Hello, Goodbye

I have not written a post in a while. I don't really know who all is impacted by this besides maybe my parents, but if you are, then I am sorry that I dropped off the face of the Earth for a bit there. I am writing a post now to amend for this, as well as to prepare some people for the fact that I will not be writing on here for a while. At least two months...but who knows for how much longer after that as well.

Tomorrow I start Practice Period. Practice Period is a whole different ball game than the summer apprenticeship season here in the gulch. Whereas, out of necessity, the focus of the summer season here is the production of the farm and garden (as well as the retreats and guests), in Practice Period the focus is, well, the practice. It's led by Reb Anderson, who will give us many a dharma talk (undoubtedly about "pivots" and "pivoting") and a class on the Ox Herding Pictures. Our abbess Fu is also going to give a class on Dogen, the founder of Soto Zen. 

I will still be working in the garden, but only 4 hours a day. The rest of my time is going to be largely spent sitting. During the summer I was only required to sit 4 days a week; now I will sit at least one 40-minute period every day (even on our personal days, of which we only get one-and-a-half a week). Every Tuesday we will have a half-day sit, followed by free time. Every work day we get two hours of free time in the afternoon, as well as one hour of required reading time, during which we can only read dharma books. 

The bookends of the Practice Period are periods of INTENSE sitting. Tomorrow, to kick it off, we are doing a two-day tangaryo. Tangaryo is sitting all-day (5 am to 9 pm) with the only breaks being meal times (followed by one hour of free time). Tangaryo is supposed to me reminiscent of when monks would first approach a monastery to practice, and they used to have to sit outside of the temple, unperturbed, until they were allowed admittance inside. This was a test to show your dedication. It completely reminds me of Fight Club and people waiting outside of the house on Paper Street until they were allowed entry into Project Mayhem.

At the end of Practice Period we will sit a sesshin. I've already talked about sesshins before, but in case you missed that post, a sesshin is a week of all-day sits. The all-day sits during sesshin are less stringent than during tangaryo, in that you get more breaks and are able to walk around more and stuff, but it's still from 5 in the morning till 9 at night, and you know, is an entire week.

Anyways, this whole thing is supposedly super great, really grounding, really unifying, and I'm curious about it all. I don't really have any expectations, at least ones that I'm conscious of. We'll just see what happens.

I will not be on my computer during Practice Period, so this is going to be my last post until probably at least mid-December. I know I haven't posted in a while, so I'll do a quick catch-up before saying goodbye for now.

Notable occurrences from the past month:

1. I returned to Colorado for the wedding of two of my favorite people, Jordan Breakstone and Dana Shier. It was an absolutely tremendous time, wonderfully full of love and a completely perfect weekend, in my opinion. It was the first time since I moved to Green Gulch that I  had been away from the valley for more than 24 hours. As such it was very stimulating at many points, but overall rather heartening and refreshing. I was able to help them out by utilizing my skills at flower arranging that grew and blossomed here (pun intended) to do the arrangements for the wedding. It was quite the homecoming for all of my college friends, known as The Collective (with some notable lovelies missing). The weekend for me was essentially a Collective love-fest, where we were all able to be together and continuously expressing to each other how much we all love each other. I really do love them all, a lot. I'm also just so excited and happy for Jordan and Dana. It is quite the accomplishment to bring together so many people in complete unison and love to celebrate their own love and commitments to each other.

Extended Collective, with bride and groom front and center. Missing notables: Kati, Nick, Shane, Johanna, Sean and Luke.

2. On the last Friday of September the farm and garden put on the annual Harvest Dinner and Dance. It was quite the evening. The farm and garden crew collectively made the dinner, primarily using ingredients from the farm/garden, and decorated our usually unassuming pool deck into a rather lovely dance space, complete with twinkle lights, large paper flowers, and real flowers spattered about. The dinner consisted of absolutely delicious beet burgers, yummy herb spreads, roasted potatoes, lovely cole slaw, and baked apples. The dance was a square dance, complete with an official caller. I'll admit that, despite my fervent love of dancing, I was not feeling too excited at the thought of square dancing. However, it was quite perfect--I think that perhaps a community of quiet introverts might need someone telling them how to dance and how to make contact with one another in order for us to be comfortable with doing so. Furthermore, my friend (the community's friend) Travis returned for the weekend, and it was just so great to have him around.

3. On the day following the Harvest Dinner a group of us went up Mount Tam and hung out on the grassy slopes of the sleeping goddess over-looking the sea. On this trip I was particularly struck by the wonder that hanging out with a group of Zen students is. Everybody makes such piquant, understated, apt, completely respectful and loving remarks about our situations. When we arrived to our spot on the hill, comments such as "the grass smells lovely," "look at the way the waves roll out there on the ocean," and "the trees are such a deep color green!" were exchanged before we all sat silently and easily in our spot together for a good while. We also explored forests, went to Stinson Beach for ice cream, and then Mill Valley for burgers on this outing. It was really, simply, wonderful.

4. Reverend angel Kyodo williams came and gave a dharma talk to the Green Gulch community. Reverend angel is an African-American, lesbian, Zen priest. She has written a few highly-acclaimed books about engaged Buddhism, including her most recent, Radical Dharma. She is absolutely inspiring to listen to. She has such clear insight into what it means to live compassionately while still valuing your own struggles and the suffering of the world. One of her main points, and one that is particularly striking to me each time I hear her speak, is that we must be compassionate towards people who are bigoted or oppressive because they are missing out on so much of life and experience through their hatred and closed-off hearts and minds. She presents that idea much more eloquently and inspiringly than I just did, so if you're interested in what she has to say, you should definitely read her books or listen to her talks.

5. A group of us had one last outing to Ryan's grandparents' orchard in Sebastopol. I love Sebastopol--really just Sonoma County in general. It's climate is dry and hot, and far more similar to the climate that I grew up in than the damp and grey climate I currently reside in. The orchard was lovely, of course. We did some more work to prepare the property for Ryan's brother's wedding, which happened on Saturday (congratulations Gabe and Shannon! I know the both of you definitely read the blog and would be remiss if I didn't do a shout-out). It was great to have a weekend away before being in lock-down for two months.

6. The garden manager, Claudia, went to Tassajara (our sister temple) for Practice Period there, leaving the garden without a manager for a while. She prepared us all very thoroughly for her time away, and I'm also curious as to what that's going to be like. Marie and Rebecca are not doing Practice Period, so they'll be able to work full-time, which will help. Juniper and I are still going to work in the garden when we can, and two new Practice Period people will also join our crew. Considering that the garden is already really slowing down on production, I think it will be fine and entirely manageable. We had a lovely last week together (Isabelle is also moving on to work on her career). I love the garden ladies, and I am so grateful to have had them as my work family these past six months.

The ladies of the garden!

Some Journal Entries from this Past Month:

1. The Garden at Evening

This dusk is so real and whole--the deep, sheer, tangible obscurity in the light, signaling another transition, another change. The breeze momentarily soaked through me before passing on to carry the bees and dragonflies home. The trees are their own dark silhouettes, the individuality of their limbs and their beings becoming a shadow of an entangled complexity. They are set against the pastel awareness of the reminiscent sky, beckoning thoughts of the past when I was tired, but otherwise happy. 

I am happy now, though more completely. I don't know what makes me so sure that the happiness of this moment is more complete than the happinesses of my past. I still feel the cold air, the coming turns, but now I know to stop and look at the stars, to look at the moon and marvel. 

The clover is deep and full beneath my feet. The birds are signaling the curtain call and the flowers around me seem more tangible in their beauty in this fading light than when they are radiant in the brightness of day. This beauty is easier for me to understand, to see in myself. It is subdued, quiet, and slyly self-aware. 

I see in front of me some wisps of clouds impermanently stained a vibrant pink by the setting sun, outlining and framing the almost imperceptible twinkle of the first star shining for this night, for this place. I know it is possible to both be alone, and not be at all--to only be a reflection of this world slowly pivoting away from our star and towards the light of stars that passed through the ineffable emptiness of vast space to only be momentarily seen and seldom understood. 

This tree right before me knows me better than I could ever know it. I don't know why that seems to be the case--perhaps it is a different sort of knowing than the kind I'm accustomed to. Goodnight, tree. I'll try to see you in the morning as I tend to the soil and plants around you, surrounding you. Thank you for being here with me tonight. 

2. Sitting in the Dining Room

I'm just going to sit down and write and see what happens.

What exists in this state of stale inspiration? This state of idealizing the potential for artistry and raw emotion? Is my neck too tight? Have I consumed too much sugar? Is my disconnect from my heart making it impossible to think clearly? What is the danger of living too much in your head?

I have discovered what it is like to live complacently in a place that is dedicated to awareness.

I am consistently entirely aware of how young I am--of how my youth begets frustration, sometimes directed at the fact that I am young and not reckless. I always aim to live a life that is conscientious, thoughtful, and measured, but by living in such a way, so much is left out. So much is gained, but still there is so much left out. I do not wish to live with reckless impulsiveness, but sometimes I want to consciously be recklessly impulsive. I sometimes want to give into my frivolous desires, in full acknowledgement of their frivolity and senselessness and ephemerality…just so I can experience it. Just to satisfy my scientific curiosity at how life can be, is going to be.

The light here is dark, even in midday. Right now it could be considered proper evening. So it is, of course, the hues of a day ending. The plants outside the window are dancing under the force of unleashed rainfall, rejoicing in the potential such unbound moisture brings--potential to go to sleep, to rejuvenate, to nourish their short-lived tissues that cling to the surface of this ever-evolving and breathing space rock. 

All of the beings here are used to living in a cloud, to navigating our gaze through the passing of mists and fogs along the hidden ridge lines of our encompassing hills. We are used to navigating the clouds surrounding our imperfect senses so that we can rest uneasily and joyously in the knowledge that we know nothing, and soon this will all end.

