Hippie Archeology

I’ve held my ground on this steep slope for fourteen years. This land’s been communal since 1965. And as runoff washes into our stream at the bottom, I’ve learned that the soil of this hill gives up the secrets of the residents who came before me: These hippies were freakin’ LITTERBUGS!!! Were they too stoned to carry a can up to the road on trash day? I mean, please!

For my first six years at Heathcote I lived in the springhouse (below), an idyllic stone hut on the stream, built into the hillside, over a natural spring. I was always finding new pieces of broken glass emerging like prima donna dinosaur bones out of the dirt. I never got ahead of the curve. More glass or metal coils or nails were always appearing out of the subtle erosion.

When I moved to Hina Hanta (below), my current cabin high above the mill, there were new and varied things to excavate. This cabin, formerly called Hillhouse, was built in 1972. Various families and singles have occupied it since then, including a professional environmental activist who lived here fourteen years himself. The building is not quite at the top of the slope, so erosion does uncover what composting leaf litter tries to conceal.

Coming up from the ground I get endless plastic seed pots and plastic sheeting and carpet pieces. Heathcoters used to garden a terraced plot where I now have a goat pen, before the woods grew in too thickly for crops. But much of the carpet isn’t from gardening. It’s just heaped in the woods, feet from the cabin. And it doesn’t compost quickly.

I’d always picked up little bits of plastic containers I’d find or lengths of wire or cord. But recently, while waiting for fencing helpers to arrive, I went walking in my woods with a workday energy. I was stunned to find bags of trash, laid out in the woods. They’d clearly been there many years. I’ve lived here eight and I didn’t put them there! The piles were low to the ground and the plastic on top had degraded, so each collection appeared to be laid out on a sheet of plastic that was, I guess, the bottom of the bag. Inside, no identifying papers to name any guilty parties. They could have already degraded. But what remained? Lots and lots of athletic shoes, actually in decent shape; plastic and metal food containers; many bug spray cans and motor oil jugs; a briefcase; a two-burner hotplate; stove parts; a bathroom scale; small electrical appliances and extension cords; building materials; clothes and linens; window panes; a tea kettle; pots and pans; a lawn chair.

I don’t keep new plastic bags just for carrying trash, so I reused bags from my wood pellets. I’d give you a count on the number of bagfuls the woods was holding but the work isn’t close to finished. Let’s call it ten and counting.

After the moral outrage, I was overtaken with curiosity. I became a detective working the scene. Who walked their trash out, one-hundred feet from the cabin and abandoned it? Did they come from the cabin, or did they trek it through the woods from the neighboring farm? Surely they weren’t Heathcoters! Some of the food containers were for meat items. I would like to believe that this proves the innocence of my vegetarian community. But if they could dump trash and not get busted by the hippie police, then they could sneak meat. Maybe that’s why they diverted their trash to the woods–They wanted to hide their carnivorous indiscretions! Oh, this is getting juicy!

Now, I’m not just a suburban chick gone feral in the woods. Actually, okay, I’m exactly that. But my point is, I know the history of trash. Generations of my family burned trash or dumped it in the endless limestone sinkholes on our Kentucky dairy farm. The practice continues with current generations. I remember my cousin knocking on my mother’s door: “Have you got any noxious substances you want to throw out? I’m heading to the sinkhole…” Much to the hypocritical dismay of my grandparents, people were always dumping pickup truck loads of trash, furniture, tires, chemical drums and anything else in the woods of our farm, which hugs a long stretch of little traveled country road. There’s even a car, maybe a 1930’s model, that someone drove up into our woods and abandoned. I used to play in it, ala Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.

Still, I want to believe that, since 1965, Heathcote’s particular chunk of our beautiful Gaia, our bountiful Turtle Island, was held differently by the tribe that settled here. And I’m annoyed that former residents may have left a mess I’m now having to live with or clean up. Quite a microcosm of the planetary issues we face, isn’t it? A previous generation’s expediency becomes our burden, even in Hippieland.

Not all trash at Heathcote is annoying. When we renovated the mill, we found bottles, dishes, etc., that may date back one-hundred fifty years. That was awe inspiring. But I don’t want to leave this trash in the woods long enough to become exciting archeology.

