Bikey

Not a Great Image, but here I am.

 Darling did the rough work of unpacking the bikes and putting them back together. But I knew the moment I packed the boxes in the first place, six months ago in Virginia, that I'd have to get the brakes in working order myself. My bike has been insanely dependable for a $150 thoughtless purchase off Craigslist. I've put over a thousand miles on it and haven't had to air up the tires once. But the brakes and gear system have always needed a little extra care and attention.

The trick to doing bike maintenance is to spend time with your bike. It is both very complex and incredibly simple. There are a lot of little bolts that don't seem to have a purpose until they suddenly do. I'm amazed at how many people I've met who can't do the most basic bike repair, repair that requires the most basic tools and a single skill: observance. Simply look at the area that seems to be giving you trouble, fiddle, and eventually you'll work out how to solve the problem.

Getting my bike in working order required me to play with the brakes a little, as I expected. I also had to re-align my back wheel, which basically involved taking the wheel off, shouting at it, and putting it back on. The seat is actually giving me trouble as well, but I've put the rack back on to hang my pannier and the beast is ridable again. The entire process to about an hour and two bottles of beer. Not bad, for a surprisingly cool Summer day.

And now, for the job I actually drank the two beers to help me complete: applying for a job at corporate hell. More on that later. Trust me, it's all very Permaculture-y.

Achieving Real Change

Up until now I've been describing Permaculture clifnotes, basically, through the filters of my own limited experience. No real new information, but a sort of review, a review I myself have orbited for some time. Afraid to meet on a more intimate basis, but too wise to abandon.

Mollison has laid out an ethic I find to be authentic, applicable, and deliciously subversive. He's done his part, as a teacher. What is my part, as a student??

Does one begin with the prime directive, or rules of conservative use? Chapter Two is entitled "Concepts and Themes in Design. I don't want to talk about the hows and whys of design just yet. I want to talk about the hows and whys of destroying what is already there. Because, by my standards, this is the most neglected area of transformative literature today.

Nothing happens in a vacuum. Not finances, not marriage, not diet. For all the information out there on how to create a new you, there is almost no information on how to dispose of the old self. The ego that demands change in the first place.

This is significant because the self, the ego, will fight tooth and nail to maintain the status quo. There is a reason certain women go from abusive relationship to abusive relationship, why addicts switch vices more easily than they outgrow a crutch, why I crave crappy jobs. That reason in the same for everyone and unique to each of us. And real change is not possible if that reason is not addressed.

We each encompass a certain identity within a particular context. That identity is largely shaped by what we thick we are. Unfortunately, few of us know ourselves very well. Humans are natural hypocrites. We are also, quite perversely, drawn most strongly to what we most want to avoid. Thoreau rightly diagnosed man's "quiet desperation," (as well as, I believe, the cure). Even the ambitious and successful among us seem to operate within an ever-changing context with a fairly static identity. Circumstances change, but only to the extent that we allow them.

There is only one way that I know to fuel voluntary change and growth without the benefit of a significant change in environment: one must recognize the area in which one is wrong, accept that inadequacy, and learn a different belief.  

Every choice that anyone has ever made, right or wrong by any standard, was justified by the maker at that time. We can, and will, justify our every decision. To break our diet, smoke a cigarette, cheat on our spouse, buy a car...So we must recognize that our reasons for behaving in any way are not special or right simply because they are justified, even if you have a "good reason." Everyone always has a good reason.

What's more insidious is that we will habitually set the terms and maintain the conditions for our reasons. We'll break up with one drunk, but we'll go to bars to meet men. We'll quit the terrible job, but we'll apply for the very next one on craigslist out of fear that nothing better will come up in time. We'll greet a pay raise with a slight increase in living expenses, such as an upgraded cell phone. Thus we maintain our unhappy identity and rationale for irrational behavior. 

Remember I suggested that "self-acceptance," should replace "population control," as the third ethic of permaculture? This is why: through self-acceptance, we can recognize the areas of life in which we are wrong and work to change them. Self-acceptance means looking at an area in life we are unhappy and being able to say, "this is within my control. I choose to live this way, I can choose to change."

Why do we overeat? Because we want to. Why do we overspend? Because we want to. Maybe it doesn't bring us joy, but for some reason we choose not to pursue joy. We can't change until we accept full-responsibility for our own circumstances (and those of our children!!!)

Every behavior is voluntary, even if rooted in subconscious notions. For example, codependent people seek out weak friends and associates so as to be needed. As a result, they suffer from over-work, over-commitment, and vulnerability stemming from not being able to occasionally lean on anyone else. Many people feel so vulnerable that they push everyone away so as to make anyone who loves them need to prove it. Some of us are so afraid of failure that we refuse to follow through with any truly ambitious project.