It is a full moon tonight, but her energy will be hidden behind torrents--but only from us valley folk. The moon herself will always bathe in her own energy as an ever-present, ever-inspiring, ever-lifeless orb; sister to the stars, but only distantly so--only so to the poetic creatures down below her who seek to understand their place among the entirety of everything while it lasts. 

Really, it's just as well that I won't have the moon with me tonight--the unbridled and wild energy she inspires in my delicate body when she is at her full-scale voluptuousness sounds frustrating. I am fortunate to have lovely nights filled with hope and tension. I am unlucky that I have the habit of expecting all such similar circumstances to yield similar results.

3. Place

Today it is rainy. It has been so for the past few days, but it is important to notice it today as well. Today is a day of transition. People well-loved by the community are moving away and new faces are joining us (well, new to me). It is overall a rather refreshing experience. Maybe refreshing is not the right word, for it is so positive. There is naturally some sadness in seeing some of my loves leave--but they're not really gone, and I know that.

Today is my last day living in the yurt. Tomorrow I will move into the urban center of Green Gulch--Cloud Hall--and no longer be able to associate with the mountain folk of which I am now a part. This is a transition that I have been waiting for with earnest eagerness. I am convinced that I will have more free-time if I am not having to consistently trek back and forth from the outskirts. Perhaps more pertinently, the yurt is not insulated and it is starting to get cold. At night the cold does not bother me--it is primarily an issue at 4:15 in the morning when I wake up to stumble my way along the dark path to zazen. 

My room in Cloud Hall is warm and cozy, and just like the yurt I'll have a skylight and lovely ladies for company. I am ready for this transition, and yet there's always a little trepidation in change, in having to release your former way of living so that you may grow and learn. I am reminded of when I was growing up and my family would move houses. As we were pulling away for the last time from what had been our home, my mom would always look back and say "Bye-bye, happy house!", which my brother and I would then repeat. I always found that small ritual comforting and right--I have always inherently felt that places or things should be treated with respect, especially if they shelter you or care for you or give you comfort and support. I have carried this ritual with me into adulthood (if that is what this is). I said it to my dorm room in college, and to every place that has sheltered me since. 

I have been making sure to fully appreciate all that the yurt-living experience can uniquely offer to me, to my experience and my connection to this place, to Green Gulch. In Wendy Johnson's class, "Buddhism and Ecology", she effortlessly and reverentially identifies with and loves the land, her place. As someone who grew up in a small mountain town, I have been instructed and reminded throughout my life to find my place. To orient to where I am. In Colorado, that orientation was done easily through using the enveloping mountains. Here there is potential for it to be done through the hills, the fog, the ocean, the redwood forests, the garden, or the farm. Yet recently I have not been able to connect to this earth, to this land that I now call home. 

I have been too trapped in my own ideas of what I am not getting from life. I've been living in a fog of self-involved frustration and in so doing I have disconnected from my place--from my soil, my flowers, my food, my softly rolling clouds, my bright stars, my sunlit dry hills, my body on this Earth. It is a little disheartening to discover that even living a life as a gardener at a Zen center is conducive to a period of dissociation from my surroundings and the planet. Although, because I live as a gardener at a zen center, I do have the fortunate advantage of being someone who is aware of my dissociation. I am also lucky enough to have ready access to wise beings such as Wendy who are able to gently encourage me to lift my head out of my own ass and look around for a moment, at the moment.

So, today I looked around once more. On one of my last hikes from the yurt I stopped for a moment to look at a tree--a tree I've passed many, many times. It is a striking tree, and has impressed me continuously throughout the past six months with its character. It looks old, wise, venerable, crotchety, tired, aged, storied, harried, and magnificent. It is bare of any foliage but is somehow consistently spattered with immense cones. Its branches are all gnarled and broken, and reach out to the sky in a sort of resigned attempt to connect to its environs. One day, maybe a month or so ago, I saw a hawk perched on one of the tree's staggering limbs. I stopped to stare at that glorious bird, and it in turn intently and silently stared at me. We watched each other, the hawk gazing down at me with such an unfiltered awareness of my being that I was quickly unnerved at my nakedness and insignificance to this creature and continued on. Today, as it is a rainy day, the usually dry and grey wood of the tree is drenched deeply so that it has become very dark--almost black. The pale green lichen that delicately and stubbornly stretches along its bark is in striking contrast to that wet wood.

As I continued up the hill towards Green Gulch proper, I reflected on how the hill used to feel like a small panic attack every time I climbed it. It becomes unassumingly steep rather quickly, so if a person is not used to that small hike, it becomes a ready lens for how apparently out of shape you are. Now, I can stride up that hill with ease, thanking that quick slope for toning my glutes and thighs on our daily walks. 

Cresting the slope I am greeted by a row of pines decorated with holes made by persistent woodpeckers. The pines have dropped a fair amount of their needles onto the road. The needles of the trees today are quite unlike the needles of the earlier months--as opposed to a rich green they are now a vibrant orange, and they have recently been dropping with such voracity that the road appears to be an orange carpet; only the occasional muddy pothole gives its true nature away. 

I think about how aware my body is of the moon and the stars; how living out here in the yurt has provided me with the opportunity to navigate many times solely by moonlight or--if it's a new moon or cloudy--to navigate by all of my senses barring sight. Living out here has enabled me to become familiar with a family of deer, as well as the sounds of cavorting great-horned owls as I fall asleep. It has enabled me to live in a tangible paradise, where on Fridays I could get off of work from the garden, walk a hundred feet, pick a few plums--either of the wild or domesticated "elephant heart" varieties--and play ukulele, draw pictures, or write letters on my porch until the supper bell rings. What kind of life is that? How can I be so fortunate?

This transition is good, and feels right in my bones. I am excited to live life more fully in the community, with my community. I am remembering how thankful I am for this place and again being amazed that such a place exists, and I can call it my home. Green Gulch is by no means perfect, but it also definitely isn't not perfect, either. 

So, for now, I am ready to say hello to my place in Cloud Hall…and bye-bye happy yurt.

Get to Know a Farm/Garden Apprentice: Jack Thomas

Last weekend I was able to spend the afternoon with the charming, intelligent, warm, friendly, thoughtful, delight of a person named Jack. I am quite fond of Jack. He is unceasingly kind and welcoming to everybody who lives at Green Gulch, as well as seemingly every other being he encounters. He is already a living Bodhisattva incarnate. I hope you enjoy getting to know him better!

Catherine: Hello! I am with Jack…oh, can I use your last name?

Jack: Of course

C: Ok, I am with Jack Thomas. Hi Jack.

J: Hi Catherine

C: So, I think a good place to start is to talk about what you'd say you do here, at Green Gulch.

J: *Phew* Um, wow. Well, the first thing that comes to mind is the farm apprenticeship. That's the primary substance of my day. So, let's see, that kind of work goes anywhere from 8:30 or 9:00 to in-the-neighborhood-of 4:15, 4:30. And, the apprenticeship, as probably many of the other interviewees have mentioned, is primarily focused on learning the ins and outs of working on and maintaining a small, organic farm. So, at Green Gulch there's seven acres, approximately, maybe five or six of which are in cultivation at any given time; and we have a pretty small crew, and it consists of, I believe, five staff members, and two--or three--formal leadership figures, and then the rest are apprentices. So, we do the labor. We sow the seed, we plant out starts, we prepare the fields for plantings, we harvest what we have grown, and then…maybe all of this has already been covered *laughs*

C: No! It's great!

J: Ok! *laughs*

C: I want to hear exactly how you…what you think you do.

J: How I conceptualize this?

C: Yeah.

J: Yeah, so I mean that kind of work, the processing, the very hands on--the creating of the causes and conditions for produce to come out of the earth, and to distribute that produce to the hungry patrons of Mill Valley and San Francisco--I am a part of a team that facilitates that process. 

The second thing that comes to mind, which is probably--wow, definitely--the heart and soul of what I do here is practice! So, it pervades…practice pervades work, it pervades the apprenticeship. It is the water through which I swim at Green Gulch, and it begins before work, and it ends after work, when I go to bed. *Pause* I mean, I could talk about the schedule, but really it's not even confined to morning zazen, or to service. And, it's not even necessarily confined to Green Gulch, although this is where the wheel of my practice began turning, and is encouraged and supported to turn. But, yeah, I would say, as often as I can remember, every minute of every day, what I am doing is practicing just this life *pause*.

I am trying to navigate between how do I answer this question keeping your audience in mind. Like, I don't know exactly which concepts I need to articulate more clearly. Or, if it's just a conversation with you, just telling you how do I…when you say "What do I do here?" and when my answer is practice…I feel like I can go in so many directions with that. Is there anything that is more helpful?

C: I think it's more the latter. I mean, if people read my blog consistently, I talk about life here pretty frequently.

J: Ok.

C: So, they have some sort of idea of what that means. And, also, I've found that a lot of the people who read the interviews actually live here.

J: Sure.

C: So, they know that that means…and, yeah, what I'm personally more interested in is your take on the practices.

J: Oh my god, I could talk about practice all day.

C: Ok, let's do it!

J: Great! So, ok, I did not have very much of…I did not have a consistent practice before coming to Green Gulch. I was living in Boston, Massachusetts when it began. I was a sophomore in college, at Tufts University, just outside of the city actually, in the Somerville/Medville area--holla!

*Catherine giggles*

And I was really unhappy. I felt very overwhelmed, and that I wasn't giving school what it deserved. And because school is so expensive, I felt like I was wasting a colossal amount of time and energy and money--my parents' money, my own time and energy--in an environment that just wasn't…I didn't feel like I was thriving even though I was doing lots of potentially fulfilling activities. I was singing acapella, I was a part of this orientation group, this wilderness orientation club that I loved. I had great friends, but there was part of me that was existentially preoccupied, and also incredibly anxious--just trying to juggle classes with social life and acapella and other commitments was totally overwhelming. 