Anyone for a feel-good workday in the woods? Maybe we’ll find the clue that will close the case of the hippie litterbugs! I’ll supply the pellet bags…

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From Wren:

I’ve had the pleasure of attending an evening introduction to Heart of Now, a weekend workshop in “being who we want to be in the world,” that was developed at Lost Valley Community. I had previously experienced some of the exercises as part of ZEGG Forum facilitator training, held at my home, Heathcote Community. Besides giving me food for thought and tools for my self work, Heart of Now is a wonderful opportunity to meet new people, make close friends and become a more grounded, honest, loving soul in the world.

As of this writing, there are 5 spaces remaining!

Here is HON trainer Debby Sugarman’s announcement:

Registration is now open for the DC area Heart of Now weekend course!…

I am happy to announce that the second DC area Heart of Now workshop will be held the weekend of November 21-23, 2008 in a beautiful location just outside Winchester, VA.

After many wonderful introductions, triad practice groups and triad assistant trainings over the last 2 years, I am excited to be offering a full workshop once again this area!

What is Heart of Now?

Heart of Now is about being who we want to be in the world. Throughout our lives many of us have been encouraged to hide our feelings and ignore our bodies. Were taught stories of how were supposed to behave at school or work. We’ve been told not to make mistakes or certainly not to admit it.

At Heart of Now we look with curiosity at the stories we’ve been told. We pay careful attention to our bodies and our emotions. We learn to listen to ourselves deeply and trust what is in our hearts.

Heart of Now is not just about ourselves but about our communities and our world. When we are present and honest with ourselves, we open space for intimacy, easy working relationships and creativity that are the building blocks for creating a better world.

Time: The course will begin on Friday evening, November 21, and will go until Sunday evening, November 23.

Location: Our location is The Land Celebration, a beautiful retreat center in Gore, VA, just outside of Winchester, VA. Visit www.thelandcelebration.org.

Cost: The cost is $350-$650 sliding scale. A fee of $200 is requested when you register, the rest of the fee will be due by the end of the course. Financial assistance is available. Please inquire about this if the fee is a barrier to being able to join us for the weekend. The cost will include lodging for 2 nights and all vegetarian meals.

Assisting: If you have previously been through a Heart of Now weekend (previously called Naka-Ima), you are invited to assist the course. Assisting is as much about continuing your own growth as it is about service to the students. Assistants of any level of experience are welcome. Assistants are asked to make a donation of $75-$125 sliding scale to cover room and board. The assistants’ program starts on Friday afternoon. Contact Debby if you are interested.

To Register: Our website, www.heartofnowdc.org is under construction but will be coming soon! In the meatime you can register by contacting Debby Sugarman at 716-479-1490, dsugarm@efn.org or Darrell at 202-667-8728, d@duane.com. For more information about Heart of Now, call us or visit www.heartofnow.org.

I just received the news of the conclusion of a case I’d found disturbing before. Intentional Communities are highly peaceful places, overall. So the fact that this shooting happened jarred me when I first heard about it.

I have mixed feelings about the verdict; I don’t have all the facts myself and wasn’t on the jury, but I have an uneasy feeling that justice may not have been served.

Given the way New York Times reporter James Barron seems to have stereotypes/biases about “communes,” I wonder if the jury was fed inflammatory myths that may have hurt the case.

I was particularly miffed at the Barron’s lead about New York’s only “commune” and his comment that Ganas Community resists being called a “cult.” I’ll update this post later about the differences between Intentional Communities and cults. in the meantime, please read the article.

Barron also salaciously wrote about “wife swapping” at Ganas but made no attempt to confirm that with statements by members. And he made no attempt to write the actual mission of Ganas. But that wouldn’t have been as exciting..

I’m busy with fairs now but I’ll try to profile Ganas and their exciting work in group process later. In the meantime you can visit their site for yourself, ganas.org.

