The dance of decomposition
It's time for spring cleaning.
If you're like me, you've seen the last few months go by and suddenly... POOF, there is green, the promise of summer, and a reminder of all new projects and opportunities. Then... ice storm. A return to darkness, to cold. Another reminder, this time of humility. For me, a forced break. A forced break that reminded me that, well... It is time to clean. Cleaning, in every way, is a work that is easy for me to put aside but that is oh, so important. And honestly, incredibly difficult to do when all I yearn for is to lay in the sun or hide under my blankets with a warm beverage.
However, this time of the year is rich in scents that are simply marvelous. The smell of things and people waking. Of wet earth, the back-and-forth of cold, the decomposing process happening under leaves that were hidden all winter. Decomposing that comes hand in hand with birth by litterally nourishing creation.
Decomposing, and cleaning. Interesting relationship between these two. The first transforms what would be 'trash' into life force that is essential for seedlings and our dear polenators. The second filters by leaving behind elements that are no longer necessary in order to keep only those that nourish. These two actions are the work of being alive at this time of the year. A moment to take a break despite the rythm of life that seems ever marching on in a demented and accelerated rythm of capitalist patriarchal machinery. All in service of what Robin Wall Kimmerrer describes as Windigo Thinking.
Speaking of cleaning and decomposing... I've had a spectacular failure at launching a project in which I was fully invested and truly believe.d in. And yes, I still do believe in this project and its value for others but.. it is time to let it deteriorate. We haven't had enough registrations to be able to bring it to life.
And at the same time, a breath.
So. A moment of decomposition and the opportunity for intellectual and spiritual cleaning. Of creating something new once the grief settled down softly. Combined with a lovely 48-hour electricity failure that reminded me of the importance of simply co-existing and leaving space for thoughts, I am hard pressed to abandon my illusions of control over these mysterious things.
And so, after some hopes and dreams falling into messy pieces, I can clean and start to notice what needs to stay, and what needs to go. And yet, I've come to the same realisation, time and time again.This is not work to be done alone. I need help. I need your help. My request is fairly straightforward but has much deeper reachings than could be expected.
Can you fill out this feedback form for me?
Can you commit to a waitlist, and commit to your own wellness by engaging in an imperfect, human relationship, full of heart and faith in the power of creativity and community? There is no obligation, here. You can absolutely wait to receive the updates on your end of things and read what has been found of the decomposition of this offer?
But what if you could be part of it?
A creative retreat where people who always help others can finally breathe, de/re/connect within nature, and dive together in the deliciousness of mythology. I am inviting you to be part of this sometimes unpleasant task that is cleaning, and to invite your people. This is an invitation to cultivate good relationship, the type that is essential to do this life's work. That is essential to dismantle the deafening machine of capitalism that is drowning out everything around us. The type that brings to our attention the songs of birds, the healing powers of darkness, and the wealth of the smell of wet dirt.
You are invited to join us in this dance.
Filling out a form is a first step, and you are not obligated to continue. But you are invited to this dance. One of body, mind, and soul reappropration. The dance of selfhood, of taking back work and labour towards the well-being of your community. Where we learn to truly listen to our partner, not to seel them more or to make a profit off of them. But to truly, really, be of service.
Let's find out what are the sounds of this dance of decomposition. What are dance steps of cleaning look like. The joy of spring.
Who would have thought that a form could hold so much?