And my sister sent me this book, it was Wherever You Go, There You Are by John Kabat-Zinn and I began meditating after that. And--in conjunction with counseling--those were the only two things that made me feel better, like I could calm down. And then the following year, junior year, I started listening to ZenCast, which is a podcast distributed by, and created by, Gil Fronsdale.

C: Oh!

J: Yeah, who was actually just here a few weekends ago, at Green Gulch…and that was my self-medication, in a really big way. I started on car rides, on bike rides, any chance I got, I was listening to ZenCast and to Audio Dharma and to the Alan Watts podcast…and so it was like I was beginning to massage my existential crisis. I couldn't really reconcile the size of the universe with my existence and my place in the world. I felt meaningless…and those podcasts helped me interface with that kind of thinking in a new way, that actually gave me a little bit of space and room to breathe, and some tools with which I could see those thoughts, and take back or embrace them, make room for them.

And…I would say I really didn't do too much meditating in Colorado. I don't think I mentioned that--when I took time off and started listening to these podcasts, I moved to Colorado. And I used to not just listen *giggle* on bike rides or car rides, but I would smoke weed on my aunt and uncle's roof...

C: Mmmhmm!

J: …and look up at the vast Colorado night sky, and listen to these podcasts.

C: Ha! That sounds lovely.

J: It was phenomenal. That was the first time I realized that the night sky is actually three-dimensional and that you can see it in 3-D. It's not just like a sheet with poked holes in it, there's actually depth. And that blew my fucking mind.

*Both laugh*

Yeah, then I decided to go back to school and I realized that in order to succeed in that environment I needed some parameters---that I had to incorporate the tools that I had introduced myself to, that Gil had introduced me to--in my daily life, and I started going to the Cambridge Meditation Center on a regular basis for their "35 and Under" sitting group. So, that was weekly, and then I would frequent the Greater Boston Zen Center…infrequently? 

*Both giggle*

Like, maybe I went a total of seven times, or six times, over the course of two years. But, I would sit with them on Saturday mornings, I think it was from like nine to noon. We would do periods of zazen and kinhin, and service--with Josh Bartoch, who was great, he's doing a wonderful job out there. That's where I first chanted the Makka Hannya Haramita Shin Gyo, and loved it. I've been a sucker for ceremony and service since going to Catholic school and high school. Yeah, and the more that I invested myself in these opportunities to meditate, in these sanghas, these little sanghas…*long pause* Yeah, the more I did that, the healthier I felt. So, let's see, what happened next. 

Oh, ok! So I began volunteering…I volunteered at the garden at the Cambridge Insight Meditation Center…and somebody--I think it was my first day volunteering--someone was like, "How do you like this, Jack?" and I said I loved it! I loved working with my body, I loved having my hands in the soil and supporting plant life, and serving this organization, the CIMC, that made such a big difference in my life. And, this--I don't even know who it was, this angel--was like, "You know that you can do this all the time? There's this farm that is also a Zen center out in California!" *giggle* And it was like fireworks in my head, because I had always felt…I was born in Redwood City, and lived the first two years of my life in San Mateo. So, being told that as a kid growing up, you know, "actually Jack, you were born in California, you're from the Bay Area…." I always felt a longing. It's like I'm a homing pigeon!

*Catherine laughs*

I just wanted to return! *giggles* Back to the land of origin, back to the motherland…and so, when they said "you could do these two things that you love in your…in the place of your birth" I knew that I would go there, I knew that I would come to Green Gulch. So I applied at the end of my senior year, to come out for a two-week guest stay; and then I ended up getting a sales job and cancelled my guest student stay, and worked at a tech company in Kendall Square, just outside of Boston, across the Charles. It was for eleven months…and about six months into that I realized that…no…well, three months in I was like, "I do not like this!" I mean, it's challenging work, I can see it being fulfilling for a certain type of person. Like, if someone was really competitive and really a great cultural fit, like very much into sports, and probably a male, and probably straight, like a dude! And it's such a fun environment if you're comfortable with all of those things…and I was not. And on top of that, being a call monkey is really hard! Doing telesales is a difficult job. So three months in I was like, "screw this!" and I almost quit, and then I decided to give it more time, to try to tackle this beast. So, six months in, the game had changed, I was doing really well, but knew it wasn't for me…and I thought, "Ok, I'll ride this out because it's not a bad gig, it's paying the bills. I'll at least stay here through my lease. I need a contingency plan, I need something else set up for when this window's, when this tech-job window, is up." And so I reached out to Green Gulch and I got in touch with Francis Dwyer! *giggle* And he was like, "Yeah, unfortunately, the farm apprenticeship for this upcoming summer is already full, and there's a wait-list. So, you can't do that. But you can come out in the summertime and do your two-week guest student stay, and get a feel for whether or not this is the kind of place that you want to spend a serious amount of time." 

So, I made plans to go to Green Gulch in July in the summer of 2015, and buckled down at work, and just kept my nose to the grindstone. Then I got my two-week break, in the summer, and came to Green Gulch, and was floored. The way I described it at the time was: it was like a puzzle piece being fit into place; after years of looking--I finally, finally!--found a community of people who thought about the world the way that I did, that cared about aligning their daily life with their morals and values. And, who also didn't shy away from heady philosophical, or psychological, or existential, really abstract conversation. That's just where my mind just gravitates, like I'm always…like I'll be at a bar with friends, and I'll be like "How are you?", and they'll say, "Oh, I'm doing this and this and this and this," and I'll be like, "No, how are you?" *giggle* Like, "Tell me about yourself, let's be real!" And I always felt like I made people uncomfortable going for very substantive conversation, in settings that maybe were not designed for that. It was a misalignment in that way…but not at Green Gulch. That is the bread and butter of our relationship here--being real with each other, saying what's on our heart and mind, really, and immersing ourselves in the cosmic mystery…also, the mundane mystery.

But anyway, I felt an immediate resonance, and I went back to Boston and started…I set up a little altar in my room, and started sitting a period of zazen every morning, before work *giggles* They have these little pamphlets, the prayer pamphlets, so I would chant the prayer pamphlet. So, I memorized those, and I would read from Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind, and I'd burn incense, and it was a very beautiful morning ritual. Actually, I came back from Green Gulch, made this altar, and then my first day back to work they offered me a promotion. And…*chuckle* I had to tell them "Actually, I'm quitting" *giggle* "I'm so sorry!" And I thanked them, and they were very supportive. It was a phenomenal place to work! The company is called InsightSquared. I felt like their professional development was off the charts. I felt very well taken care of. My career was a priority to them. They wanted me to succeed as not just a bottom-level call monkey, but they wanted me to develop to be a contributing member of the team for the long term. That was the tact that they took with all of their sales people. So, in that regard I just…I have nothing but great things to say about that company. 

And it wasn't a fit, so they gave me big hugs and sent me on my way and then I spent the next month enjoying my time with friends and meditating. That was really the turning point in my practice, when it became a daily exercise. I began meditating regularly, I began feeding my brain, and began paying attention to what I was digesting--like through visual media and in written word. That summer---I guess my lease was up in August, so that summer I spent with friends in Acadia National Park and at Walden Pond and in Portland, Maine, and then once I moved out I began a cross-country road trip that the final destination was Green Gulch. 

Then the journey really took a turn, and shit got so real. Like living in this little community, this village at Green Gulch Valley--probably the best analogy that I've come across for livelihood and practice here is--I think it's a Zen saying, or maybe just a Buddhist analogy for Practice Periods, actually--*giggle* Its going to be literally like Catherine: "tell me about your practice" *both laugh* Jack: life story. Wall of text!

C: Yeah, but that's okay! This is great! 

J: Ok

C: I'm kind of relieved that I don't have to ask a whole bunch of questions. You're just doing it!

J: Ok, great! *giggles* Ok! *laughs* 

*Catherine is laughing a lot*

J: Ok, so for Practice Periods they say it's like being rocks in a tumbler, where we bump up against each other in such close quarters, and our edges soften. I would say that the first four months of practice and work practice and immersion in the container, they felt a lot like that. It took me forever to get my bearings, and I didn't know what my practice looked like. I continued to love sitting zazen, I continued to….*sigh* I feel, like, ecstatic during services. So, loved that, and began trying out dokusan and practice discussions. So, in terms of formal practice, I really liked that, but didn't understand or know how to take my practice with me from the zendo into the rest of life. I was really blessed in my first…it was October, November, December, January…my first four months living here I had a roommate---and one of my really good friends, actually---they were like…they influenced me in a really big way, and showed me, everyday, the many ways that practice can be something that we carry with us all day. So that became a focus of mine, like "Ok, I feel very…I'm holding myself in my body intentionally, and it feels very good in zazen. And I'm paying attention to the quality of my thoughts and studying the self in the zendo." And then I began, with their guidance, and with the support of this community, to do the same outside of the zendo, at work…and in social situations, started to…like, social busyness…and…why is that? Why am I acting the way that I'm acting around these people, and why do I act differently around other people? It just felt like layers and layers of my habits, I could finally see all of the bottoms that are pressed dictating my unconscious actions in the world---and suddenly, I could see the machinery behind that. So, that continues to be my practice today---paying attention to, and becoming very intimate with, this person. I would say another huge practice would be the practice of love, and of self love, which actually is a practice of liberating all beings, of loving all beings. 

Actually, maybe this is a good time to share this:

C: Ok.

J: I have…these are intentions--practice-oriented intentions--for the month of September.

C: That's funny, Duras did the same thing.

J: Yeah.

C: She talked about it in her interview too.

J: No kidding!