A rose by any other name might remind some people of a pickle. Whether it’s a person, a house or the street on which they stand, a name is an opportunity to make a statement. Maybe it’s the screenwriter in me, but I think names are important symbols. I have a reputation for anthropomorphically naming everything in sight. Take cars, for example. My car is The Blue Goose. The one before that was Portia Fay. Before that, Scooby-Doo Subaru. Just as people with green thumbs talk to houseplants, I find that my car runs better if I talk to it and call it by name. And it tells me much about a person when she or he has named a car. I have used it as a litmus test in more than one relationship.
Someone said people make big money coming up with the actual model names of cars. Whoever named my Blue Goose “Honda CRV” should be washing cars instead. I should have that job, or one naming paint colors–native organic periwinkle, sagebrush compost–I could so do that job. Busstop bench maple…food co-op bubblegum…global warming sunrise…

Truthfully I connect deeply with the tribal idea that the names of people should have meaning and evolve or change with us through our stages of life. Of course, my moniker here is a midlife invention:

Wren [ren]: a small, unassuming bird with a loud song

Mika [mee-kuh: the wise little raccoon

Tuatha [2-ah-thuh: tribe, children of, people of; new meaning: she who is followed by goats

Clearly I’m guided by my love and identification with animals. My own pets are saddled with the names Tuatha, Echo, Wicca and Niabi. In case you’re worried, I would not do that to a human child. I just appreciate the opportunity to make meaning. Wouldn’t it be great to be known as, “flower planter,” or “she who brings the best dishes to potlucks?” Before I changed it, my legal name meant, “she who’s name is a list of her mother’s ex’s.” Oh joy.

Anyway, my obsession with the sounds and meanings of names is passionate and long lived. I’ve had a library of baby name books from various cultures for nearly thirty years. Even as a kiddie poet in school, I tried on a succession of pennames, each with it’s own accompanying persona. The most famous one among my family is “Phoenix.” I have no memory of why I wanted to be called Phoenix, but it is legend.
When I was three, I was adopted by my stepfather and my last name changed to his. My mother tried to explain the change to me and made the mistake of asking what I’d like my name to be. The story goes that I replied, “If it’s all the same to you, Mother, I’d like Theresa!”

Now when I begin a script I spend days pouring through my baby name books and online resources to pick a weighty and meaningful, if pretentious name. Wren Mika started out as a character in a script. Others I’ve labored over include Persia, Cricket, Nia, Simone and Caprice. There may be a recovery program somewhere but I’m unrepentant.

So when I moved to Heathcote, my Intentional Community, and the buildings had such generic designations as the mill, greenhouse, carriage house, springhouse, cabin, farmhouse, hillhouse, I had to take leadership. If not

ThresaSheWho’sNameIsAListOfHerMother’sEx’sPhoenixWrenMikaTuatha

then who?
I moved into a cabin long called the hillhouse. Blah. After days of scouring the internet and keeping pages of scribbled lists I chose Hina Hanta, Choctaw for “path of peace,” and the chosen name of a Choctaw scholar whose article about the vegetarian history of American Indians I’ve posted previously on this blog. I proposed to Heathcoters that my home be renamed Hina Hanta and that the residents of each building make intentional choices reflecting what they intend to communicate when they utter the collection of sounds that designate their homes. “Cluttered but contented.” “Place of perpetual pie.” “Homestead too near the skunk den to have a dog.” “Warmth and rest in beloved arms.”
One home already had the thoughtful name Shanti, meaning “peace.” The new straw bale grouphouse got christened Polaris–”north star.” Most have stayed their plain jane names–mill, farmhouse, greenhouse, etc. An income sharing subset of Heathcoters called their group shantagani, “peaceful tribe.” So one group member has declared his home ShantaHinaHantaGani…As the mother of Tuatha, Echo, Wicca and Niabi, I can say nothing.

What does your name tell us about you? Have you outgrown it? Who are you? Where do you live? And what’s the name of your car?

What if Twin Oaks and East Wind founder Kat Kinkade had kept a blog? That would be some pure Hippie Chick Diaries! I’m just one of many writers to chronicle the frontier life of Intentional Community. Kat Kinkade’s books are must reads. I just received the following announcement on the passing of this pioneer and founding mother of our movement. Amazingly, I was just reading about her in Communities Magazine this month and thinking that I should visit Twin Oaks again and meet her. Now I’ll just have to know her through her legacy:

Kat Kinkade, community visionary and founder, died peacefully in her
room at Twin Oaks, on Thursday July 3, 2008, at 7:40 in the evening.
She was buried in the graveyard at Twin Oaks the afternoon of Friday
July 4, in a simple ceremony.

A Memorial Service is planned for Saturday July 19, at Yanceyville
Church in Louisa, at 2 pm. If you are interested in attending, or
would like more information, please email Valerie at
<valerie@twinoaks.org>.

