Big party at my table for one

When one is starting out as a writer and an artist, you often do so in seclusion. The stuff you do, the ideas you have are secrets you wear like a locket over your heart. Your talents are too fragile and too raw to share with others. Why invite criticism? Keeping your own counsel can do strange things to your mind. You wonder if you are going slightly crazy. You assume that nobody else thinks like you do. You are isolated.

One of the greatest gifts I have had now that I have had a book published is the stream of information (almost an avalanche) that has come my way through sources I didn't know existed. Other people who think like I do are coming forward and introducing themselves. People give me names of contacts, websites to explore. All of a sudden I am connecting dots so quickly they seem to be connecting themselves. While I anticipated that my book's release would give me more professional contacts; I had no idea that my biggest riches would come in the way of spiritual and philosophical contacts. I am starting now to lay the groundwork for a life I want to live. Before, I had ideas, but like I said--they were in isolation. These are some of the subjects I have been exploring:
the slow food movement, intentional simplicity, equality for women, sacred space--public (as in labyrinths) and private (as in personal altars), arts in the schools, conscious (eco) communities, small house movement, learning about other cultures, domestic violence and racism prevention, the natural world, yoga, earth-based spirituality, journaling.

The more I journey into these areas, the more I learn how related they are. Imagine my surprise when I was checking out a home design book online (chosen for the aesthetics and the move toward voluntary simplicity) and I found links to labyrinths. I examined the site further and found a link to a site called Cultural Creatives. I took the online quiz. It was like it was written for me. I think that before 2007 started, I really felt like my views on the world were peripheral and fringe. I didn't know why I was the way I was. Was this some sort of rebelliousness in my nature? Mutated DNA? The contacts I have made this year have given me the knowledge that my point of view is not all that uncommon. While I have never relied on the vaildation of others to move forward with my life, I do feel less fatigued. Moving with a current is much easier. 2008 will be a party!

Technology vs. Simplicity

My husband is a tech guy. He has our house wired. He makes things out of spare computer parts and these things do tricks like announce telephone callers. I would not say I am a technophobe; I'm not. I just don't like technology when there is a simpler solution. For a couple of years, on my husband's urging, I switched from a paper organizer to a PDA. We both had the same model. I was supposed to be able to beam my schedule to him. We were going to have a household synching station with a screen that displayed a common schedule. That never happened. Instead--once a month, I'd print out my calendar and give it to Mark. He would ignore the printout and ask me things like, "Don't we have something going on this week?" Now, we have a magnet wipe-off calendar that is divided by weeks. We have 8 weeks worth of family agenda, color-coded by person, on the fridge. It's the best family tip I have. Low-tech.

Still, there are things I use technology for. I do all my writing on computer. I depend on email to keep in touch. Don't try to take my digital camera away from me. But this week technology seemed against me. Computer problems. ATM card had a malfunction. Phone calls didn't go through. The sensor I have been wearing on my shoe to track my walking miles just went dead for no reason. It's been a pain.

Hubby just showed me a new camera card that automatically loads your pictures to a website over your wireless network. It sounds great, but the more I hear about the advance of technology, the more I long for simpler things: the feel of a book in my hand, a rocking chair, a hand knit scarf, warm soup in a handcrafted bowl, and a snoring dog by my side.

Mark and I have given some thought to building another house. It's probably 10 years away, but we ahve fun dreaming. I think it'll be something like Star Trek meets Little House on the Prairie.