C: Yeah.

J: So I'm…Duras' intentions inspired mine.

C: Oh!

J: She asked--we had an email exchange--and she asked if had any intentions for this month, and this was my response to her. The first is, "At every opportunity, with great perseverance, remember and return, whole-heartedly, to the seat of awareness." Which is also the observer position, and I think of it as being…when you hear Reb talk about the buddha-mind seal or the buddha-mind, I think all of those things are the same. It's the witness to all thoughts and mental objects and experience. So, return to that place at every time that I remember to. "Let go of mental objects; let form, formations, perceptions, and consciousness swirl around me, and neither touch nor turn away from them, like the eye of a storm." So, that's one. The next one is: "No hesitation. Offer myself in service of others, in service of practice, in service of each moment. Do this with dignity, sincerity, and humility, characterized by"-- and this is quoting the I-Ching--" a passively firm correctness". That is from Hexigram-2, "Receptivity". The next is: "Accept and pay attention to guidance, and be a student of life". The fourth is: "Realize peaceful and righteous persistence"--again this is from Hexigram-2--"as I endeavor to take good care of this person, with an emphasis on eating in moderation, paying special attention to sugar, peanut butter, bread, and second helpings"--We could say more about that--"with emphasis on getting good sleep regularity and following through on my commitments to the farm, to friends, to 12-Step work, and to family". And, there are 2 more; one is "Be receptive like the Earth"--this is all from Hexigram-2--"be receptive like the Earth, like a hard-working mare, like an open doorway". And then this next bit is from a poem that I love by Rumi: "Be receptive like a reed flute for Your breath"--capital "Y" like the Beloved--"like wax for the buddha-mind seal". And then the last one, the last intention for practice, is actually inspired by Dina! My dear friend!

*Catherine giggles*

It is: "To love outwardly endlessly". So, maybe that's all I'll say….In response to your first question!

*Both laugh hard*

C: That was great!

J: *giggling* good!

C: I know so much more about you! Something that I think would be interesting would be to know more about what you feel about working outside and working on the land and working on the farm.

J: Mmmm, mmmhmmm. *long pause* You're saying you don't want to know more about practice?

*Both giggle*

C: I think you're super cute but---*laughs*---I'm thinking let's delve into some different areas.

J: Yeah, we can cover some different territory, so to speak.

*Catherine laughs*

J: So…wow, my relationship with the land has changed since arriving at Green Gulch. I've always had an appreciation for the Earth, going back to when I was a kid, I loved being outdoors. My family de-emphasized small screen media…like, I definitely watched movies growing up, but there was a cap on the amount of television time I had during the day. We had a swimming pool, I was obsessed with catching bugs, all things outdoors--that was my playground, was the forest behind my house. And then, when I got a little older I went to a summer camp in Estes Park, Colorado! Holla!

*Catherine giggles*

And so for a month every year I developed a sense of awe…and a big part of my soul felt connected to the mountains, because that was my safe haven for…I think I was a camper there for five years, during some really difficult summers in my life, and so it was---I mean that place formed me in really important ways. Maybe one of the most important ways it informed me was in giving me an appreciation or the Earth that I wouldn't have had. So, I see that coming up at Green Gulch, like the difference between my office job, where I had two huge computer screens in my face all day--I would have a head-ache going home at the end of work. And then ironically, in order to escape from the headache or feeling drained at the end of the day--in order to soothe myself--I would watch Netflix, which is another screen. So, my exposure to nature was limited. And, now, I spend the vast majority of my time outdoors--the vast majority of my waking hours outdoors. Like I said, from 9:00 to at least 4:15, 4:30--hands firmly planted in the Earth, and getting sweaty underneath the sunshine, or more often, muffled in the mists of this North Bay Green Gulch valley. 

Something that's maybe unique to this summer and to this internship is this subtle attunement to the weather, feeling---certainly earlier in the summer--my mood would reflect the environment around me. On sunny days, high-energy, and on cloudy days, more mellow vibes. Certainly, that's true because I'm working on the lettuce team. There are three of us: It's Emila, the farm elder; and Zach, who's a staff member, he was an apprentice last summer; and myself. Because lettuce is so sensitive to sunshine, to direct sunlight, on the mornings that the sun was not shrouded by cloud we were hustling. I mean we would ramp our production up like three-times as quickly on sunny days, so really my material reality, like the way that I would think and act, was dictated by the weather. And continues to be.

Another thing I would say is that the same awe that I would have of mountains in Colorado I have for the generative power of the Earth. I feel, at this point, minimally involved in food production. Even though I know that without the work that the farm crew does there would be no produce--like, we wouldn't have anything to hand over to customers at a farmers' market. We really do--I don't even know the percentage…it's…we do a fraction of the work involved in creating the substance, in creating the value. It's more like we arrange, we do the logistics. Like, we'll do transport, we'll make sure the seeds get to the right place and that they get watered…but the Earth! The Earth and the sky and the sunshine, that is where all of the power is coming from, that is where the real creativity happens…and it's astounding. I mean we are just flooded by produce. We're hustling to process the quantity of greenery that is overflowing--like, it's flooding us--out of our fields. I have no idea how that happens. I don't really understand, still, how a seed that is so tiny can create ears of corn, or a chard plant from which we harvest for weeks. So, that's miraculous and mysterious.

C: Can you see yourself doing farming work if you were to leave Green Gulch?

J: I can, yeah. I thought about this because there are some people on this apprenticeship crew--the 2016 season--that think like farmers, and I'm recognizing that while I have a lot to offer as a member of this crew, I don't think the way that a farmer thinks…yet, at least. I think it comes naturally to some of the people that I work with. But I do derive great--I mean immense--joy from this labor. I don't know if I would want to be the captain of a farm, like lead that initiative solo, but I could be a partner in a farm endeavor, for sure. I would really like that…because there's something about the manual labor, about working really hard, and getting sweaty with a crew of other people, and being outdoors all day…totally invested in a cause I care about, which is creating food, which is an essential need--for all forms of life, but specifically humans, supporting healthy human life in a way that is healthy for my body. It's exercise, so I'm taking care of this person in a way that's sustainable for the planet. It's organic, it's…we're not using very many--well, any--chemicals. No pesticides, minimal amounts of machinery, and that's important to me too. So, yeah, if there were an opportunity to work on an operation like Green Gulch--in that it's a small, organic farm--elsewhere, then yes. I could totally see myself doing this.

C: Would you say…Im curious if you can identify certain passions that you have.

J: Mmmm. Yeah, I mean, I can. I have…are you just making sure that it's still working?

C: Yeah, usually I do the interview for about 45 minutes…so that's 9 more minutes.

J: Cool, ok.

C: *laughs* Go! *laughs* It's so great! It's so great.

J: Passions! Yeah, I'm passionate about this practice! I…*pause* it has been transformative for me. I feel…*pause* like I've come back to life--in living at Green Gulch and working here--in a way that I didn't think was possible. For so much of my life I was…numb. To myself, and to how I felt, to my emotional life. I didn't feel like who I was was acceptable, and so I was constantly finding ways to repress difficulty, and keep my head above water…and present as a very happy, successful person. Through meditation and Zen Buddhist practice at Green Gulch I feel awakened to all of myself, and I feel a capacity for intimacy with other people that I did not know that I was capable of. And I am so passionate about honoring…I am so passionate about helping other people help themselves, in a way that---like, if there are kids out there, or if there are adults out there, that are struggling in any way similar to how I was struggling, and if they find their way into this community, then yeah I want to help them in a way that I wish someone had been like, "Jack! Let me help you!" It's difficult because I think, on the one hand, getting from where I started to where I feel now is the kind of journey that an individual has to choose for themselves, and it's the effort an individual has to make alone. And by alone I mean that they have to make the decision to show up for this work again and again and again. And it goes without saying, none of what I did happened independently. All of it was through the support of family and friends and the Green Gulch community…and infinite causes and conditions, literally. I can't name the all. But, yeah, I feel passionate about helping people with the tools that helped me--with mindfulness, with 12-step programs, with Zen Buddhist practice--through Dharma, essentially. Because I've seen…it transformed me and I have no doubt that it will help other people. So, I feel passionate about that.

I feel passionate about continuing to do this work with myself, which I have a feeling is going to last until the day that I die, and maybe into infinite future lifetimes *laughs*. There's this quote that goes…Wait! Let me get out my (journal).

C: Ok.

J: *sighs*…It's by Winston Churchill.

C: Ok.

J: I quote this a lot! *giggle*

C: Ok! *giggle*

J: Let's see…"Every day you make progress, every step maybe be fruitful, yet there will stretch out before you an ever-lengthening, ever-ascending, ever-improving path. You know you'll never get to the end of the journey, but this, so far from discouraging, only adds to the joy and the glory of the climb". Yeah, I feel passionate about continuing to study myself. And to open myself to myself and to other people, to walking the path of practice, essentially. And I feel really passionate about love!

C: Mmmhmmm!

J: I feel like that has been the key to transformation for me. Like learning to accept myself unconditionally, and learning to love other people without condition. Like, whoever you are and whatever you're doing with me, I will love you. Period. So, when I heard that--this came from Dina too--this idea that, yeah, there are difficult situations and there are people who are hard to work with, but, one: who is it who's really hard to work with? Is it the actual person? Or is it my own internal landscape and what I'm projecting into that person, and what's coming up for me is difficult? So that is a pivot that never occurred to me, and that's why it's a practice of self-love. Because I'm learning to be spacious and gracious with the parts of myself that I hate or reject or find difficult--and project into other people. So, she introduced me to that pivot, and then to the notion of love, period. Love, no matter what. 