A memorial webpage has been created, and everyone is invited to post
photos or write memories of Kat there. <http://katkinkade.ning.com>

Below is a copy of Kat’s obituary, written by her daughter Josie,
which will appear in the Central Virginian (our local Louisa
newspaper).

‘Kathleen “Kat” Kinkade, 77, died on Thursday July 3, 2008, in her
home at Twin Oaks Community in Louisa, surrounded by friends and
family.

Kat was born in Seattle in 1930, the depression era. She became the
first person in her family to go to college by attending the
University of Washington for one year. There she met and married Army
Sergeant Donald Logsdon.

When the marriage fell through, Kat took her four year-old daughter
to live in Mexico City, Mexico, here she taught English to first
graders at a private elementary school for five years.

She returned to the United States in 1960, got a job as a secretary,
and became an avid international folk dancer. She and her daughter
Josie (who was now twelve) joined what would become the famed Los
Angeles Troupe Aman.

It was while living in Los Angeles that Kat read the book “Walden
Two” by BF Skinner. She became obsessed with the idea of a group of
people who could live cooperatively, with true equality of income. In
1967, with six other like-minded souls, she founded Twin Oaks
Community in Louisa.

The early years at Twin Oaks were difficult but exciting. Kat
believed in the idea of the community so strongly that she was not
deterred by 25 cents a week spending money, having to take turns
commuting to Richmond to find temporary work, or by folks who found
the lifestyle too difficult and left.

She believed strongly in equality, and was careful to include others
in setting up by-laws that would prevent any one person from telling
others what to do. An incisive thinker, she “led through persuasion”
and helped put in place systems that still help make Twin Oaks the
success it is today.

Over time, Kat helped form two other communities also still in
existence: East Wind in Missouri and Acorn in Louisa county. She
wrote many of the early Twin Oaks newsletters, as well as two books
on the subject of Twin Oaks: “A Walden Two Experiment” and “Is It
Utopia Yet?”

An important part of Kat’s life was music. She joined the Yanceyville
Church, and was involved in the choir, where she sang any part
required of her, and wrote music, including parts of an adaptation of
Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol”. She wrote a light-hearted play
“Utopia” for Twin Oaks based on show-tunes from various musicals. For
ten years she was involved in Sacred Harp music of early America, and
composed several pieces in this genre as well. She had no formal
musical training, and made many amateur’s mistakes, yet produced some
beautiful music and lyrics.

At the age of 70, with not much physical strength, Kat decided she
wanted to try living in a house of her own, something she had never
had the opportunity to do. She moved into a tiny little house in
Mineral, and enjoyed planting many beautiful flowers, rescuing five
cats of her own, and bottle-feeding the occasional litter as a foster
mom. Last December, when she became too weak to live on her own, Twin
Oaks graciously took her back in and took care of her in a way that
only the most attentive and loving of families would have done. When
she passed away, her beloved cat Oolong was by her side.

Kat is survived by her daughter Josie Kinkade, and her granddaughter
Lee Ann Kinkade.

A memorial service will be held at Yanceyville Church on Saturday
July 19 at 2 pm.

In lieu of flowers, memorial contributions can be made to SNAP, PO
Box 1277, Louisa VA 23093.’

I just got great news on Facebook. Brilliant Contact Community in California is buying land! I won’t be able to make this meeting but I’ll be in the area in September for the 2008 World Polyamory Conference. Maybe I can visit and see things progressing then!

This is Brilliant’s announcement:

July 14th is the biggest day yet for the Brilliant Contact Community™. After almost six years of negotiation with the owner of a gorgeous property in the California wine country just north of San Francisco spanning over 10 square miles, we’re sitting down to sign the deal.

The owner, his lawyer, my lawyer, the project manager, the lead financier, and a supportive local rancher are all meeting with me to pen the deal. The owner has been difficult on the final wording although we’ve agreed on all the basics.

It’s all coming down to this meeting. Your inner support and sending energy to manifest this vision is requested and gratefully appreciated. Please RSVP so we can tell the owner how many people are in the meeting with us from afar and more importantly so I can know you’re there with us, albeit behind the scenes.

Whatever way works for you to support this vision in your heart and being is what I’m requesting. I trust in the perfection of whatever unfolds.

