“It’s not enough to be busy; so are the ants. The question is: what are we busy about?”

~Henry David Thoreau

So I’m practicing a bit, I guess you’d call it. Living intentionally.  Small things to some but the little things that I do with thought, that most align with what I want, gives me hope.  Following a path that creates itself as I go along.  Tiny steps. Simple living continues, from tomatoes to diy projects at home to embracing my art, my words, my community.  Remembering the radical homemakers and how they create lives out of less material, more visceral, less capitalist, more humanist.

Everything is connected.  I hired someone who happens to live in my neighborhood.  It turns out he and his wife raise ducks and often have way too many eggs.  I take some off his hands.  We talk gardening.  He shares a new foodie usergroup for the neighborhood that’s all about sharing tips, bartering, growing our own food, and more.  I join it, and just a few days later I am bartering with a new neighbor, giving him some of my serrano pepper jelly in exchange for his home roasted coffee beans that smell of pure comfort.  I share community news with him, like where to get the best fresh pasta down the street.  I close the door, and I am happy.

I’m sharing more of my words.  Not all at once, but more.  I’m shutting the hell up, trying to listen more and react less…but still keep my voice.  I’m going to find my way.


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