And, practicing that put all of my religious exposure into a new context. Like, looking at The Bible now, and being like, "Oh! Jesus wasn't fucking around" He was serious! And I've met people that do this practice, and their lives are changed…and it's the same thing with the Bodhisattva precepts, or with all of Dharma. This practice of love has made me realize that if you actually try to exercise the admonitions and encouragements of these spiritual sages--all of our ancestors--it works! With time, my edges have softened. I feel a tenderness and care for myself that I didn't a year ago when I arrived here. I feel an acceptance and an inclusion…I keep coming back to this word--an intimacy with other people, a dependence--an interdependence with other people--that I did not feel before this. I feel very passionate about continuing to do that work and to open to my life, and to open to love, unceasingly.

C: Good, that's great. Yeah! We're at 45 minutes.

J: Nice!

C: Well, I try not to go past 45 minutes because it takes me like…

J: Forever?

C: …three-times as long to transcribe it.

J: Yeah

C: So…*laugh*

J: Great!

C: But thank you very much!

J: Thank you, Catherine! Always nice spending time with you!

C: Yes! Always nice spending time with you!

J: Thanks for doing this project.

C: You're welcome.

J: Yeah, I'm so excited to read everyone else's interview.

C: I'm excited for you to read them too, because they're all marvelous.

Polaroid taken of Jack at Singing Frogs Farm

The Five Skandhas

"What a voyage this has been,
This life of mine!
Every hour I wake, to find some new blossom,
Hanging in the trees over my head!
Blossoms the shape of clouds,
Blossoms the shape of fire,
Blossoms the shape of love.
All that has already passed away,
And all that is still to come,
On this long strange road."

--Clive Barker

Flower of the Week:

Red Quinoa, growing on the farm. Not really a flower (I don't think)...but look at how lovely it is!

Buddhist Lesson of the Week:

The Five Skandhas

Beautiful field of squash growing on the farm

When the Buddha attained enlightenment, he made a choice: although he could have easily continued to live a life of unrestrained awareness, entirely unto himself, he decided to share his insights with those the wounded and suffering world so that all beings may be liberated. The first teaching of The Buddha was of The Four Noble Truths (there is suffering, there is a cause of suffering, there is the cessation of suffering, and the path to that cessation is The Eightfold Path); the second was The Five Skandhas. The Five Skandhas are also known as The Five Aggregates. They comprise the entirety of our realized existence, but are themselves inherently empty. One of the aims of meditation and practice is to realize the emptiness of each Skandha, thus realizing the emptiness of our experienced reality. It is one of the primary teachings in The Heart Sutra that Avalokiteshvara gave to Shariputra: the emptiness of everything we experience, of everything we are. It is not entirely easy to understand the Skandhas and what their emptiness means, I think. I took a five-week course on the Skandhas, followed by a six-week class on the Heart Sutra, and I am still not entirely clear on what it all means all of the time (sometimes I feel clarity, only for it to be forgotten). I definitely find it hard to remember to meditate on them. Nonetheless, I will try my best to explain them now, but briefly. The Five Skandhas are: form, sensations, perceptions, formations, and consciousness.

Form: Our immediate sense perceptions, our experience

Sensations: Our mind and body's reaction to the sense perceptions

Perceptions: Categorizing, naming, and recognizing the sense perceptions

Formations: Action in regards to the sense perceptions, or volition, or where karma exists

Consciousness: The awareness that you are aware
*More or less*

Pumpkin growing on the farm

The idea is that if you look at any one of the Skandhas, you realize it is nothing. It is only the manifestation of everything it is not, just like everything else. I realize that sounded rather esoteric; it is, I think, a rather esoteric meditation, so it is hard for me to describe it otherwise. I think that, essentially, if you think about the image you are seeing, right now, as you read this, it begins to become nothing. The fact that you realize it as something that you are perceiving, outside of yourself, helps differentiate it as something separate from yourself. Your vision is no longer "you", it is separated as the manifestation of light and your eyeballs and your optic nerve and the cones and rods in your eyes. It is the realization that that image is imperfect as a representation of reality anyways, because your brain flips the image right-side up, after it had already been flipped upside down by the lens in your eye, and then broken up and processed by our menial variety of light-receptive cells. We cannot see light outside of the spectrum provided to us from our rods and cones, we cannot see things that our eyes cannot reach, we cannot see what is beyond our immediate scope. Although, for most of our existence, we do not separate what we see from where we are or what we are, as soon as you begin to look at the actuality of even that one sense perception, you see it as only a very small part of you, of your experience, of the potential of understanding provided to you from your minute position and understanding in the universe. 

We can think about what we see, when we do see: we look at an object, and our mind immediately labels it (most of the time). Your eyes take in images of chairs, tables, floorboards, plaster walls, computer pixels, your friend Steven, your own hands on the keyboard, and it immediately labels all of those things as such. We do not need to consciously do so. Where do those names come from? Where does that innate need in us to label things come from? What actually is that table? When we see that table, we only see it as it exists now (and even then to a limited capacity); we do not see its wholeness. We do not see the tree that grew and then was cut-down to create the wood; we do not see the lumber mill where it was processed; we do not see the factory worker who assembled the cardboard box it was shipped in; we do not see the Ikea floor attendant who stacked it on the shelf in the store; we do not see the carbon and phosphorous and other miscellaneous elements relating in a rigid manner to create a solid entity...and so on. 

How do I interact with that table? With the people around the table? Where does that volition to act and say such things come from? Where do the words that I used to speak such thoughts come from, both within history and within my own mind? 

How does this neural network, this dense coalition of cells efficient at organizing electrical impulses, this mash of gray matter in my skull, how does it all work? Why does it feel the need to identify and understand, to feel and respond, to react? What does any of it have to do with life? With the world? With the enormity of the universe?

Anyways, if we look at any aspect of life, it can easily be broken down into an aggregation of different thoughts, different questions, different understandings, all of them dependent on so many other factors, most of which we cannot really understand ourselves. Buddhists chose to look at just five of those aggregations, however long ago. If all this lesson does is spur more questions and more confusion, then that's kind of a good thing; it's kind of the point, I think.

Investigate for yourselves what it means to be alive and feeling! If you'd like to do such a thing, that is.

Beautiful field of squash on the farm

Life at the Center:

Corn growing on the farm

I did not write a post last week. I did not write a post because I did not want to. I wanted to be out in the sun, floating around the valley, doing what I pleased in the moment. It was sunny and beautiful last weekend. It was warm and vibrant, and restful and energizing. This weekend it is cold once more, but it is alright. Perhaps the exterior chill helps to highlight my inner warmth (at least for the time being).

I have many reasons to feel internally sunny this weekend, as is the case most every weekend. Even on the weekends that I'm depressed or anxious, I have something to be thankful about, many things to be thankful about. Although it is perhaps considerably self-indulgent to consistently be listing all of the many myriad magical elements that comprise the splendor that is my existence, this is MY blog, so you know, that's how it is. It is hard for me to know where to start, but I shall find a spot and then begin!

September has been designated as "Food Awareness Month" for Green Gulch Farm. This means that every day during work circle we are read out a fact, poem, quote, thought, or any other such thing pertinent to food. We are also given a theme for the week, something for us to think about as we approach our meals throughout the week. Last week's theme and intention was to consider "What is enough?" It was a good thought-exercise, I feel. It is easy to eat when you have unlimited access to food. That is not only true here, but I think of most people in advantaged countries or lifestyles. I am consistently piling way too much food on my plate, just because I can and I want to. This week I only took, at most, two bowls of food at each meal: one of the main entrees, and one of greens. When I was done with my bowls, I would really think about if I really needed or wanted more, and usually, I didn't. It was a good thing to be aware of. 

Quinoa growing foreground, corn in the
background

On most every Sunday (today being the exception) we are also going to be treated to a sustainability dinner, where the entirety of the meal is comprised of food from either the farm or local sources. The first one, and so far the only one we've had, was entirely comprised of food from the farm and garden here, except for the salt and oil used. It was delicious. Instead of it being served in the buffet-style typical of our meals here, it was served family style, at tables beautifully decorated with vibrant bouquets entirely crafted from edible plants. The ugly yellow tablecloths that characterize our dining room normally were instead covered by nice white and green tablecloths, and we ate by candlelight. It was divine, and a miraculously cozy make-over of our otherwise drab dining space. I am thankful for the hard work of everybody in my sangha who worked (and who continue to work) so hard on bringing this magic and awareness into our lives. I am thankful for the reflection offered by their hard work--the increased awareness of the complexity and enormity of the importance that food holds. It is what sustains us, continuing our lives, continuing our experiences. It can heal and, if grown and handled disrespectfully, harm. The agricultural industry is responsible for so much of the suffering on the planet, of the planet. Returning to organic agriculture is vital for not only the health of our planet, but the health of ourselves (which cannot really be separated from the health of our world and soil).

On that note, I am also thankful for the opportunity provided to our tiny community of organic farmers, gardeners, land-stewards, and chefs to meet and speak with Amigo Bob Cantisano. Amigo Bob is one of the foremost pioneers of organic agriculture in our country in the 70s, and as he described it, he just seemed to have stumbled into it all. Nevertheless, he is an incredibly important figure for our country's efforts to sustainably produce food. He helped found the CCOF (California Certified Organic Farmers), the first certifier of organic farms in the country. He also helped to write the first law on the regulations of organic farms. He has many other accomplishments on this front, and honestly, I can't remember all of them. Today he runs his own small farm, but his main work is in his day-job of being a consultant for organic farms on their organic practices and how they can make improvements to their soils, compost, and other such systems so as to be more fruitful--within the confines of organic agriculture. He gave a very inspiring talk (that I don't think he intended to be entirely inspiring, it was just him talking about his life, for the most part, in a rather casual manner). He also walked around the farm and talked to the farm and garden crews about the health and farming practices of Green Gulch, which I missed. Anyways, I am thankful for the opportunity to have met this extraordinary man and to be re-affirmed in my growing understanding that organic agricultural practices have the potential to save our lady Earth, our care-giver and home. She needs to be taken care of, too.

