Here at DR a storm has just passed, leaving behind the hum of late summer crickets, the tapping of water droplets as they fall from leaf to leaf, and tentative bouts of birdsong in the forest canopy above me. A hearty plop emanates from my neighbor’s rain barrel as big drips of water release from the gutter into the now-brimming drum. The land feels drowsy and full.
It has been an August of storms, roaring in from the west, laying billowing sheets of rain across the prairie, making deep, clear puddles that delight the kids endlessly. The storms bring life and destruction, ripening the eggplants and peppers to glossy plumpness, while also strewing branches of fruit trees and maples haphazardly across the paths. Turbulence and resolution, potential and risk, new growth and demolition–all are encompassed in the wild Midwestern storms that both nourish and batter our community in the summer months.
In this season we have also faced some emotional storm systems as we grapple with big questions, including those of community membership, village council leadership, and the stewardship of our collective agreements. Topics like these, which dig deep into our individual sense of security and belonging, generate their own social weather–inner and interpersonal storms which buffet through our bodies, hearts, and minds before eventually blowing into the eastern horizon. They leave behind their own broken branches, as well as those reserves of water that come from facing hard things together and making it to the other side.
After four years living in community I have come to see moments of emotional turbulence and conflict as natural parts of the human ecosystem, arising out of social winds and pressure systems that are beyond any one person’s control. Often, we do not need to run from the storm, but rather, make sure our house is in order and we have pulled in the laundry.
August has also brought moments of excitement and change. Having declared July our “summer break” from hosting workshops and visitors, many of us returned from travels this month, and the kitchen co-op I eat with went from being a skeleton crew to operating at full capacity in a sweep of joyful reunions. We said bittersweet goodbyes to some beloved community kids as they made their way off to college, and said hello to a new collaborative school for the younger kids organized by several parents and community members. We hosted a really lovely group of participants in our first Ecovillage Experience Weekend of the season, as well as a large group of freshmen from Earlham College.
Looking forward, Alis is working hard to get the base ready for the new cob oven that will be built in Critter Kitchen next weekend and I am putting my time and energy toward prepping for Singing Rabbit, our community singing festival at the end of the month. I often get really stressed out planning gatheringings like this, but as a wonderful team of song leaders and space holders have coalesced around the event I have slowly let go into enjoying the process and starting to build my own excitement around creating beauty with my friends. All is ripening, the moon is waxing, soon we will teeter into fall.
Upcoming Programs:
- August 28-30: Singing Rabbit (10 spots left) *Registration closes 8/25
Emeshe Amade is Co-Executive Director of DR’s nonprofit, the Center for Sustainable and Cooperative Culture. She is a regular contributing writer for this publication.