I ♥ Dancing Rabbit (Part 1)

To kick off my column about what I love about living at Dancing Rabbit, I will immediately let you know one thing that I have not been loving about life here: the small dating pool. This is, however, the very thing that inspired me to share with you the things that I do love about this life that I and about 45 other people have chosen to live.

For the last few years, I have been exploring the world of internet dating. This never felt like a great option, but I live in a very small town in a fairly conservative state, and I am generally attracted to people who know better than to make a life here in the middle of the country, far away from large mountains… or really any mountains, expansive oceans, natural lakes, or even rivers that flow year round, and I like to be proactive when I want change in my life.

I have learned that one great way to get me to stop writing or carrying on any kind of correspondence (if you are on the other end of my internet dating) is to ask "what is it like to live at Dancing Rabbit?" I am tempted to answer, "well, it's kind of like living at Eastwind, but not exactly, and kind of like living at Twin Oaks, but different, and there is some resemblance to…" The point is, I just don't know how to answer that question. What is it really like to live anywhere?

However, during one internet correspondence that I had, I was asked "what do you love about living at Dancing Rabbit?" When I was formulating my response in my mind, I realized that my first thoughts (I was in a pretty tremendously unhappy mood and going through some hard times) were, "nothing… it is challenging… people are all up in my business… I make friends with people and then they leave… I waste my life in meetings pretending that I believe that we all hold a piece of the truth… my house is overrun with mice… I am working all of the time and have very little to show for it… I am far from my family… my ex-partner won't talk to me…" and the list could have gone on.

But it was far too early in our communication to reveal any of this thinking and I noticed that none of those thoughts actually answered the question, "what do you love about living at Dancing Rabbit?" (An aside that I think is funny and interesting: looking back at the original email, I realized that the question is not as I remember it. The actual question was "Tell me a little about your favorite part of living at Dancing Rabbit" and so I now realize that I didn't actually answer the question anyway because there was nothing little about the list I came up with.)

Regardless, the question that remains in my mind is the one I am writing this column about. This question has been instrumental in my navigation through life and the constant chatter about whether or not it is serving me well to live at Dancing Rabbit. And while thinking about that question, I took a deep breath, and another…. and another, and then a few more, and I was finally able to access what I love about living at Dancing Rabbit.

To actually make this column an ongoing feature, I will share only one or two or maybe three of my loves each time. Considering how my love relates to Dancing Rabbit culture (the topic of this issue of the March Hare), I think back to a time when I was building Ironweed kitchen with Sara and Ted. The time had come to raise the bents, heavy posts and beams joined together to create a portion of the post and beam structure, and Ted and Sara were away on vacation. Their absence allowed me to reflect on how amazing it was and still is to work together with people. I feel way more comfortable leading a big project when I don't know what I am doing while there are other people that are also holding pieces of the puzzle. I was acutely aware of the absence of my team.

Acknowledging my apprehension towards getting the task done alone, I pushed on and decided to make it happen. As we frequently do here, I announced at a Sunday Week In Preview meeting (when we schedule comings and goings, activities, ridesharing, etc.) that I was going to have a bent- raising party that week and that I had no idea what to expect of it or how many hands I would need. (My only experience raising bents at that point was on Skyhouse. Skyhouse bents were huge, two story monsters that in the time I was around were raised with the help of experienced contractors, and at that point an experienced Tony, and I still felt quite scared for our safety.)

Come Ironweed bent-raising time, people came, and came, and came until almost the whole community was there to help me and support me with the project that I felt so apprehensive about. As we came together to lift the bents everyone exclaimed "I am not carrying any weight." There were so many people that we all thought we were not actually helping. The power of group effort, combined intention, and strong will shined again at DR. Scenes like this are common here. In my eight years here I have seen a number of shifts in our culture, some that I am happy to see leave and some that I feel attached to. I feel satisfied knowing that for now, this coming together to help each other, is a way of life that has endured in the ever-changing ways of a growing ecovillage. Many hands make light (and fun) work.

If one example of what I love is not enough…well, there are those stunningly bright, juicy, red strawberries waiting right outside my door in the garden for me. And did I mention that it is perfectly acceptable to wear whatever I want when I harvest them, even if that is nothing…?

I ♥ Dancing Rabbit.

Many hands make light work, indeed.

March Hare Spring 2009 Issue 59

May Day		Rounds at Song Circle
I ♥ Dancing Rabbit		Childbirth at DR
Notable Quotables		YABRS Charter

editor@dancingrabbit.org

Come see our past issues for lots of Dancing Rabbit information.