Sunflowers growing on the farm

Today we had our first class in a six-class series taught by the magical sage Wendy Johnson, as well as Qayyum, the charming and somewhat enigmatic farm manager. The class is "Buddhism and Ecology", and it's going to be an entirely grounding class, in many senses of the word. It is difficult for me to fully articulate just how lovely and whole Wendy is--she speaks in poetry, and every sentence she speaks teaches me more about myself and the world. That is not an over-exaggeration. She is a wonder of our world, and she herself continuously is in wonder at our world. She loves so clearly, honestly, and without pretense. She expresses her appreciation for the world in it's entirety, the good with the bad, and teaches how the bad can highlight the good. I cannot wait to see what insights both she and Qayyum will provide on how to use our practice in action, on how to love the Earth as a being and realize it's interconnected nature (which is what Ecology is, after all, but just a more science-y way of doing so). I am thankful to have the opportunity to grow and learn under Wendy's teachings and reverence. 

Three farm cuties: Max, Dominic, and Steven

But, most of all, I am thankful for some of my dearest loves coming to visit me this past week! It has been quite the whirlwind of visitors for this gal right here. On Thursday evening I was treated to a delightful visit from Rachel Irons and Luke Leone. Rachel and I lived together in college, and then moved to Hawaii together for a little bit. Luke and I grew up in the same town, but didn't really become friends until he moved to Boulder--where I went to college--and became friends with all of my friends. It was so lovely to see the both of them. They have spent the summer hiking the PCT and were just done with Burning Man when they came to see me. They helped me in the garden, and we took a lovely walk to the beach, and they enjoyed some dinner (fennel lasagna, that crafty kitchen). On Friday I was able to see Rachel again for about an hour (she surprised me!) and I was able to meet her lovely friend Sam as well. Rachel and Luke gave me the gifts of chocolate, potato chips, and beer (shhh), all of which have been appreciated immensely.

Yesterday, Saturday, I got to see Billy Gordon. Billy is also a friend of mine from Boulder. He lives in Anchorage, Alaska, currently (where he grew up), and is on a road trip on the way to Colorado, where he and I will attend the wedding of two of our best friends, Dana Shier and Jordan Breakstone, in a couple of weeks. Billy and I walked through the farm and garden, hung out at the beach, and then climbed the Tree of Liberation (not a euphemism). He had lunch here, and we went and sampled some beverages from The Pelican Inn. He also gave me a wonderful gift--a guide for learning how to speak the language of Klingon (from Star Trek, if for some reason you don't know). I had a serious discussion with Juniper about how I feel like I should learn Klingon (because, you know, why not?) and here Billy comes and provides for me such an opportunity. Friends make your dreams come true, it turns out.

The lovely Miss Duras

I am so undeniably grateful for all of them in my life, and that they would make the effort to come and visit me in my little ole monastic valley. They are beautiful beams of light that came and entered my life and revived me a bit. I am feeling so happy and confident right now! And I think that that is mostly because of the love of my friends, coming to listen to me and to share their own lives a bit. I love them so much! SO MUCH!

This past week I had the absolute pleasure to interview Duras Ruggles, a second-year farmer, for the "Get to Know a Farm/Garden Apprentice" segment (below). I found her interview to be insightful, poignant, and very endearing. I hope you all enjoy getting to know Duras a little bit more as much as I did!

Book of the Week:

Dietland by Sarai Walker

Dietland is very similar to Fight Club, if Project Mayhem was a feminist terrorist organization intent on highlighting the inherent misogyny rampant in our culture. The protagonist is a 300-pound woman named Plum who works for a Seventeen-like magazine, who is struggling with her weight and feeling uncomfortable with who she is. Surrounding Plum and her struggles is the terrorist actions of "Jennifer", who works to make rapists, misogynists, and all people and organizations who use women as objects pay for their own form of terrorism against women. It is compelling, albeit violent, of course. At the root, I found it to be entirely empowering as a woman to read this, and to journey with Plum on her path to loving herself and accepting her body in its entirety. I found that my own confidence in myself and my body was heightened through the reading of this book. I would be interested to see what intelligent and thoughtful men would think about this book, if they were to read it, and if they would find it as impactful for themselves.

Song of the Week:

"In the Kitchen"--Umphrey's McGee

I really got into this song my Freshman year of college. It felt pertinent. It still feels pertinent. It reminds me of the times when I was depressed, and how I always knew there was a better way to live. 

It was cold in the kitchen and the lights were low

As winter slowly stumbled home.

The air felt different and it started to show

As every breath resembled smoke.

I was short on opinions and I wanted to know

If you'd still be here tomorrow.

'cause it was cold in the kitchen and the lights were low

As winter wrapped around Chicago.

The T.V.'s on too much,

And I don't ever think enough

About the things that matter most,

And what could make me old.

And there's no argument

For wasting time much better spent

Complacently replacing a melody with smoke.

I don't expect a smile when I get home.

The blankets that I stole should keep you warm.

I hope you never find to fill the hole.

I'm further from the source to feel the floor

It was cold in the kitchen and the lights were low

As winter slowly stumbled home.

The air felt different and it started to show

As every breath resembled smoke.

Get to Know a Farm/Garden Apprentice: Duras Ruggles

This past week I had the absolutely delightful pleasure of spending a portion of one of my evenings talking to the lovely Duras Ruggles. She is insightful, thoughtful, poignant, and, at times, wonderfully fantastical. This interview offered only a sample of the intelligence, whimsy, and fortitude that Duras embodies, but I feel like it's a rather good sample indeed.

Catherine: Ok, Hi

Duras: Hi Catherine

C: I'm with Duras Ruggles. Duras, could you tell me what you do at Green Gulch?

D: In terms of the work that I do?

C: Yep

D: I am a second-year farmer. When I first came here I worked in the kitchen for a couple of months, and then I fell in love with the farm, left, came back, and was a farm apprentice for a year. I did two Practice Periods this winter, and now I'm back as a staff-ish person.

C: *giggle* And…what brought you to Green Gulch in the first place?

D: I dropped out of college, studying physics, because I was extremely depressed, and I needed to do something different, and I remembered that I used to love meditation. And I was very fortunate that I lived in the area, and I knew about Green Gulch. And I stayed for two weeks, experimentally, and those two weeks were very influential. I knew it was a place of of change.

C: And did you have any sort of farming or gardening experience or anything prior to working here?

D: I am a tree-person in general

C: Ok!

*both giggle*

D: I am a dirty…tree…person

*both laugh*

D: And I took an organic farming class with Wendy Johnson at College of Marin, and I worked at a nursery in Marin for a while, and was being trained to be the buyer for the edibles section, so I had experience with edible plants in that area.

C: Did you take the class with Wendy before you moved here?

D: In between the kitchen and the farm.

C: Hmmm. How long of a gap was that?

D: Less than a year, but not by much.

C: Hmm. And you grew up in the area?

D: No…

C: No?

D: I grew up in Portland and in Austin and kind of here.

C: What does that mean? Kind of here?

D: Well I'm not sure…in a sense I grew up here, but I was already teenaged when I moved here.

C: Oh. Do you have a favorite? Between Portland, Austin, and here?

D: My experience is different of each one, because I was a teeny-tiny child in Portland, a medium-sized child in Austin *giggle*, and a large child in California. I had the most diverse experience in California, so I'm going to say that's my favorite, but I feel like I haven't gathered enough data to reach a conclusion.

C: *giggles* Do you have any plans for your life after…just…right now!

*both giggle*

D: I want to remain flexible with whatever may appear. It will probably appear before me beyond what I can conceive of at the moment, but I have so many dreams and aspirations! I might go back to college and instead of studying physics, study soil science, because it is incredibly important for us and our planet to take care of the soil. More than important. Vital. I also might not go back to college and become more of an educator and advisor in terms of sustainability, soil health, perhaps herbal medicine. And, more immediately, I want to work for Outward Bound, which is a backpacking organization for teenagers. I'm also interested in combining therapy with community gardens, I think that's a perfect pair…and there are tons of other ideas, like being an emergency medic or a circus performer.

*Catherine giggles*

D: We'll see what happens.

C: Do you have any favorite parts of Zen? Or, why Zen in particular? Why Zazen? Zen.

*both giggle*

D: And then I just sit here silently.

C: Yeah!

*both laugh*

D: It's very grounding, it makes a lot of sense. It's open to all of the philosophies and spiritualities and religions that I know of…you can incorporate them into Zen. I'm a very airy person, and very colorful and creative, so it's good for me to be reigned into just simple, here, eyes open. It's the perfect practice for me, personally. And I've found it's given me grounding to live my life in a healthy way. And I have a lot of faith in the sitting, especially after doing two Practice Periods and seeing what happens to my psychology after sitting silently for seven days, and more. I think that there's a lot of transformative power in that. So, that's why Zen, in this moment.

C: Hmm. Would you describe yourself as a Buddhist?

D: Well, I practice Buddhism. I'm taking the precepts (to become lay-ordained). I would describe myself as a Buddhist in the sense of Buddhism as a philosophy and a lifestyle. I'm not a religious person, although I am spiritual. So, in conclusion, yes *giggles* I would describe myself as a Buddhist.

C: So…and if you don't want to answer my questions, you can just not answer them.

D: Ok. Feel free to ask very challenging…personal…I'll answer all of your questions.

*both laugh*

C: Ok! So, when you describe yourself as a spiritual person, what does that mean to you?

