Lights up farm factory

The past three days I've only seen my dome at nighttime. Just as I'm losing myself, bewildered on my nighttime walk through the woods, the brush, the downhill slippery leaves (contact improv has helped me to fall gently) I see the outline of my home, my dome, my magical spot with running water and electricity and a hula hoop. We settle in, get naked together, meditate through open space and gratitude and warmth.

I am so well taken care of here. Yoga at 6:30 in the morning. Two delicious home-grown meals cooked every day by our resident chefs and eaten communally in the yurt to power us through farm factory time. Let's get these fisker-wielders some cucumber mate smoothie! How wild? How shaved? How many different ways can you cook zucchini? Work work work until lunchtime. Eat. Sit sit work work until dinner. Breathe. Puff. Walk home.

It'll be like this for the next two weeks or so. Profit rises as the weather cools. We saw our first rainbow yesterday evening.

And though I have no buddy-buddies to play with, there are the stars and my hula hoop, which both make good dance partners. There is the solitude to really feel myself out, learn more about my own needs and desires, breathe into the woodpeckers knock knock knocking.

And I miss. Expanding into elsewhere and back into here.