To Achieve Real Change, then, one must:

1. Identify the area of unhappiness.

2. Recognize the behavior fueling that unhappiness.

3. Identify the justification for that behavior.

4. Isolate the belief at the root of that justification.

5. Learn a new belief.

For example:

1. I am unhappy because I spend more than I earn.

2. I spend more than I earn largely because of my expensive commute.

3. My commute is expensive because I drive a long way to work, because I like my job, and I like my house, and I don't want to change either.

4. I can get neither a better house nor a better apartment, Austin is expensive, and I want to be settled.

5. My sense of security should not be tied to my job or my house. My job, good or bad, does not define me, and I deserve a home that is within comfortable distance of where I actually want to be. The time has come to meet my own needs and provide for myself, and to stop maintaining a state of poverty so as to excuse me from dealing with the big scary world of being a capable adult.

...Or something like that. 

Changes

I didn't plan to, but somehow ended up at a coffee shop on the way to the workshop. I'm scoping out my new neighborhood and failing to buy Darling's birthday presents at the same time. I don't want to talk about it. My kingdom for a copy of Dominant Species. There's a really nice bakery next to the movie theater I didn't buy the tickets at (guess who left most of her cash at home?), and I popped in for a cup of coffee, a danish, and time to sit and text friends the information for which show we'll be going to tomorrow. It's two-danishes-for-the-price-of-one day, apparantly, and the only way to get coffee in a mug is to buy the bottomless. So might as well sit for awhile.

There's a help-wanted sign in the bakery window, and I'm resisting the urge to ask about an application because I know I will get the job and I don't know if I should jump at that or not. Just a few blocks from my new home, and yes, I am considering La Re my new home, even though I've barely even started the application process and couldn't move in before October if I wanted to.

There's a lot going on in my life that makes me want to press hold, step away, and maybe scream into a pillow for a moment. Nothing is unbearable, but then, I have a high tolerance for pain of many sorts. My Mom is totally AWOL. I receive distant, garbled messages. Lost her mind, she's literally in hiding, and I can only hope she doesn't hurt anyone or show up at my place of work. Does that sound cold? I feel cold.

Things are awkward at the shop. I won't go into the details, but it keeps me on edge at all times, even the days I don't go in.

I'm very excited about a number of things, but I see the immediate future as a time of facing some painful realities I've been putting off. I'm really focusing on my principles to guide me through this choppy time, and I can clearly visualize the future that these shifts will enable me to build. I hate that in the process of being true to myself, I have to change my relationship with others.

A Series of Social Litmus Tests: The Results Are In

My focus on permaculture lately has been multi-purpose. It's of least of all use to the average reader. You guys could get a significantly better understanding of permaculture reading...well, practically anything else on the topic on the Internet.

The primary use is that, being on my mind, it's easy to write about, so I'm doing daily blog posts again. The secondary use, besides easy material, is that I can collect the posts under one heading and have a "permaculture" tab next to my "sustainable food" tab, should I ever desire to do so. I've actually thought of basing Year Eight on an entire study of permaculture with regards to finance, so it's good to have the starting material available for me to draw on.

Ultimately, however, blogging about permaculture has provided a distraction from what's going on in my daily life, which for the past several days has been about waiting. There were a few events Darling and I wanted to weather before making some serious decisions about where we are going to live and work for the next several months/years. My best friend's birthday party last Saturday, a work party Tuesday, and the La Re potluck meeting last night provided me with a much better understanding of where I want to be in Austin, and in my life.


Ambi's party was significant because it took place at Sasona, which is looking great. Darling and I checked this co-op out in 2009, and it was doing pretty well back then, but it has improved by leaps and bounds in ways I couldn't really quantify. Hell, they're doing so well they founded La Reunion, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised. It was nice to connect with some of the folks we've known for years through the co-op scene, detached from our most immediate experience, and it inspired us to be be even more serious about investigating other community options in the city.

The work party was about introducing my Darling to my coworkers and experiencing these comrades in a leisure environment. I'm really wrestling with how much I want to commit to the diner. Waitress jobs are a dime a dozen, so justifying the commute is serious business. My conclusion? Drinking with my coworkers didn't make me like them more. I do adore my job still, but I'm prepared to enjoy another job once I settle north of the river.