D: That's a good question. The question "What does it mean to be a spiritual person?"…the sense I get of that question is…water *moves hands in a flow-y manner, like water* It is very…relative…and I don't think it really has a fixed definition. For me, it just means I speak to a feeling I have about life and my existence that is a sort of direction and purpose in a sense. Purpose is another thing we could talk about for a long time….but just my own purpose, and how I interact with myself and others. And this could all be viewed as not spiritual at all, it's just trying to be a good person and improve. But there's just this very nature-based devotion to the miracle of life that I think would be my spirituality.

C: Do you believe in karma and reincarnation, and those kinda elements of Buddhism, would you say?

D: It depends on what you mean by "believe". I don't think I really believe in anything…but also somewhere in the back of my head, I do believe in those things *laughs* It might not be my choice what I  believe. So, in that sense I do believe in karma and reincarnation. Not exactly as some people think of it. It's not like I might get reborn as a fox, or if I do this, then this will happen. It's more encompassing of the inconceivability of how things actually work. I think it's a lot more complex than the kind of linear way that we tend to think of things.

C: So why do you not think you have a choice…or what did you say? Not have a choice in what you believe? Is that what you said?

D: Yeah

C: Yeah

D: Well, I was thinking of it as…I have a belief system that comes from my sub-conscious and it's from how I was raised, and my environment--and my belief system I think is an automatic response from all of that. So, over time I think that I can change what I believe, but I think that would be a long process. I can have ideas, and thoughts, and feelings, but my definition of belief in this moment is…not a conditioned response.

C: Do you think you're having studied physics has any sort of impact on your spirituality?

D: Hmmm, well I've always been a very scientific and spiritual person. I never wanted to combine them somehow…I think they co-arose and impact each other.

C: How did you choose to study physics in the first place?

D: I love outer space!

C: Ok

D: Physics was the first thing you study before moving on to something more specific…which is…astrophysics, or something like that. I was going to decide where to branch off after studying just physics, because it's a long process of getting to those places. But it turns out I like being outside. I need to be outside for my well-being.

C: Hmmm, what does that mean?

D: Mmmm. Well perhaps I could overcome it, but it seems at this moment that I need to work with my physical body in the natural world in order to have sanity and mental stability.

*both laugh*

C: What do you like about outer space?

*Both laugh*

D: I just…there's a part of me that just wants to explore the universe, and expand people's minds. I think that the universe is so much more complex than what anybody thinks, or what anybody is aware of right now. When I think about the universe in terms of astral bodies and dimensions and all of those manners of things, I just get this golden bubbly feeling…and I don't know why!

C: *giggles* Do you think there is potential for extra-terrestrial life forms?

D: I think it would be insane to think that there is not.

C: Why is that?

D: Because statistically speaking, or just thinking for a second about how the universe is infinitely huge, beyond space and time, it's pretty obvious that there are lifeforms everywhere. And, also, that they don't have to be carbon-based life forms as we know it. They could be ammonia based. They could be in a spectrum that we can't see. Did you hear that our closest neighboring star has a planet in the habitable zone, that they're considering could maybe be our next home if we mess everything up?

C: *laughs* Yeah!

D: *laughs* I hope we don't

C: Yeah. Well, that's fun…I kind of know this about you already…which is why I thought to segue to this question next, but what kind of books do you like to read?

D: I used to have a debilitating addiction to fantasy. So, I'm trying to avoid that right now, because if I start reading good fiction, or fantasy, or sci-fi novels, I won't do anything. But right now I'm loving reading about herbology, natural plant medicine, permaculture, biomimicry, wilderness survival. There's a book I'm reading about horses and spirituality

*both laugh*

D: And, a little bit of poetry, and…I'm not looking at my bookshelf, so I can pull it out of my mind. I could just read the names of the books off my bookshelf

*both laugh*

D: I'm reading some Zen books too. Let's see, what else…oooh, oooh, I've been reading Women Who Run with the Wolves lately, and that's just really great.

C: What's that?

D: It's a collection of stories about powerful feminine archetypes that are in touch with their wild power.

C: Hmmm, cool. Archetypes, like throughout legends and myths? Or how they exist today?

D: Well, mostly I've been reading about so far is the author's rantings, I suppose, on these things. She has this beautiful poetry, poetic energy, that makes you feel like you have some sort of female wolf-beast coming out of you...

*Catherine giggles*

D: …and I think that's really helpful for women to get in touch with their true self, and what is their femininity

C: What does "feminine" mean to you?

D: It means…I have a vagina, and….that't it

*both giggle*

C: Cool, cool

D: I've been thinking a lot about gender, and I'm not really sure how to really go into that

C: Hmm, yeah, because there could be feminine men, too

D: Yeah. I have been thinking that there's no such thing as feminine and masculine energy at all, it's just that there's biologically male and female bodies--except for people who don't quite fit into that--and then there's energy "A" and energy "B", which over hundreds and hundreds of generations has co-evolved with us so that we think that energy "A" is predominantly "woman" and energy "B" is predominantly in men, because of cultural conditioning over thousands of years. But actually, it's just energies that are independent of the biological body

*both laugh*

C: You think just two energies?

D: Well, it could be a spectrum

C: Mmhmmm

D: It could be one energy that expresses itself dramatically

*both laugh*

C: Mmhmmm. So you, I think, are a very creative person. What are your favorite outlets, would you say? This could be throughout your life, or right now, or both, or neither, and answer completely differently…

D: I've always really liked visual art and music and many other things, but those are the two things I do the most right now. I'm trying to learn bass right now. Oh! and poetry too, and writing in general. And, I've recently gotten into body movement. Contact improv is sooo good.

C: Could you talk more about contact improv?

D: Ok.

*Catherine giggles*

D: Hmmm…it's another way to get out of your thinking mind, and into your body, which is especially good for people like me who are very much in the cloud-space, to get out of the cloud-space and into the physical form. And also interact with another person, because you maintain a point of physical contact with another person the entire time, essentially. There aren't really any rules, it's very improvisational…and there's a space you get into when you're doing it. It's very hard to lie. Have you ever done any improvisational anything?

C: Ummm I've done a little improv comedy, but not very recently.

D: Hmmm, I'm trying to find a way to describe the feeling of doing improvisational physical movements, with no music or talking or anything. You start just by rolling around on the floor *giggles* and then rolling around on the walls, and then rolling around on other people. It really breaks down all of the walls that you have, and I've found it to be the most therapeutic thing that I've done yet.

C: Really?

D: Mmhmm.

C: How long have you been doing it?

D: Not very frequently, but a few months.

C: Ok, and when you go, is it the same group of people there usually or is it usually kind of different?

D: Usually it's people I don't know.

C: Uh-huh. Why is it so therapeutic for you?

D: *long pause* You really find your weaknesses when you're doing it, and you're really pushed to move beyond them, on a dime. It's really good intimacy training as well--being with another person, and interacting with them beyond the thought realm, and for me, I like it to not be sexual. And…hmmm…yeah, this one's really hard to describe. Maybe one day I'll write something about it. It might be abstract too, because this is something that is kind of beyond verbal.

C: Mmmm

D: But if this sounds intriguing, I know there are many people who have written about this, about contact improv. There are some books.

C: Hmmm, ok. What kind of visual art do you do?

The first piece of art mentioned

D: Mmmm, I made that thing *points to drawing on her wall*

C: Oh, that's nice! Is that drawing? And...I can't tell what medium that is.

D: It started as pencil and then pen, and then watercolors, and then I glued some real butterfly wings on it.

C: Oh! 

*Duras giggles*

C: Yeah, I really like that. Maybe I'll come back and take a photo of that so people know what we're talking about when they read this.

D: Oh, and there's also the mushroom fairy over there.

C: Oh yeah! It's mostly…drawing, that you do?

D: Mmmhmmm. I made my intention board, over there, the other day. It's not…an art display.

*Both laugh*

C: Do you do that every month?

D: I have been doing it the past few months, and I am very different now, since I've begun.

C: Really?

The mushroom fairy!

D: Mmhmmm. For example, just like….I'm trying not to use the word "like".

C: It's okay, I edit it out….most of the people use the word "like", and I edit it out.

*Both giggle*

D: Ummm, for example, the food that I put into my body, before the intentions I put pretty much anything into my body. And now, I'm a vegan who also doesn't eat gluten or sugar or caffeine…and I've been on caffeine since the seventh or eighth grade, and I am caffeine-free now, as of the past few months, and it has been…mmmmm, yeah, just the way your experience changes when you are able to control what you put into your body. You don't have so many waves. You can actually just be a natural, energetic, human being. I think that food is responsible for most of the mental health problems in the modern world.

C: Really? How so?

D: With processed food in particular. I've noticed it personally through my experience, as well as observing it through other people's experiences, and just thinking about how we evolved as a society with food, and looking at what the average person puts into their body, and looking at the ways that it really does affect your brain chemistry, your gut flora. 80%, approximately, of your serotonin lives in your gut. It used to be that when I ate gluten my gut serotonin would get all messed up, and it would be that every time I would get so angry, and exhausted, and depressed, whenever I ate gluten.

C: Wow.

D: And sugar does crazy things to your energy and your moods. And processed food does who-knows-what.

*Both chuckle*

D: And so if you're putting this stuff into your body year after year after year, it just kind of makes sense that, yeah, you are going to have a hard time.

C: Yeah your body and your brain are all connected, because your brain is your body!

D: They say that your gut is your first brain. And this brain *points to skull* is just a collection of neurons that we're all fascinated by, but is not a big deal.

C: Mmmmm. Hmmm, that's an interesting perspective. With your intentions…have you noticed any other changes with the intentions you've set this past month, besides the food intentions? *awkward pause* That was a very inarticulate question

*Duras giggles*

C: Ummm….I guess I'm just curious what some of your other intentions have been, beside your food ones.

