A thousand years back, in a secluded monastery, an old man put these words to paper:
“Magical power,
marvelous action!
Chopping wood,
Carrying water.”
I really think he was onto something there.
Nik here, between rounds of chopping wood and carrying water.
Those words mean just as much today as they did so long ago. Although today’s modern equivalent would be other physical yet meditative work like gardening, working out in those “gyms” I’ve heard so much about, or re-flooring the rumpus room. At Dancing Rabbit, we keep that adage pretty literal, with so much wood to chop and water to carry.
When the world seems a bit too heavy on the shoulders, or you just can’t seem to find the right way out of a labyrinth of bad days, the magical power of physical work clears the mind, or at least slows it down…just enough.
While splitting and stacking wood, you watch the cords pile up. There, in front of your eyes you begin to estimate how many warm and cozy night are in that pile; how many comfortable mornings lie ahead this winter. If that doesn’t make your heart do a little dance, I don’t know what will. I just know my stout little Vogelzang stove will be well-fed.
Speaking of wood, my seasonal book recommendation to anyone interested in building, heating, and crafting with wood is “Hammer. Nail. Wood.” by Thomas Glynn. It’s especially good by a crackling fire.
In DR news, aside from canning and stashing away firewood like responsible little ants, it’s finally rounding the end of the visitor and tour season. The final visitor session starts this week.
Last weekend we celebrated our 17th annual Land Day, the anniversary of purchasing the land. A day-long celebration
Land Day started with a community-wide pancake breakfast (236 jacks were flapped!) and ended with an acoustic jam session of musicians from the tri-community area. Though my favorite, low-key part of the day was when most of the community just went for a walk.
We walked all the trails, really taking time to enjoy the land. Here and there a member would talk about the history of the old farmstead or about the flora and fauna. Every now and then, someone would pick something and tell the group to try it. From the banana-citrusy flavored innards of a fresh honey locust pod, to plump red and tangy autumn olives. The more we know and love the land, the more it provides.
As I scrawl this, a woolly bear caterpillar is crawling across my yellow legal pad. I’ve heard the Midwestern folklore all my life of the Nostradamus-like ability of the woolly bear: the blacker the caterpillar, the more severe the coming winter.
Well, I’ve seen fully tan ones, completely black fuzzy ones, brown bands of all sizes, fat ones, skinny ones, ones that climb on rocks… So what the winter holds is still uncertain. But I’m feeling warm and secure with those neatly stacked cords of wood outside my cabin.
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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.