatives YOUR views.
Meanwhile, I’ll continue hoping for rain, ponder the mysteries of getting older, hope for a community and world that focuses on similarities rather than differences, and trust that there will be food to eat, people to share my hopes and fears with, and that my children will be as blessed with abundance as I have been.
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It’s getting closer! Our second Permaculture Design Course (PDC) at DR is happening Sept 17-25! We’re teaming up with Midwest Permaculture again, and will cover the full PDC curriculum, with creative and practical techniques for designing abundant food, water, energy and housing systems, plus in-depth info on what it takes to create authentic and long-lasting community. Click here to find out more or here to register now!
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Dancing Rabbit Ecovillage is an intentional community and nonprofit outside Rutledge, in northeast Missouri, focused on demonstrating sustainable living possibilities. Find out more about us by visiting our website, reading our blog, or emailing us.