The times are PST. EST is three hours later. Greenwich mean time is eight hours later. The meeting starts at 10am and we’ll stay as long as it takes so I can’t really say the finishing time.

Thanks for being present for the vision. You can see more at our preliminary website at:

http://www.brilliance.org

In our plans are the following:

• Conference facility and sprung-wood dance floor to accommodate 500 people
• Artisan facilities
• Extensive organic gardens, pools, greenhouses, trails
• Wonderfully embracing social engagement spaces
• About 1000 homes
• High-end fitness facilities and spas
• Much more!

Our commitment is to environmental and ecological sustainability and to supporting the highest possibilities in consciousness, well-being, and interpersonal integrity.

Feel free to pass the word to all who may wish to support the manifestation of this vision by holding space for it within.

1. Harold KornylakJune 30th, 2008 at 11:59 am e

   Hi. I really like your website. I noticed the photo of the sign outside your main building “War is not the answer”, but no suggested alternative. So I wondered if it would be more in line with your philosophy to offer what COULD be the answer? Maybe that should be a topic for discussion, leading to a second sign offering the new direction for those who would like to agree with the first one if they had any other ideas?

2. WrenJune 30th, 2008 at 12:33 pm e

   Harold, Hi! And thanks for visiting and commenting! Good idea to phrase things in the positive instead of the negative. I just woke up so all I have right now is, “Tea is the answer.” A good backrub would solve a few of my woes, too…

   Funny that you make this comment now, because I’ve just spent a week intensely processing conflicts within the community and with some neighbors. And it’s clear that peace, or specifically conflict resolution, only works as an answer if all parties buy in. Still, you won’t catch me buying in to the war…

[My sweetie Harold, an osteopath from Virginia, is pictured above teaching tantra–quite a peaceful practice itself!]

Now that I’ve had my tea, I’m thinking about the human history of war and peace. Within Heathcote, my Intentional Community, everyone who lives here commits to our conflict resolution policy. It’s developed by consensus, so members who see improvements to be made in our process can bring them up. It’s a living, evolving agreement. But it’s only practiced among those who stay. Someone, for example, with a strong need to be right can just say, “This is bullshit,” and leave. The members who stay with Heathcote’s culture of processing end up being of similar temperament, having tremendous patience and commitment not to their own plan but to the higher good. So within the bubble of Heathcote, the process works fairly well. Extending that bubble to the entire planet is another issue. I can’t even get Heathcote’s neighbors to return my calls to meet with me about our beaver issue. I don’t feel equipped to stop a war among those determined to have one.

Yet the yield of any war that humans have waged has only ever been some land grabbing (creating historical amnesia and generational resentment for millennia, as pointed out in my favorite t-shirt, to the right), some winners, some big losers and countless dead. Still, my own generation continues this tradition, this entitlement to tunnel vision. I wonder how evolved we really are. Am I wrong to believe that we have the capacity to come together as humans planetwide?

Last night I caught a nature program showing the blue jellyfish. Its body is a bubble shaped to act like a sail. But half the creatures have their body sails pointing them left and half point right. So half sail out to sea to live life and procreate and half wash up on the beaches of Australia (see picture below). The randomness of evolution dooms half their population to death.

So even as I feel within me a tremendous capacity for peace, why should I assume that’s a universal human experience? How do nature and nurture influence a person’s ability to justify war, or violence of any kind?

Maybe I should switch to herbal tea. But my answer to such questions has always been to make my own choices, such as living in community and buying in to our process, and being available as model/guinea pig for those who want to come and learn. Maybe, Harold, witnessing is my personal answer.

A huge influence on the actions of humans seems to be what I call the line of other.

Individuals and cultures have this invisible line they cast out around them. Some people and living things are on their side of the line–family, friends, community, pets, nation. Then there are living things and people that are outside of this line–plants and animals one eats, other nations, people who are different in some triggering way. The line defines how we treat others. If you’re inside someone’s line, The Golden Rule applies. If you’re outside someone’s line, it does not. They can torture animals in factory farms and slaughter houses because they’re not like “us,” they’re “other.” They can invade another country with no obligation to understand its people’s culture or objections because they’re “other.” The line of other creates an impunity that terrifies me.

