i made dirt.

This weekend I tried to make a semi-secluded corner in the yard by putting up trellissy stuff and planting mandevilla (it’s the first step of many, I imagine) and a couple of zinnias. The soil back in that corner looked like it had been in some sort of war zone, so the approach that usually works in this yard – dig a hole, put something in it, wait for that something to grow into a monstrosity – seemed a bad idea. [As a side note: one of the added features of a house that stays uncared for over a few years is that the dirt gets amazing, full of dead stuff and nutrients. I think this is why everything grows huge and ungainly here. It's like growth hormone for plants.]

I have, however, been quietly and lazily composting yard and ungross kitchen waste since this winter. I dug into my compost pile, and? I? HAVE MADE DIRT. The bottom of the pile is dark, rich, you-can’t-buy-this soil, complete with helpful creatures.

That is awesome. I have made some art that really moved me. I have done work that felt like it mattered. And now? I have made dirt, the most fundamental thing you can make outside yourself.

Yay.

resistance?

I put out a bag for recycling at the beach house my family rented for vacation last week. We ended up filling 3 bags! People can make so much trash; it’s amazing.

My parents started regularly recycling well before I did, but they aren’t attentive to it now when it’s not convenient. I never figured out where to take recyclables when I lived in apartments. At the house, I just had to call and ask for a bin; now I recycle or reuse more than I trash. My practice may be better now, but I understand not doing this small service to the earth when it’s inconvenient.

And when I set out a bag to collect the stuff, we all immediately started using it. [Side note: is there a way to recycle plastic bags in Richmond? I try to just never get them, as they're specifically called out as not acceptable in my curbside service. Wonder if there's a way to do something with them other than reuse.]

Another surprising thing that’s encountering no resistance from others, or really myself anymore: fishytarianism. I’ve figured out how to eat at normal places, and no one even comments on it. I remember it being so hard to be vegetarian when I was younger. The world has changed, though. And the people around me are way more chill. I would struggle with veganism, or even real vegetarianism, but conscientious seafood and dairy is pretty easy. Cheap, too – I had a cafeteria lunch today that cost me $4.

Neither of these practices is that far from normal (they’re more the norm that otherwise in some contexts), so I’m not sure why I expected resistance. It’s good to not get what I expect here.

tuck your television into a cozy bed

I started to write “kill your television” but it bothered me. The wild uncomfortable coaching experience taught me that I don’t want to destroy anything violently. I want to poke it. [Dude. That is kindof literally true, beyond that little metaphor. I am a poker.]

This is all preamble to say: yesterday I unplugged the television! Today I planted peppers, tomatoes, cilantro, spinach. And, not because I want to eat it but because it’s in that Ed’s Redeeming Qualities song: swiss chard. I’ll figure out ways to eat it later.

things i can live without

I told a few of my fellow coaches at training this past weekend about my dream of this different life. It felt like they wouldn’t disapprove. Beautiful thing about coaches: they want people to be happy and fulfilled. They’ll support any way you choose to do that.

In practice coaching, I committed to someone to write a list – two lists, actually – of things I can live without and things I can’t sacrifice.

Read the rest of this entry »