Finally, the La Reunion potluck. I have to admit that my hopes were not high. A cooperatively owned apartment complex seems way too good to be true on every level. I expected tiny rooms, paper-thin walls, and couldn't imagine what sort of community could have been developed in a home featuring twenty private bathrooms, personal entertainment systems, and locked front doors.

I was WRONG. So, so very wrong on every level. The founders of La Re are amazing - some of whom Darling and I already know and adore. The rooms are comfortable, private, and big. I mean, really comfortably large, embarrassingly accommodating. If Darling and I rent out a unit, we will have a den, space to the side for a dining room, a nice kitchen, our own refrigerator and stove, a hallway closet that offers more space than some closets we've had in rented apartments, central air and heat, a private bathroom, a bedroom with a walk-in closet, and a second bedroom with a closet. I mean, this is a serious amount of space. Then we would also have access to the spacious commons area, a four-bedroom apartment shared among house-mates that includes a separate, stocked kitchen, library, etc. And there's a garden in the courtyard.

In our brief time there, we experienced a community that is vibrant, giving, skilled, and revolutionary. Faced with challenges of owning property in one of the last sketchy areas of Austin and the unexpected results of buying an apartment building which already came with a number of tenants (thus realizing the communards worse nightmare: starting a co-op and ending up a landlord!), they've seriously stepped up. Running a co-op is hard, starting a co-op is practically impossible, and in the meantime dealing with serious culture clashes (one family of tenants/new members don't speak English), and a building that has previously supported at least a decade of slumlords (one fire hazard cost several thousand dollars in repairs and the furnaces are nearly eighty years old!)...all I'm saying is that these folks are serious rock stars.

So, having spent weeks thinking, "well, we'll check out La Re, but we're not going to be into it..." now I'm absolutely in love.

I finally feel ready to face the question: Now What?

Darling and I can't exactly move into La Re next week. We'll go through the application process (attending another meeting, basically), and then wait for a unit to become available. In the meantime, we need to save up the deposit and the cash to move in. Which brings us to the tricky part.

One of the events I was expecting to happen this week was a phone conversation with my Mom, who is going through a rough spot right now. I basically expect that she will be wanting the truck back very soon, which is fair, and corresponds with the fact that I really can't afford the truck at all anyway. The tricky part is working out how to afford to live without the truck.

I want to live without the truck, and have felt like a damned fool for all the time I've relied on it. I could have worked harder to put myself in a position to not need the truck, but was reacting to a number of variables that pressed car-freedom lower on my priority list than it should have been. One circumstance gave way to dozen, one compromise led to a lifestyle. I'm working to alleviate that, but in the meantime, I rely on a vehicle that is forcing me to rely on a vehicle. Putting the brakes on this cycle is going to hurt. And I have to do it by September 1st, because even if my Mom doesn't set that deadline, I need a deadline. The time has come to rip off the band aid, you know?

All said, though, the individual components of my life feel like they are finally beginning to come together, instead of pulling me apart!

The Rules of Conservative Use

Rules Of Conservative Use

• Reduce Waste
• Thoroughly Replace Lost Minerals
• Do A Careful Energy Accounting
• Make an Assessment of Long-Term, Negative, Biosocial Effects on Society, and Act To Buffer Or Eliminate These

Mollison guides of from pattern to detail. "Take responsibility" eventually breaks down to "reduce waste." The simplification was needed, and is also not so simple as it seems.

For instance, waste is not just a material concept, not in permaculture. Overwork is waste. The resources sacrificed for the sake of overworking is a waste: from the gas spent to get me to work to the time dedicated to overwork. The only reason these waste products seem immeasurable is because or society values income above all else - what can be "waste" if it produces a paycheck?

Here's where a study of Your Money or Your Life, or any other really serious expense-tracking practice, comes in: it becomes very obvious very quickly that earning money is very expensive. It is perfectly possible to reach an earning plateau, where working longer hours does not actually result in more income. This happens when we pay for training, hire babysitters or housekeepers to maintain our domestic responsibilities, send children to daycare so we can go back to work or send kids to private school because our work takes us to unsavory neighborhoods, or spend large amounts of money keeping up with coworkers in terms of lifestyle, whether it be cocktails after work every week or even constant training and certifications. Eating out because we're too tired to cook, going to the movies because we deserve it, buying an expensive wardrobe because we need it, purchasing increasingly elaborate gifts for friends and family because we just don't have the time to spend instead, and using a credit card in case of emergencies...Lifestyle choices that seem innocuous and harmless but in fact cost us at least a quarter of our total income, usually more, often the majority of our income.

That's a waste.