I hope my life and my choices help to negotiate a collective moving out of that line of other to include all life on Earth and the planet itself. I try to model this in my Open Classroom teaching, promoting fair trade with Heathcote Earthings and inviting dialog on Hippie Chick Diaries.

I get frequent emails from partners in this work who are fearful of humanity’s direction and impatient to make major changes.

Looking at the systems of nature, as Permaculture teaches me to do, I see that lasting change happens in two ways–catastrophically and incrementally.

War and natural disasters are catastrophic changes. They happen without my help, and will continue to. I don’t wish for them, as some do. I try to make my peace with their rhythms and minimize my carbon footprint. Incremental change feels more peaceful to me and I am satisfied with my little victories of having information about sustainability or Intentional Community when someone comes asking, or witnessing for animal rights or human rights when I hear someone being intolerant. And I live as lightly as I can every day. I’m not a monk but I’m not a soccer mom, either.

Maybe, Harold, walking my talk for those who will notice is my answer. And like every creature that evolves, my answer is a work in progress.

I’m looking forward to everyone’s thoughts!

–Wren Tuatha

Greta Fields’ neighbors over the ridge are strip mining. Greta is planting wildflowers. The contrast is palpable as Greta tells me of pressure from the mining company to sell her land. Greta has other plans.

“I thought of calling this place Mine Pony Farm, to honor all the ponies who lived here and died in the mines,” she muses between pointing out and naming bunches of flowering plants in the understory. We walk in and out of woods on her land, a mountain, actually, in Appalachia. She was raised in these mountains and is clearly as rooted and natural here as the flowers and fruit trees she’s sown.

Her family has a rich love of the theater and Greta has authored several plays. Her ties to the regional and national arts communities lead to the brainstorm of turning her farm into a playwrights retreat, complete with homes for writers and actors and a stage, where playwrights can hear their works in progress performed.

She’s well on her way. Many fledgling groups struggle to find and purchase land. Greta has plenty of land, owned outright, and she’s researching putting it in land trust. Often getting the first houses on the land is an ordeal. Her farm has 4 homes and a trailer now. The single story homes range from one to three bedrooms, with complete kitchens and baths. All have been rewired. At the moment, all need some repairs. She used to maintain them herself, but she’s been away from the property attending graduate school and now she’d like to hire or trade with a handyperson or caretaker who will occupy the farm during the work.

Greta has a biocentric (life centered) philosophy and she protects and nurtures a population of rare, large ravens on her land, hence her online moniker, Ravenkeeper.

I’m excited at the possibility of preserving Greta’s farm in land trust, protecting it from unsustainable practices and holding it instead as a platform for exploring and preserving the rich cultural and arts traditions of Appalachia. “ I used to think the idea of ‘Appalachian place’ was meaningless,” explains Greta, “Now I realize it is everything. If you lose your sense of place, you lose your soul.”

Few words could be more powerful for me, as I visit Greta directly from visiting my family farm in Bloomfield, Kentucky. Our farm as been in our family since the land grant days. It has always been a touchstone for me, a living soul I sometimes call my “second grandmother.” I wrote my screenplay, Bacca Blooms, as an exploration of my bond with our farm and the generations of my bloodline there.

As I approach 14 years of life in the woods of Heathcote Community, I ponder how mobile our society really is. During this trip I heard an NPR report that more than half of the human race is now living in urban settings. So few of us put down roots and sit still with any piece of land for very long. What are we denying ourselves? This loss must diminish us. No wonder so many humans can’t view their purchasing and lifestyle choices through the filter of their impacts on the environment. Their choices so rarely come directly back to them. And the land doesn’t get the time to “speak” to them, as when we slow down, getting still and wordless.

Greta has many of the elements in place to make a difference on this piece of land, and to offer it as a sanctuary to artists who might then spread their “sense of place” to the world. Who can help her with the next step, which is getting her houses ready for artists? The caretaker should have carpentry, plumbing and electrical skills and be able to work independently with direction. And s/he should be prepared for rustic living, these are the mountains. There are snakes, bobcats and bears. Nature is not a Disney movie!

If you’re interested in being a caretaker or getting involved with Greta’s farm in another way, contact her via her gaia.com profile.

If you’d like to find an Intentional Community near you, or just learn more about it, join our gaia group.

