Friday late afternoon through Sunday late morning, I drove from Bloomington 55 minutes east on North State Road 67 to Sage Valley, a 17-acre eco-village and nature school for children that lies a few miles past tiny Freedom, Indiana and on the way to Worthington, Indiana.
I had been personally invited, a few weeks ago, by a three-person delegation that had made an appointment, both to tour Green Acres Village and to invite me to the second annual “Intention Convention.” The purpose of this convention? To gather leaders of intentional communities in southern Indiana and beyond, both established and forming, in order to network, participate in serious discussions on various topics relating to community living, and generally, just to get to know each other, have fun, hang out. Or, as I might say now, to see what our synergy might inject into the world.
These ambassadors were all women: one of them the founder of Sage Valley (and owner of the land; she’s trying to figure out what kind of “trust” to set up; I can’t remember her name!); another is Danielle West, of Lothlorian, who leads the networking effort to get us all to connect: and a third whose name I also can’t remember, but who has a very mischievous spirit, lives in Bloomington and is coming to our next Community Dinner, this coming Thursday. She tells me she moved to Indiana in the late 1990s, traveling in a giant tricked out school bus: “One of the fondest memories of my life!”
I found myself intrigued. A few days later, I emailed “moon pie” (Danielle West), the organizer: Okay. I’m in. My response excited her no end. Next, a few days prior to the event itself I asked her to see if I could be given a room with a bed, rather than having to camp out myself. (Despite my visions of a tiny, dusty cabin overrun by spiders and mice . . .) Plus, just in case that didn’t work out, I also asked Marita (who lives next door) to clean out the car so I could car camp, if necessary). It turns out that a lot of folks did this, car camped. Though others did bring tents. And the eight people who have lived there for various lengths of time, plus an even larger number of children (10 if you count the two teenagers), also had camps of various kinds. One a very long bus, which is being tricked out by its occupants (a couple and their four kids).
Here are some pics of the place, the often quirky structures involved. They include a 20-foot Mongolian yurt, used as a nature school. Off to the right of this photo is a greenhouse/laundry/shower house, still being built. Way back behind the playhouse on the left is a very functional human composting station that, unfortunately, takes a while to walk to in the middle of the night. Luckily, the light on my phone was working.
The kitchen, recently renovated.
Both evenings, we sat around roaring, expertly constructed and managed, fires in the giantic fire pit, one of the most important community gathering places.
The land itself is very southern Indiana: woodlands, with prairies, featuring native perennials. Beautiful. Crisscrossing trails, plus a wooded hill behind.
Note here: the composting toilet area on the left.
Lots of little spaces within the larger one makes the place feel much larger than 17 acres.
Here’s the kids’ play area. And believe me, they do!
The structures and camps made the place resemble a survivalist outpost, you might say, with all sorts of projects ongoing (bathhouse and greenhouse, etc.), that depend on occupants, visitors, go fund me’s, and small grants (none from the federal or state government) to complete.
Only one place where one could charge one’s phone, and it’s in the kitchen; their Starlink has not yet been completely set up, with residents and regular visitors arguing which to get, the smaller, very limited $50 month band with, or the “unlimited” band with for $250/month. Hmmm.
I would have been down for the $50/month charge. In fact, because I was offline all three days, I could finally relax. THIS INTERNET ADDICTION is probably the strongest one we (and certainly I) have.
When I arrived, someone immediately came out with a wheelbarrow, to bring my stuff to my cabin. Great!
All in all, I could tell immediately, just from the vibe: My kind of place!
You think I’m kidding?
Here’s the cabin with bed they had cleaned and made ready, just for me:
Looking in . . . BTW: that’s a very steep angled roof behind the bed; I had to get used to not getting head or knees banged.
I loved it! I was also glad I had not brought my dog (pets are allowed), because I would have had to haul Scampi up to the bed and out from it with me, a decidedly tricky operation, at any age.
At the time I asked for a room with a bed, I thought it was because I was “too old” to camp, and played the age card. But now I realize my request was because I didn’t want to root around in the basement here, amongst all the camping gear for various kinds, some mine from the deep past, some from others who have lived here over the years. Didn’t want to take the time to find out if there actually is a viable tent down there.
But if I go next year, which will be at Lothlorien, I will bring a tent. No big deal.
One of the things that most thrilled me about Sage Valley is the relationship between children and adults, both their parents and others. These are free children, very independent, creative, and easily arising to tasks, when given. For example, one young one was chopping potatoes for the first evening’s soup, and boy was he expert! He was standing at the chopping board with two other kids, all of them chopping vegetables. When I walked in, asking if I could help, they all immediately treated me like an equal, not like an authority figure. I loved that! “Knives are over there”; “here’s leeks to chop.” And so on.
Here’s a photo of one of them. I asked to take his picture. See the look in his eye? He’s very comfortable in his own skin. Both friendly, and feral. Notice his wonderful filthy little feet.
Here’s a photo of three kids whom I had asked to pose while we were all watching a cobweb and its spider. I had noticed the web earlier and asked them to come see it with me. (Notice composting toilet area in background.)
Then they pointed out to me all the other spider webs with spiders in them within only feet of the one I had noticed!
Speaking of spiders and their webs: this morning I was chopping vegetables for a thick soup, and thinking back to when the kids showed me the spider webs, when a tiny spider spun his way down a single thread from above, to not six inches from my face! WOW!
I got a paper towel and carefully folded him in and carried him to the back porch.
There’s lots to say about this event, and I’m not sure how much more I will do that in this blog. But who knows? Here’s two stories, both from very authentically heart-centered adults who were present, both of them telling me stories of how they kicked their terrible addictions.