Thoroughly replacing lost minerals is, so far as I can tell, a basic agricultural concept. I can avoid practices that displace minerals that I can't replace, such as driving. Ultimately, though, I think he's talking about proper soil management and wildlife stewardship.

Careful energy accounting, to my mind, is so tied up with finances that it's hard to see it by any other light. This is how we recognize the waste, particularly the non-material. Careful energy accounting will reveal how much of our electricity is spent running a half-empty refrigerator or cooling a house while we're not home, how much wood we're burning in the warmer months when we could be using a solar oven, or how we can free up some time combining errands that could then be spent relaxing with the kids...that sort of thing.

Making an assessment of long-term, biosocial effects on society simply sounds needlessly complicated. I think that this is a good practice, of course, for anyone making a major change or considering a serious investment. Deciding between, say, an affordable hyrbrid car, a fully electric car, a biofuel car, or a motorcycle begs this consideration. So does the question of home-energy production, such as installing solar panels or building a wind generator. We could even consider this question when deciding how to medicate ourselves. This strikes me as a one-major-decision-at-a-time sort of ethic, one I might look at deeper in the long run, but not today.

This wraps up my understanding of Chapter One of Bill Mollison's Permaculture Design. Tomorrow I'm going to talk about the In-Between Phase, and how to get past the point where you know life needs to change, and it seems absolutely impossible, to the path to permaculture.

My Take on The Ethical Basis of Permaculture

Ethical Basis of Permaculture

Care of The Earth

Care of The People

Setting Limits to Population and Growth

"...it can be coupled to a determination to make our own way: to be neither employee nor employers, landlords nor tenants, but to be self-reliant as individuals and to cooperate as groups."

I feel that Mollison could have better summed up his ethical basis as, "cooperation with the Earth, cooperation among people, and acceptance of oneself."

The Earth does not need humans. It will outlive us. Yes, we are rapidly destroying vital systems, but they are our life support systems! That's why I say cooperate: at best, humans can work with the Earth's systems to keep ourselves alive and happy. Or we can continue to work against the planet and destroy ourselves.

I feel like cooperation with other people is self-explanatory. I recognize that "acceptance of oneself" seems like a radical shift from from "setting limits to population and growth," but hear me out:

Mollison suggests that the practice of permaculture will produce a stability which will naturally result in limited population and growth. The third ethic isn't so much about limiting human breeding but reducing the effects of the human population. Mollison is talking about ending urban sprawl, putting and end to mindless transport of people and product, and bringing and end to the era of mass produced cheap goods. Again, not simply for the sake of doing so, but because these practices will be anachronistic in a wiser, healthier world. 

On a person-by-person basis, this means setting personal limits on "population and growth." Which means learning to live life without the benefits of "growth:" roads, cans of soda, gas stations, etc. Which, to my mind, means recognizing our own needs, limitations, boundaries, capabilities, and human nature.

The average person in the western world does not know how much food she needs to live or work. Nor does she know how much work it takes to provide the amount of food she needs. Never mind the amount of space or time needed to supply these needs. As a result of this blatant mass ignorance, we have created a bored society which craves novelty. Obsession with novelty results in a disposable culture. Therefore, we become over-consumers.

Should I accept my needs, limitations, and capabilities, however, I would probably consume exactly as much as necessary to maintain my happiness. Because anything extra is overwork!

Tomorrow: Rules of Conservative Use

The Only Ethical Decision

The Prime Directive of Permaculture: The Only Ethical Decision Is To Take Responsibility For Our Own Lives and That Of Our Children.

I find Bill Mollison's phrasing interesting because "the only ethical decision" implies that there is no other ethical decision, period, that this is the beginning and end of principled thought. If you make this call, there will be no more debating between, say, living in the city or driving from the farm, or buying organic grain and going without veggies or vice versa...No, this is it for ethics, the only decision you will ever make again. 

Granted, it may be said that the "only" implies that this is an answer to a multiple choice question. As though someone were asked, is it ethical to take responsibility, or not to take responsibility? But that's overly simplistic. I think that Bill Mollison's Prime Directive is exactly that.

Dogmatic? Maybe.

The next aspect of the phrase that excites me is "our own lives." It's subversively wise. If the Only Ethical Decision I can make concerns me, only me, and my children, then I can not justify my poor behavior on acting on anyone else's behalf! It is not ethical, by this standard, to compromise because I need to pay my Mom's bills, feed Dad's addiction, pay taxes, or even maintain my marriage. First and foremost, I am responsible for myself.