Wow, talking bes hard. The communi in communicate is so true–If you don’t get the other person to buy in to finding a solution to the problem or conflict between the two of you, then you’re an unhooked battery, all charge and no current.

Intentional Community is a laboratory for communication and conflict resolution.

At Heathcote Community, all members agree to a flexible process for addressing conflicts in a timely manner, and we agree on certain rules of engagement. If I have an issue with Jane Heathcoter, I’ve agreed not to carry it around, stewing in my juices. I must ask her for a “checkin.” Depending on the voltage of the charge, Jane and I might

• sit down one on one
• ask another Heathcoter to mediate or
• take our issue to the entire community for help and support.

This is what new members can’t always prepare for in advance: Intentional Community is a fishbowl, a small one. Everyone else sees your baggage. They’ll be impacted by it and call you on it. Processing this is the deepest, hardest, most sacred work of community. Sustainable living, beautiful scenery and community dinners are in a way just the trappings of it.

Some people have the self knowledge that this is work they dream of doing. Others have the wisdom to know it’s not for them. Some believe intellectually that they want this, but are shocked by how hard the work is, how bruising to the ego, and how hard that ego is to put down. Good communication is a skillset, not just good intentions.

In my thirteen years of observing communication and conflict resolution at Heathcote and other communities, I’ve come to recognize these components in successful processing:

• each speaks her or his truth without agenda or manipulation, sticking to facts and speaking from experience, putting down that ego and the need to be right or wise
• each listens so as to understand the speaker’s experience, walking that mile in her or his moccasins–”Oh, that’s how it is for you…” putting down filters, not preparing for debate
• everyone looks at all the cards on the table, looking not for the solution they had in mind at the beginning, but for the win/win that arises from new understanding and acceptance of each other

Even after thireen years in the fishbowl, I still fall into all the traps of bad communication. But I try hard and, because of the sacred work we’ve done, I’ve created trust and mutual respect with my long time community mates. I have enough safety to bring them just about any subject and speak with transparency.

At Heathcote we’ve brought in outside trainers to improve our skills in conflict resolution and consensus, as well as meeting facilitation. We’ve added to our communication “toolboxes.” Many of us have found processes like Zegg Forum, Non-Violent Communication and Imago very powerful and helpful.

Are you seeking community where you can have lovingly honest relationships with your friends? Do you want to learn skills of sharing and listening without agenda, noticing when you get triggered and looking at the causes?

Do you live in community now? I’d love to hear your adventures in conflict resolution!

I often say that Intentional Community is the toughest gift you’ll ever be glad you opened. If you’ve been considering seeking community, I’m inviting you in. Now that you know about that secret gift, welcome to the fishbowl.

Meet you in the deep end!

–Wren Tuatha

One festival vendor’s loss was Heathcote’s gain this week.

Chelas the Instigator, a very talented, creative body painter, hung out in my Intentional Community when her scheduled gig fell through. Above, see my wombat, a dolphin and a mermaid!

Chelas was very open with her paints and her energy. I thought about the image of the spring maiden/goddess, flowers sprouting from her footsteps, leaving green in her wake. Chelas is one of those sweet people who spreads festival spirit wherever she goes.

She calls her body art business Chelas is a Show Off. She paints with makeup, as above. Or she can give you a temporary tattoo of your design, which lasts up to a week.

She was able to visit a friend here and explore community because her scheduled festival, Jambaloosa, seems to have been a scam, designed to trick vendors out of their booth fees, in this case, $300.

Chelas and I, as professional vendors, had to give the scammers points for creativity. I’ve never heard of or encountered such a scam before. I hope it doesn’t become a trend.

Discussion threads on jambase.com show chaos and confusion around some last minute cancellation of the event. I’ll have to investigate further to see if any fees have been refunded or if authorities have been notified of a possible scam. The festival’s website domain name is now up for sale and advertising porn.

Festival goers may not appreciate that my festival business, Heathcote Earthings, which occupies a double booth, pays anywhere from $70 to $1800 in booth rent, depending on the venue and duration of the event. Plus, we’re often charged extra for a corner or two. We may not take the same risks as a brick-and-mortar store, but Earthings, Chelas and other festival circuit riders do have high costs of doing business, especially with today’s gas prices!

I wish Chelas the Instigator and her sweetie, Peter, joy in their travels, spreading that festival spirit wherever they go! Stay in touch!