Commodified?

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We have lived in New Mexico for 6.5 years. In May the Holy Scrap blog will be 5 years old. Neither Mikey nor me has had a real job since 2006. I just finished writing a book. Nothing is as it was when we met in New York City and determined that hustling in our respective careers, me a marketing exec and Mikey working on Wall St, was no longer the wise thing to do.

In New York we were utterly commodified. Now we are what we would once have considered money poor. We are also time wealthy, abundant and free.

For the first time since arriving in the desert I did something that commodified me. I wrote a book for a publisher. To do so I stopped living the life I created and wrote about it. Mikey can attest, I fulfilled the cliche image of manic writer tearing their hair out behind a screen, pale skinned and pimple faced from irregular eating and lack of sleep.

The book is finished. It made me notice where we are, have been, and who we are for having traveled.

This summer I've blogged less than any previous year. It was not that I was too busy writing though it is true that I was.The book took precedence over gardening, cheese making and the new project list. It turned me inward. I struggled. I prefer to struggle alone. Blogging was the wrong direction. What I share through this blog is quite naturally outward. Why? Outwardness is the direction of joy.

I didn't anticipate crossing an emotional chasm to return from the book back to the life I created in NM. I didn't realize what the life I made was composed of, things I never allowed myself while living in NY: having no set schedule; star watching in the middle of the night and taking inventory of the life in the garden each morning; saying no to distractions but for the most special things; harmonizing my particular psyche with sewing for repose, long spans of silence, noticing the small like my breath, rigorous landscaping to release tension, gardening to tenderize my heart and remind me of connection, and the blog to remind me to digest, contemplate and articulate my experiences.

Quitting your job and buying a fixer upper wont provide any of this. The formula is complicated. When we arrived in the desert we listened, trusted, and responded to things commodified life left no time for: our desire, our hearts desire, our whimsy, curiosity and play. At times we made little sense to others. We decided, "lets get rid of all the money we have as quickly as possible by buying things that have real value, things that make other things." Then we bought tools we did not even know how to use; cement mixers, power tools, kitchen tools. We gave the best of what we had away knowing the gift is the most powerful tool of all.

These decisions made us free. Freedom has a rhythm that's outside of time. One does not enter and exit it. When you are on it's wing you know it because you feel joy. Back on the ground all you can do is dream of flight. If it were easy who would care. It is easy only once you have arrived and getting there is worth every ounce of effort.

I'm not back in my life yet. I'm on the edge wanting in, remembering. But I all I need to get there is desire. And if I can not find it, well I can read my own book!