Now, this is page one of a rather large textbook, which makes it a little unfair to ask how the hell we're supposed to begin applying this ethic to our own lives. But, if taken seriously, it's a threatening concept to face. What would it look like to ask myself, over and over again, throughout the day, "is this the responsible choice for myself and my children?" You know, assuming I don't live on a farm. Thankfully, Beaven already approached this with No Impact Man, so we know that day one is somewhat stressful. The poor man needs to blow his nose in the morning, and knows too well that paper tissues are not ethical. And then his baby's diaper needs changing...

Mollison, like Voltaire, stresses that we all go home and cultivate our garden. Like Atmosphere, urges us to count our blessings and mind our business. It's only challenging to the average person because the average person is emotionally entrapped in the cycles and cultural myths that got us in this mess in the first place. I worked so hard to get this job, and if I walk away I'll never be able to get it back. I'll never earn this money again, I'll never pay off my debt, I won't be able to get my teeth fixed, I'll die broke and alone and miserable. These are the thoughts that go through MY head when I ask myself what would happen if I made the Only Ethical Decision! You can't tell me I'm alone in this!

Fortunately, Mollsion doesn't launch directly into a lecture on nitrogen and recycling waste from there. Even more fortunately, teachers of permaculture like Ethan Hughes of The Possibility Alliance have the sense to teach permaculture in conjunction with non-violent communication, better equipping students to cope with the necessary emotional development needed to apply this science to their lives.

Tomorrow I'll we'll take a step further into the realm of permaculture and talk about my take on its Ethical Basis. 

In Between, Missing, and Here

I found Foxs Lane through Down to Earth.  Very pretty, and then I read this line and it brought tears to my eyes, "Are you between things, or are you missing things, or are you there?"

Yes, yes, and yes. I'm between communities, I'm between homes. I miss my superhero friends so desperately, the superhero life, the freedom, the dumpsters, the trust, the faith, and the singing. And, I'm HERE. Working at the diner feels so right, so perfectly right, that it's hard to believe that I could ever be happy anywhere else working with any other people.

...

I should also shout out to Young Girl Old Life. Go and read her Worldview. Very inspiring, something I wish I'd written myself, something I wish I had the capacity to write right now.

...

Yesterday was my best friend's birthday party, and I got the dates mixed up and ended up having to work. Then I got timing weird and I ended up fifteen minutes late, changing in a rapid flurry from a short flouncy skirt and sexy vest and heels into my jeans, t-shirt, and apron...any way, that's how my little notebook for tracking money might have ended up in my apron, and might have ended up forgotten - lost forever - at work. It didn't, thank goodness. But there was a ten minute period this morning during which I couldn't find my records, and could remember finding an "extra" notebook in my pocket and setting it aside during a busy period of the night. That would have been so terrible. All my records, eighteen days into August, just gone and absolutely irretrievable. What would I have done? That's where I'm at in my life right  now, the idea of not having a record of my spending is just nightmarish.

I left Darling at the party when I left for work, hoping to be back for him around 4 a.m. Instead, the sun was up and my phone was dead by the time I made my way back to Ambi's cooperative home. Thankfully I was just in time to catch a couple of friends on just about to take him home. It was amazing how many people we knew from this party. It was a combination of friends from high school and people who lived at that particular co-op, two of whom were recommended to it by myself and Darling. Darling has also worked professionally with two of the members. It revealed an unexpected continuity to my life. It was nice.

 And wouldn't you know there were a couple of people who live at La Re, the cooperative apartment complex Darling and I are planning to visit on Wednesday? I wasn't so brash as to ask if they had any units open (I know they have rooms, but Darling and I want a two-bedroom space to ourselves), but I did talk composting with the groundskeeper. Excited to meet other members in just a few days!

One of Those Days/Weeks.../Months

I put off doing my monthly tabulations forever this month, only completing them yesterday. And I can see why. The numbers told I story I would like to entitle "How I Don't Want To Live My Life."

Okay, truth be told, there was some definite recreation. I got my tattoo, attended a show, entertained my  brother visiting from out of state, and provided two friends and my Mom with birthday cakes. That's some pretty elaborate entertainment spending on my part. But the majority of my money went to the commute, gas, and truck maintenance. None of it went to debt or really  maintaining the humans.

So I was feeling really down about my job when I arrived yesterday, but still grateful to be off to be better start than the night before. At least my socks weren't wet, you know? And within half an hour of being there I dropped the most massive tray of food ever straight into the laps of an innocent family, humiliating myself and damn near harming one of them.

And humiliating myself.

Did I mention I was humiliated?

