“Revising the self-story provides the foundation for doing our life work, and for seeing our lives, whatever we choose to do, as a never-ending story.” (Christina Baldwin, Storycatchers)
I began the day, cup of hot coffee at hand, scratching the ears and loving on an affectionate Basset Hound. Now I’ve crawled back into bed for contemplative time with Jan Phillips book No Ordinary Time, a book of hours, my laptop and copies of photos from my dissertation. The dog is not mine, nor is the bed. I’m house and dog sitting for friends while they are on vacation. I’m sitting here sketching the patterns made by the evergreen tree trunks and branches for a possible quilt.
Patterns. The art in my dissertation are drawn and painted on old tissue paper patterns adhered to wood doors. I think of it as transitional art. Last weekend at the workshop with Jan Phillips, after advising “give up your story, the one we tell all the time” she asked “how do you see your experience affecting your new work?” A different way to look at “what is bringing me to creating a shared housing community” beyond my need to share resources.
I rely on community for personal support. All of the work I’ve done in the past is deeply reliant on community – including hospice, mental health, teaching sustainable business practices, and teaching psychology and human development.
The work I’m doing is transitional – wandering while researching and wondering where, with whom, and when do I want to live in community?
The Monkey Girl piece not only asks what do I stand on, it asks “what do I stand for?” Clearly I stand for holding each other up when we are wobbling, sustaining each other when we need to be fed, looking to each other for a good laugh, and trusting the patterns in our experiences can lead us to the next place we are meant to go. Rock on!
I’m not the only woman looking at sharing community.