After I wrote that post last night I couldn’t sleep for hours – my mind was alive with ideas, fervent and wild. This morning I awoke from a satisfying dream including one of my best friends. We were living on an island and trying to build sustainable community. Getting closer.

My friends at Dandelion Ecovillage are having a work party this morning. I’m currently 10 miles from them, and it’s overcast and sprinkling and a little chilly, but I want to help them clear the spot for a community gathering place and for two of the first homes that will be built on the land – Zach and Shaina’s and Danny’s.

So begins Our Daily Ride, a spin off of Give us our daily bread in Jesus’ prayer. Operating on Trust and hope and love.

I will venture the 7 miles on the winding S.R. 45 and careen my way through town to the sweet nook on the west side where I’ll find my friends playing and chopping and sharing and perhaps whistling. Perhaps I’ll get a little wet, but the community is worth the venture.

I’m inspired to seek out the community I’ve been forming for the last year despite the long commute and trying weather after reading some entries from a journal from the summer of 2008, “I believe that my desires to know and be known are not necessarily greater than others, but are more laid bare. I search around every corner for someone who is like me in any way. Today I met Kafka’s disdain for self and self-consciousness. I sweep through pages written about him in any effort to find similitude” (Thursday June 5). The next day I wrote, “One evening, not unlike this one, a young woman, not unlike yourself except that her arm was weak, tied a lasso and threw it in hopes of catching the moon. Her initial desire was to lasso the sun, but she knew, or had been told, of the sun’s extraordinary shield of heat, that the simple rope, the line thrown up in desperation, inevitably would burn. So she set to tackle the moon.” And on Sunday, “I do need to rely on friends. I need to search out some friends who have the same interests as me.”

Such a mingling of hope and aching desire. The journal goes on to depict how people like me live and thrive in a “community of crazies” and that I will never find mine, but will always be the hermit:

“Me, I have no friends in this little sphere. Me, I enjoy the intricacies and quags of life alone. I laugh at inside jokes with myself, and, no, I don’t think you’re funny.”

I can hear the pain carried in relation to this- my self-conscious defenses ring out loud and clear. Being reminded of this chapter of my history on this shadowy Sunday morning in October over 3 years later is like hearing a resounding gong play through the trees outside of the windows. These same story lines have been playing in my head and heart for years! and yet, I am no longer in that space – I have found a community of crazies and this morning I am going to join them in the building of a community.

As Kim said last week as we talked over steamy tea beneath the elk’s antlers, “I don’t know if I’ll stay here all winter, but while I’m here I’m going to live each moment as just that, A Moment, and not trouble myself with wondering if I’ll stick around.”