Painfully, I still love my job. It's as though my heart is being specifically, violently contradictory. I like my coworkers so much that it hurts to imagine not seeing them any more, not seeing them on the daily. Especially now that the co-op thing is working...but because the co-op thing isn't working, the job isn't really sustainable. Especially if I develop the habit of slinging lasagna dinners everywhere.

The 30-Mile Commute

The Leander metro station is in the boonies. I hadn't really realized how far out Darling and I have been living until I drove three miles north and saw how suddenly suburbia gives way to field and pasture. This is the same station we used to get within bike-riding distance of the camping site Darling and I stayed at for my birthday a couple of years back.

Still, for $5.50 I purchased a twenty-four hour pass to get to town and back in the morning. My plan was to get into town a few hours early (my shift started at 11 pm), have plenty of time to work out any issues (I can get lost anywhere at any time),  and spend some time at my favorite 24-hour coffee shop before heading in.

It being August in Texas, it didn't occur to me to pack a jacket or wear my pair of wellingtons (purchased, for $3, at a Goodwill in Detroit on a whim, basically kept me alive the two weeks we spent in Missouri camping in below-freezing temperatures. One of the best investments of my life). Nope. Thoughts of rain didn't seriously cross my mind until the cloudburst. It poured. It took me about two minutes to get from the bus to my workplace, and by then I was completely, 100% drenched to the bone. Soaking wet, two hours early, and pissed.

Thankfully, my coworkers are the bomb. Someone nabbed me a pair of shoes from her car, someone else just about frog-marched me to the bathroom and forced me to dry my socks using the hot air of the hand-dryer. So I smelled like hot wet socks for the rest of the night, but eventually I wasn't shaking with cold.

Weather mishaps aside, it was fantastic not to be tied to the truck for the night. I left work later than usual and missed the train back home, but was able to catch a bus back easily enough. I slept on the way home. I saved at least $5. It made me sad to climb back into the truck to get to work today. 

Back On The Horse

Today I'm going to take the bus to work.

It seemed pretty phenomenal until I sat down and typed it, and quite mundane now on the computer screen. I live thirty miles away from the diner, which is hardly a comfortable bike ride, and the gas is just killer. Taking the bus is going to add an hour to my commute, but two hours of reading-and-relaxing-and-probably-sleeping to my day. Frankly, I could do with a couple of hours of downtime before and after work. It will be a major relief after months of traffic.

Today I'm going to drive to the station because deciding to take the bus was such a big deal I couldn't bring myself to also decide to ride my bike the three miles to the bus station. Tomorrow I'm going to drive to work because the train won't bring me back home on Saturday morning, but I'll go ahead and work in the shop on Saturday morning and get some work done. Then at least I'll squeeze in two shifts for the cost of one commute.

This is the way I have to start thinking, because I am just so over myself right now it's not even funny. Not moving back to central Austin is just such a blow. On the one hand it's great that Darling and I are talking about how we want to go ahead and live our lives, and we have a lot of fantastic opportunities on the horizon. That cooperative apartment complex is still an exciting option, we're going to check out their potluck meeting next Wednesday. That would at least put us back in Austin city limits and within the bounds of weekend bus service. We also have some ideas for service work we want to provide to that particular area of town. Oh, and it's basically within walking distance of my brother, sister, niece, and niece-to-be.

On the other hand, Darling and I also have the potential to really step into the role of suburban renters/farmers. We have a huge productive yard and permission to permaculture it however we want. I have dreams of a garden, outdoor space, rustic woodworking area. Small livestock is even an option, and outdoor laundry. The thing is, I don't know how much energy I have to dedicate to such projects when I'm working four days a week at a job thirty miles from my house and four days a week at a workshop forty-five miles from my house. Throw in the four hour daily commute to get to and from town via bus and train, and we have some time-space issues to contend with. And we're just renting, practically just house-sitting...The space probably won't ever feel like "ours." I'd have to leave the job I actually really like and take a job closer to home...It would be a big decision.

So...I'm riding the bus today and I'm going to a potluck on Wednesday. That is my plan. Tomorrow there will be more plan.

Facing The Tower

In high school I was invited to a weekly "dream discussion" group led by my counselor and a real-life psychologist who specialized in dream interpretation. To this day I have no idea what on Earth motivated a school administrator and a doctor who typically got paid $200/hour to talk symbolism with five sixteen-year-olds week after week, but it did supply me with a surprisingly valuable skill set.

