Sunday 27 October 2013

little houses.

 i remember when i would feel uncomfortable using my computer in public because of the lack of privacy, all the while telling myself it is a positive lifestyle change to treat internet time as an outing. now, over a year into this relationship with the web, i feel only gratitude for the wifi access provided throughout my city. this local coffee joint keeps me warm and distant from the autumn rain, and i am highly content to be around the quiet buzz of peterborough characters while i write. it took some time, however, to get to this point of feeling good about this change to my lifestyle, but knowing now through experience that i hold the power to kick old habits and values, i feel encouraged to continue reaching towards the goals i have long fantasized over. how can i live with a smaller footprint, wake to  sunrises revealing deep landscapes, work less, spend less, remain free to move around and yet making a comfortable home for myself? i've considered living out of a backpack, i've imagined renting for the rest of my life, and i've always longed for a private space to retreat to all the while wanting to move about the world.. i consider buying land and building a series of tiny houses, living communally with a kind group, and this idea makes life feel meaningful! i will work towards this, though the image in mind needs much refining.. for how can i spare myself from depleting my psychic energy when it comes to the cost of all of this? i reflect on the desire to own the land myself and continuously come to the thought that i am living too individualistically.. that for a sustainable life shared with a group of people that would become my kin is also to hand over hierarchy, to hand over this sense that i must own, and i must be in charge. easier said than done, though, as this tendency is so deeply set in my programming that to uproot it from my subconscious is a slow process.

~ patience. 


Sunday 13 October 2013

This is about me.

Vagueness aside, I am feeling compelled to write words out of their hiding. All of the poems, stories, reflections and essays I create are rarely shared and I am now confronting myself about their secrecy. Why do I keep my words hidden on pages darkened by a closed book? They sit silently on my bookshelf as if they were never written at all, shared only through my imaginings of releasing them in zine form, blogs and articles. I have been the only person to open those books, feeling temporarily recognized by the Other I imagined myself to be as I read my own words. My paradoxical love and fear of self-expression has twisted me into many layers of Fantasy that allow me to feel relief from internal tensions and safe from external judgement. But it is time to stop this tendency that ultimately keeps me feeling isolated from the rest of the world and especially those people I hold most dear. If I have learned anything these past couple of years, it is that participating in the Real and grounded world is where true fulfillment lies. To dream up desirable situations and live them inside my own head is no servitude to personal growth but rather a stagnating habit that makes a fool of me. Time to get real. 



Wednesday 7 August 2013

hidden by smoke.

pits between days of ease,
in which i pine for exposure.
i will shallow them out
to ground level,
and at last be seen and see.


Thursday 1 August 2013

rushing.

 these responsibilities are soon to be behind me, replaced by the rhythm of living in the woods!


Sunday 6 January 2013

Thursday 27 December 2012

Nestle yourself.

heading back to ptbh tomorrow.
only four months left in that city.