D: Mmmhmmm. Well, I've had an OCD behavior since the seventh grade called dermatillomania that I'm really trying to not do anymore. It's taken a lot of time and a lot of patience, but that's one of the intentions. I mess with my skin, pretty much, is what that is.

C: Hmmm.

D: And…ummm….another one is more on an emotional level, trying to feel more deeply. I have many walls put up against intimacy and allowing myself to feel emotions fully…and I'm putting a real effort into feeling all of the emotions all the way through, and enjoying that journey. Or, maybe not enjoying that journey, but really experiencing that journey fully. And engaging with strangers, with more active curiosity.

C: Yep, that's good for Green Gulch.

D: *polite giggle* and…writing every day, and time awareness. Increasing time awareness. There are a few different ways of doing that. And….

*both giggle*

D: And I feel like the core of most of these intentions is not wasting any of the time in my life, and not procrastinating any of my life away. Some people kind of waste--not waste, but don't fully utilize--every moment in their life, and I think that's very tragic, and I would like to not do that, because I see it in myself all of the time.

C: What do you think happens when you die? When we die?

D: In terms of this physical body, or the like….I know what question you're asking. Ok, ok.

C: We could talk about that, sure, whatever you want to talk about!

*Duras laughs*

D: The body goes into the soil and is eaten by microorganisms and inflates and smells bad!

*Both laugh*

D: Well, again, I don't want to have firm beliefs about anything. But somewhere down there I do have this kind of semi-belief that we have the energetic bodies---oooh, this is going to sound really hippy...

C: Ok!

*Both laugh*

D: Ummm *pause* well, first of all, maybe we just enter the infinite eternity of nothingness, and we're all this mass consciousness expressing itself in a big multi-dimensional program, or experience...

C: Mmmhmm *giggle*

D: ...which could also be true, that there's one "soul"--in quotation marks--that is a trunk of a tree, and there are all these branches and all these leaves. And each person is a leaf on this tree. And when you die, the leaf falls off, which is your body, but then your energetic self just rejoins the branches. And perhaps that energetic self has memory and, as with everything, there is constant evolution and change---and that memory decides where to go to in its next evolution and change. And perhaps in our existence in this realm we lose contact with that memory, and we become confused, simple organisms of desires and suffering. Except for some of us! I've met many people who have some sort of contact with that energy and those memories, and I think that somewhere I do have a belief that all of that is real.

C: Hmmm

D: Mmmm, yeah!

C: *chuckles* That's a good answer! Do you think that….ah, I don't know, I feel like these are leading questions, because I'm thinking about my own beliefs when you're talking about this stuff. So, I guess I'm just curious to see if your thoughts align at all (with mine), or if there's difference.

D: We could just talk.

C: Yeah.

D: Yeah!

C: But *laughs* part of the reason I wanted to do these interviews for my blog is that I talk so much about myself through my blog, that I just get tired of it. So I just want to talk about other people

D: Mmmm

C: *laughs* That's why I'm not sharing very much right now. I just want to get to know you.

D: Oh gosh.

C: *laughs* Ummm, what was I going to say? Oh! Do you think that thoughts on death have brought  you to any sort of desire or awareness within your own life to--I guess I can share this--I've been thinking a lot about death. I think that just comes with maybe being alive, and maturing, and living at a Buddhist Zen center and meditating many hours a day. But I've just been feeling this very--since moving here--I've always thought about death, but since moving here I've had this really urgent sense of: life is going to end, and I'm going to end, and that's real. And so, when you were describing how you no longer want to procrastinate…I've been feeling that way more urgently lately, just because of the juxtaposition of death, just right there. Anyways, I was just wondering if you have any sort of feelings or thoughts around such things, like that.

D: I have always thought about death. Even when I was a little kid. Maybe it was my spiritual upbringing, or maybe I was an interesting kid, I don't know. But, I've always thought a lot about death. When I was little, I really felt that I wasn't afraid of death. I was actually very excited about this prospect of old-age and death…and if I was old, and about to die, I would make it into this fun scientific experiment of what would happen to me. And I began just picturing death like "Yes! Here it comes, here it comes! I get to see what it's like on the other side now, woo!" *giggles* And I imagine perhaps when that's actually happening, I might be clinging, who knows. But I continue to think about death, and I still don't think I'm afraid of death. I am afraid of suffering, of course, and of pain--but death itself, I am not afraid of. When other people die, that is something very sad, but again, death itself, I don't' see anything wrong with that. It's just when you lose somebody you love, it's very challenging. 

When I said I came to Green Gulch because I was very depressed, I was also very suicidal. So, I was very much in that. And, I did eventually come out of it, and ever since coming out of it I've been just like, "Holy shit, wow! I survived!" I feel like it's so amazing to be alive right now, because I've been through the experience of not really wanting to be alive. And I have a lot of compassion for people who struggle with this, and I really want to support them, which is what inspired me to someday make a therapeutic garden--because the way that our society handles death is not good. We put people on drugs in white rooms and that's it. I think that death can be really beautiful, and in a lot of cultures it is really beautiful. And you can meditate on things like your sibling or your parents eventually dying, and one day…I think I'm going to live a long life, and that many of the people I know will die, before I do. And, that's something you can meditate on, to prepare yourself, but death itself is not bad. It's kind of exciting. It's kind of beautiful, if you want to think about things in that way---or empty, just like everything else. I also don't want to become too fixated on the idea of that, and obsess about it and think about it all of the time. I've been there, and I want to appreciate the current moment, which right now is life---which is especially vibrant, because right now I just feel so grateful to not be depressed *laughs*

C: Mmhmm, mmhmmm, I get that, yeah.

D: It's like, "Oh my god! I'm functioning! Woah!"

C: *laughs* Yeah, I totally get that *giggles*

D: Just not being sad is awesome *laughs*

C: Mmmhmm, mmmhmmm *chuckles* yeah

D: Are you having anything come up, on this subject of death? Now that I've gone on a rant, and I've lost where I'm going?

C: Yeah, so, this is another thing that has been interesting me. Have you ever read Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury? 

D: No

C; Well, I think you should read it. It's not science fiction so much. It is fiction, but it's only borderline fantastical. It has fantastical elements to it, but it's very real at the same time

D: Mmmhmm

C: Anyways, the protagonist of the story is a twelve-year-old boy, and at the beginning of the story it describes him realizing the first time that he's alive…like, "Oh my god! I'm alive!" Something that's been interesting to me is if people can remember that themselves. Can you remember the first moment you realized you were alive? And I guess for me, it happened right around the same time I realized I was actually going to die. But, I can't remember which one came first. I don't know, anyway, do you have any sorts of insights or recollections or memories or anything of that sort?

D: Hmmm *pause* I think I caught onto a lot of things when I was young, so I don't really have a lot of those memories. I'm not sure why that is. But *giggle* hmmm….I think that as soon as my brain was capable of philosophizing things, I concluded, "Hmmm, yes, death. Life." *laughs* "Fairies! Let's go play!"

*Both laugh*

D: So, I'm afraid I don't have those memories.

C: Yeah, that's okay.

D: I do feel strongly about de-stigmatizing words like "death", "depression", and "suicide", and having people talk about it. Because, when people think that they can't talk about it, their problems get worse. There's more suffering.

C: Mmhmmm. What are…this might not be possible…but I'm curious if you could maybe describe, to you, what it feels like to have moments where you realize that you're really alive? Could you describe any sensations or thoughts that happen?

D: There is…I'm trying to think of a specific moment, and there is one that was actually pretty recent. It was at the end of the second Practice Period, and I had just been sitting, and sitting, and sitting. And then we sat Sesshin, and Sesshin had just ended---for the readers, Sesshin is seven days of meditating while not talking to anybody--and I was riding my bike down to the farm, and I just looked around. I felt like I was on psychedelics, and I just thought, "Where am I? I am here. What is this? What's happening?"

*Both laugh*

A polaroid Jack took of Duras while touring
Singing Frogs Farm

D: I just had this really visceral, bird's eye view of an organism on a bike, on a farm, and it was blowing my mind as it was happening.

*Catherine giggles*

D: And I don't know how I can describe that. Maybe you can identify with the psychedelic feeling of just like, your bubble's popped, and you're just like *makes dramatic face and body movements*

C: *laughs* Yeah!

D: What is this flesh? Time! And you're just very in the moment, and you almost can't remember how you got there or what you're going to do, you're just here. Like a hamster.

*Both giggle hard*

C: *laughs* Sure! 

D: *giggles* But I feel like that's really being alive, when you're so in the moment that it becomes like a psychedelic experience and you're wondering what the hell's happening. I think that's really being alive---you're kind of making sense of things. I think that's you making sense of your environment and being more in the matrix of your mind…and when you get out of the matrix of your mind, into weird states, that can't possibly be put into words, that's life.

C: Ineffable! *Laughs* It's one of my favorite words.

D: Me too!

C: Yeah! Yay! *giggles* Umm, we have a minute and a half left. I'm going to bring it back to more light-hearted stuff. Do you have a favorite vegetable you like to grow on the farm?

D: Hakurei turnips.

C: That's funny, that's what Isabelle said. Why is that?

D: Because they're like apple-pear-radishes. And if you get them when they're just right, you bite into them and they're soft and juicy and sweet. 

C: Wow! I think we've had them in salads and stuff. Was that at the sustainability dinner?

D: Yeah, but they're best if you eat them like apples.

C: Hmmm, well maybe I'll have to try that sometimes. Ok, we have 37 seconds.

D: Ok.

C: Do you have 30 seconds worth of anything that you want to say?

D: I just want to say that the most important practice for us all--and it can get deeper, infinitely, no matter how good you get at it, you can always get better---and it's self-love. 

C: That. Is. Wise. Yes. I think that is something everybody needs to work on. It is very clear here, how much we all need to work on it, for sure.

D: The deeper you love yourself, the deeper you can love others.