Yesterday evening I had a conversation that made me very uncomfortable about my future as an artisan. I"m pretty sure that's the conversation my psyche was chewing on when it produced the following set of images and emotions: last night I dreamed an artist tattooed The Tower on the bottom of my left foot while I slept. When I awoke I noted an unusual depiction of the Tarot image. The Tower typically features a chaotic scene: angels and demons falling from the windows, flames consuming the building, and lightning striking the uppermost peak. On my version of the tower, however, all seemed well and a parade of people - pilgrims - hiked up the sandy base of the tower to climb to the top. The Tower, pre-lightning, tattooed on my foot while I slept. I walked away with a painful limp.

Darling and I analyzed the dream and concluded that the pre-lightning tower represents the ego at its worse, because the normal version of the card illustrates the enlightenment that comes when the ego is overthrown and the self forced to deal with reality - I also woke up thinking of something I learned at the permaculture course, "Conflict is what happens when our perceptions don't match up with reality -" the tower symbolizes that conflict. Having a pre-lightning tower tattooed on my foot indicates, to me, that I've been asleep at the proverbial wheel and letting my ego guide my life. My personal ego happens to go with the flow and follow the crowd. I think this has served me well in a number of ways for the past twelve months, but I've been waking up to my own responsibilities and felt compelled to withdraw from group-think and creating a more sustainable life for my husband and myself.

So in the dream I wake up and walk away, "standing on my own two feet," for the first time in a good while, so to speak. But it hurts, because of the past I've left behind (left foot), and will always carry with me.

So, basically Darling and I had a goodly long conversation this morning about the importance of our bid for personal freedom, privacy, and sustainability. We talked about following our own dreams rather than focusing on others' dreams and creating a life that will support us and our own needs. "But," Darling interjected more than once, "the co-op introduces another style of group think, and isn't exactly moving forward."

"No, that doesn't apply, because..." One justification reason after another, why the concepts in my dream applied to everything in our lives besides the co-op. Darling accepted my explanations, it was my dream after all.

And then we checked our e-mail and learned that, due to complications regarding room availability, we won't be moving back into the co-op.

At which point lightning struck. And I realized just how painful it will be to stand on my own two feet.

Facing Fears

Lately I feel like a woman constructed out of echoes. Ever since our one year anniversary of leaving Austin, I have been fixated on where Darling and I were 365 days ago. Every day, at least once, I think something along the lines of, "today we rode out on our first adventure. The superheroes all traveled our first five miles together to a farm and weeded, cleared paths, and did a little landscaping. During lunch we lay in the shade and Earthly gave me the most amazing massage while Darling, Sun, and Wolf played their instruments and sang bluegrass. The farmer's wife gave us cookies, the first sugar we'd had in what felt like ages, even though it had just been a couple of days..."

In 2011 I quit a job out of anger and frustration and decided not to immediately hunt for another. It was the first time I seriously faced my terrible fear of unemployment. After some time as a carpenter, and then working part-time at a non-profit, my husband and I decided to face deeper fears. We gave up most of our possessions and spent the next six months with neither income nor shelter - and largely in what is arguably the most depressed area of the country. 

I honestly know what it means to be homeless, and it turns out Darling and I are amazingly good at being homeless. On the flipside, Darling and I are good at being homeless because it's completely voluntary, and we aren't the sort to realistically find ourselves in that situation otherwise! So I don't have that fear any more mostly because that fear doesn't make any sense to have.


Freed of my anxieties regarding unemployment, I find myself facing what now seem more insidious demons. When I came back to Texas, my Dad was in the hospital, my sister pregnant, my brother recently disabled, and my Mom facing a massive financial emergency. So when I wrapped up my temporary job (set up from out of state to last about a month while I "visited" Austin), I decided to get a better paying job, pick up an artisan apprenticeship, and stick around to "save" my family. Because I'm stupid afraid.

I let fear complicate my life. The fear of...what? That every member of my family was just completely incapable of functioning without my immediate presence? That's childish and immature. But I struggle with that perception so terribly, to the point that it feels like addiction. Outgrowing that fear is making me a different person.

Bizarrely, I'm hoping this different person is like a younger, more idealist (or possibly more idealized) version of myself from earlier blog posts. I hope to move back to the co-op, get back into the kitchen, get the truck the hell out of my life, and get my finances back on track. I hope, above all, to simplify. Limit travel to where I can get by bike and bus, limit my spending to rent and debt and health, and spend my time perfecting my craft, earning money, and relaxing with friends. Maybe I'm finally brave enough to make those choices!

It Starts

Is it beginning again? Just days after the last payment, I slip home just before seven in the morning, pockets fat with the nights tips (crumpled ones, mostly, I assure you. Not even a twenty to round things out, but whatevs...), and I think, "this afternoon I will go to the bank."

