The evenings usually start early here, what with the sun starting to go down around 5pm. Someone will cook dinner — both A– and R– are wonderful cooks who excel at effortlessly throwing together whatever menagerie of ingredients happen to be around (I held my own cooking one meal). I’ve found myself with a ravenous appetite, probably because my body is quite unaccustomed to any physical exertion beyond what was permitted being quarantined in my apartment.
Some nights, there’s a fire. In fact, I’ve begun writing this post beside a fire that I created, partly to give myself a place to type without freezing my fingers off. This particular fire was built with a dual purpose of also creating bio-char. Bio-char is charcoal that we create with the explicit purpose to sequestering carbon. The idea is that we find downed wood that would rot and be converted to CO2 in the process, and we heat it with minimal oxygen so that, instead of combusting, it undergoes pyrolysis and locks the carbon in place. We do this with a burn barrel packed tight with wood and with a fire built on top. The fire on top heats the entire barrel, but the wood underneath doesn’t get enough oxygen to combust, leaving beautiful black charcoal. The charcoal then gets used to enrich the soil and to soak up stinky smells in the outhouse (the high surface area of the wood allows it to absorb lots of smells). Saving the planet!
Several evenings thus far have also included some lovely chats with R–, who has already taught me so much, even beyond the concrete knowledge needed to build and run a project like this one. R– is unabashed in her curiosity about the people around her and regularly asks deep and meaningful questions. (Surely this is a habit that’s been honed in her practice as a therapist and in her life receiving regular guests on her property.) Maybe some would be put off by questions like “What has been your experience of grieving the state of the environment?” but they are right up my alley: cut the bullshit and get to the juicy real-talk. Through only a few conversations, R– has accelerated some of my thought processes on topics like social collapse, technology, and eating meat (believe it or not, R– is a proud meat-eater and makes a compelling case around the ethics of raising and eating animals). I’ve done a lot of thinking in my life, and it’s such a delight to have my thinking pushed in such compelling and cogent ways by the people around me. I’m still digesting a lot of this, but I’m sure bits of it will come out in my writing once I start to metabolize it all into my ever-changing worldview. In the meantime, I’ve finished reading “Man’s Search for Meaning” (and continue reading “Parable of the Sower”), which also has me thinking a lot about other aspects of existence. But of course, despite all the heady topics floating around, my daily physicality and meditation practice keep me very firmly grounded in the world around me.
Tonight, while R– was away, A– and I built a bio-char fire and ate our rice and beans around it. I feel very fortunate to have had time with A– for a long meaningful conversation. We’re pretty similar he and I, and the conversation was easy, flowing, and deep. After his time at Rainwater ends in a few weeks, he will be moving on to Asheville to start a project with some friends, creating some sort of an art collective. It sounds like a powerful choice for him, and an exciting project for me to check in on down the line. With the fire died down and the embers a dull red, A– and I agreed that we would surely meet again.
As my time at Rainwater Collective comes to a close (at least this initial visit), I am filled with gratitude to R–, A–, and the land and everyone who has contributed to it for centuries before me, for this experience. And I feel validated in this wandering path I have chosen. If I was drawn to this place, people, and experience, which have been so powerful and aligned with my values and journey, so early in my wander, then I can only imagine what more is to come. Of course, I don’t intend to spend too much time imagining the future, because the present is too lovely to miss.