The first was a man who suddenly kicked, not just alcohol, but many other drugs after many decades. How? “By going down the Wabash for five days.” He told me this as we were both sitting around the fire at 4 AM. (I had gotten up to go to the outhouse, and came back to sit with him for an hour.)
Another was a total alcoholic ($600 a month!), and that included 12 beers during the day, plus half a tequila bottle in the evenings. He works remotely, is very good at what he does, but feels incredibly lonely. He kicked his habit shortly after his girl friend of eight years suddenly left him (and this was just after he had bought a ring and was planning to propose to her). Two days later, he stopped, cold turkey. That was only weeks ago. Ever since, whenever his newly sober state threatens to overwhelm with painful memories, he heads out walking, miles upon miles each day.
I asked, “And do you journal?”
“OH YES!”
That encounter occurred just prior to my leaving, when I was loading up my car and saw him coming towards me. He called me Ann. I called him Josh. For both of us, those were the only names we were certain we remembered! He had taken up my suggestion to the group that everybody get a copy of Alexander Hudson’s Soul of Civility, said he had just ordered it.
I had read recently that addiction in all its forms is the result of our very human longing to connect. That the opposite of addiction is connection. And I remember back to what I consider the deepest early childhood origins of my own addiction to cigarettes (which I managed to let go of in my late 30s):
The day came when my Dad had to suddenly uproot himself from our little family (Mom, me, and one on the way) to serve abroad in World War II. Of course Mom was terrified that he might never come home. So much so, her milk dried up. Instead of at least switching me to a bottle, she was convinced her to wean me to a cup. The original primordial connection between mother and child, rudely interrupted, at nine months old.
That original primordial connection that, no matter how individualistic we are, or perhaps because individualism is our national religion, we cannot help but long for, its polar opposite, that which holds it in dynamic balance: connection, all our lives. Most of us pick up at least one substance addiction along the way, and way too few of us realize its deep origins in early childhood.
The subject of addiction also came up during our serious camp-wide discussion sessions.
(And: I saw lots of folks there smoking cigarettes while out of the main camping area!)
Alcohol was forbidden in this family and child-centered place. As were drugs. Luckily, they had nipped that in the bud a few years ago, when they shut down the “party camp” high on the hill in the woods.
And, especially with children present, going to excess with any substance is never a good idea.
Sage Valley is dedicated to children and families, with both a nature school, and an ethos that promotes equal relationships among children and adults, with adults serving as mentors, when asked. And with adults always taking children’s questions seriously. Stopping whatever they are doing to speak with them, to listen to them, to connect.
I saw this numerous times while there. I never did see an adult brush aside a child’s needs.
On Saturday, a child came up to me. Can’t remember his name. Caleb, I think it was. He just went right to it. Asked, “what is your name?” Then continued with his questions, all having to do with music. Told me he was a guitar player. I had heard this about him, and knew he was serious. Apparently he had been told that I was the oldest person in the camp, and so he asked this elder (and they all, adults and children, treated me this way, with utmost respect and care; I guess word got around that I was 82 years old): “Did you ever go see a Beatles concert?” Unfortunately, I had to tell him “No, but I did see their first television appearance, I think it was on the Ed Sullivan show.” I asked how old he is. “Twelve.” “Oh, then you’re just starting a new 12 year Jupiter cycle of opportunity! I bet it will expand your love of and ability to play and perform music!” He liked that idea. Then he asked me, “How about Elvis?” Ahh . . . Elvis. I told him my friend Mary and I, when we were in 9th grade, went to see his movie, Love me Tender, at the Orpheum theater, bringing both our lunch and dinner with us, because we wanted to stay for all three showings of the movie. Elvis was that important to us.
On and on. Typical conversation with a free child at Sage Valley, who then, by the way, went on to play softly and expertly during our gigantic camp fire that evening.
I also had a number of very serious private conversations with adult men, and weirdly enough, all but one were between the ages of 28 and 31 or 56 and 60. In other words, all were undergoing Saturn Returns! No wonder this event felt pivotal for them! I found myself talking astrology over the weekend, always just in one to one conversations, the two of us stopping somewhere on some path, or near one of the very temporary looking structures on the 17-acre grounds.
And watch out for the near-blind feral pig!
Daniele West, on facebook, has put up wonderful photos of the event, much more centered on people in groups than my own photos. For me, the focus was mostly one to one conversations without camera involved, and walks in nature, usually alone. So to get more of the full flavor of the the actual event and its people, I suggest these fb posts:
https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?vanity=danielle.west.142&set=a.25203009052624576
https://www.facebook.com/groups/CCCIntentionalCommunities/posts/2744306815773612/
BTW: The other really interesting conversation, was with a man who is 38, and so in his Uranus opposition! Speaking with him, I realized that he is an exceptionally brilliant and eccentric human being, who has been shocking both himself and those around him with his extreme hunger for knowledge since he was born. He’s even familiar with Walter Russell! — read his works as a teenager! I said he probably had Uranus on the Ascendant, he was so electric (and of course, always with the problem of fitting into society). He pulled his phone out of his pocket so I could look. He has his chart on his phone! And yes: Uranus exactly on the Ascendant, along with Saturn, in Sagittarius. Born during that conjunction. Born to share that with the world via his own highly electric personality.
And wouldn’t you know: that conjunction in his chart is exactly conjunct my own Sun, at 27° Sagittarius. At this point I leaned in and said: “27° Sagittarius is exactly conjunct the Galactic Center!”
Aha! No wonder both his chart, his life, and our connection.
I have been cleaning out my basement, and came across four Terrence McKenna tapes, wondered who I would give them to.
I asked: Do you know Terrence McKenna? Of course! He loves the man.
Now I know who to send them to. But damn, I don’t have his address! Will have to ask Danielle.