And then I think, "Should I put money into savings, or debt payment?"

And then I think, "I could make a debt payment right now."

I turn on the computer and think , "Twenty dollars is a nice round number. Of course, Fifty is nicer and rounder. If I put in Sixty, I'll finally dip below the $1600 mark. I've only been waiting to do that for twelve months now. I'll pay sixty!"

Fortunately, I check my bank balance and acknowledge that it's got to be twenty. Darling and I are behind this month. I know, it's only the ninth, and we're behind. We need to put down a deposit on our room, you know, and save up rent for the co-op at the start of September. It had to be $20, this morning, less than a week after my last payment.

But, you know, there's always tomorrow morning. And I'm only about $40 away from dipping below the $1600 mark!

Paying Again

In the early part of Economy, Thoureau gives a shout out to his indebted neighbors "stealing" an hour from their creditors in the very act of reading his work. That's how I've felt, to varying degrees of intensity, since 2005. So long as I'm in debt, I'm living on borrowed time, and any moment not spent correcting that state is done so illicitly.

Which is a somewhat neurotic way of life when you're young, broke, and have more obligations than resources. Being a natural-born extremist doesn't help me out much, either. I'm either completely, 100% obsessed with earning my freedom, or so burned out I would rather sleep outside than even think about paying rent - much less student loans. Even if they're very nearly practically gone.

This should be a post about balance, and I can't write it yet. I'm not there, I'm not anywhere close, I have no experience in this area. And I probably won't until the debt is gone, which is a damn shame, because I believe consistency, any sort of stability at all, would have served me far better than the countless double shifts and sleepless nights and experimentation. But then, I staged this as an experiment from the beginning, didn't I?

Today I feel good for making a debt payment. An extremely modest debt payment, because I'm still saving for this month's rent, but if I were to repeat it weekly I'd be debt free by the end of the year. Considering my last payment was for eleven dollars, in April, this represents progress.

...

Speaking of progress, Darling and I only need to meet with one more person to confirm that we're moving home to the central Austin co-op in September. That will save us over $300 a month in basic living expenses (mostly gas) and put me within a five-minute bike ride of work. Which is so amazing that it makes living in the suburbs for the next four weeks seem absolutely absurd. We left exactly one year ago tomorrow, and have been through so much these past twelve months it's hard to wrap my head round. We said, so many times, "let's not go back under any circumstances," but now I just can't stand to keep away!

August 2013 Net Worth

I can't believe it's already August. Is that just completely cliche to say in the over-bearing heat of the Texas Summer? When was springtime? What happened to strawberry season? I spent it on the highways, in the truck, cutting my teeth at yet another waiting job and working my fingers to the bone in the workshop. This was the year of the 48-hour workdays and the longest, deepest sleeps. This is the year of weak beer and instant coffee, deep books (why, hello, Dostoevsky) and hip-hop (why, hello, Macklemore).

Oh man, have I mentioned that I just absolutely super dig The Heist?

July. My elder brother came to visit from Ohio, so there was quite a bit of family drama one week. The next week Darling and I spent some time at my Mom's house for her birthday. There was quite a bit of surplus spending, mostly in the form of gas. Did I mention spending a LOT Of time on the road lately? And then the other weird sort of financial side-effects of overwork, like not finding the time to go grocery shopping but managing to spend thirty dollars on junk food when friends came over.

There was personal spending, too, much more than usual. A really nice new pair of boots for Darling, a really great new outfit for myself ($30 at Goodwill, including shoes, top, vest, and skirt), and a tattoo...my first in over a decade. Everything seeming right at that precise moment, everything wanted (in the case of the boots, needed), and at the same time somehow superfluous and silly. A tattoo, for goodness sake.

So my net worth is not what it could be, and I'm more than responsible for that fact. I can't complain about filling up that gas-guzzling truck at least twice a week when I'm shopping so casually as I have this past month. Call it a belated birthday gift, if you like.

I'll be cracking down in August. Not only do we have to cover rent here in the Suburbs, but we need to save up to move into the co-op at the start of September. I am so excited about that! We spent some time there yesterday with that goal in mind and afterward I asked Darling, "are we moving backward?"

"No, it's more like making a correction...not to an error, exactly, but definitely sliding back into our rightful place."

That's exactly how I feel. Back in central Austin we can do without the truck. Getting to the workshop will be much easier. Life will be so much more affordable!

Current Net Worth: -$1,043.68. And growing.