When people compare Dancing Rabbit with our mainstream culture, I often hear the latter referred to as “The Real World.” I (not so humbly) disagree. I notice a rising stubbornness in myself in response to this after coming up on five years of living here.

Upon my return from the “Outside World,” I feel an almost overwhelming sense of connection with the building I sleep in, the land I walk on, and the people I eat, laugh, cry, speak, and otherwise exist with. I feel as though I am a part of something greater than my own fragile, mortal shell. Life here is not, of course, without its challenges, which often confront me head on. It is almost as though there is no space to ignore the realities of being a human animal when I live so intimately among other human animals.

It’s Prairie again with the latest from Dancing Rabbit.

There is no shortage of experiences around here that remind me of my humanness, bringing me back again and again to my five senses and a small piece of this planet that I have come to cherish deeply.

I live in a place where cricket and cicada songs vie for my ear space just beyond my earthen walls as the sun sets. Dozens and dozens of tiny green pears decorate the ground around my deck like asymmetrical confetti; the rejects of a picky squirrel browsing the abundant tree next to my house. Bullfrogs make their thunderous presence known along the edges of the pond while I immerse myself in its aquatic embrace. Effervescent yips pull at the edges of my hearing; coyotes in the midst of their nightly symphony.

Living so close to the natural world has been an incredibly grounding experience for me.

In late June, I discovered a frog nestled contentedly in the pant leg of my work shorts that I hung outside to air overnight. A few days later, we experienced a joyous cool spell despite the usual summer heat. I switched to new work attire to accommodate the cooler temperatures and began to notice more and more high-pitched birdsong around my porch. I belatedly encountered its cause as the heat returned, when a small bird nearly flew into me as she exited my work shorts as I reached for them; she and her mate had been tending to a growing pile of neatly organized sticks in my pant leg. Though there were no baby birds in the nest yet, whenever I neared my shorts, I was blasted with a cacophony of raucous protest.

I believe that when we are fully immersed in the rhythms of a dynamic ecosystem, we are much more likely to participate in creative living and problem solving, because it is so obviously our home! And if we want to keep living here, we need to demonstrate care and respect for it.

I touch on this whenever I can when I teach workshops in the visitor program (our third session of the year just came to a close this weekend!) And what better time to introduce ecosystems and struggles than in the humanure workshop?

Our culture is uncomfortable with discomfort. I believe that if we are willing to feel a little uncomfortable as we begin to face the realities and impacts of our humanness, we grow our discomfort muscle, little by little.

Dancing Rabbit offers a crash course on recycling human waste in the visitor program because it is arguably one of the most radical systems we practice here and inadvertently gets us up close and personal with nature at its finest.

What I find slightly more riveting than dumping actual buckets of crap is the visceral metaphor it creates for how challenging it can be to face and deal with intellectual, spiritual, and emotional “crap.” And what does our culture traditionally prefer to do with crap? Avoid interacting with it as little as possible. Throw it away. Give it a name like “waste” so that we see it as a gross and useless substance instead of a valuable resource. I could go on and on.

My workshop is not just about humanure. It is about curiosity. It is about asking questions such as: what can we do better or differently in order to leave this place in better condition than when we arrived? How can we examine ourselves, our thinking, and our impact on this planet in a way that promotes growth through positive action for a more balanced, connected, harmonious Earth?

Humanure is just one radical strategy to attempt to offset our negative impact on the planet. Because let’s face it: we all poop! Let’s normalize talking about it, along our other struggles—because it’s normal!

This tangible, sensory, tactile place is the “Real World.” It is one piece of it, anyway. Dancing Rabbit invites me to explore what is within and around me—which feels easier when there is so much more room outside of it than in it. I like that!

The last two weeks were filled with beautiful conversations, activities like karaoke, potlucks, games, and moments of reflection. I am so grateful that this world is big enough to hold all of those things. And I hope that we can keep pushing ourselves to find creative solutions to our problems so that we can continue to live on this remarkable planet we call home.

As I was closing out a work day as CSCC’s Correspondent, I came upon a testimonial from former member Alannah Tomich that spoke deeply to me and set the stage for how I wanted to write this article. I’ll end with it here:

“I now have a full sense of living in a village, where there are days with no strangers, I recognize my neighbors by their silhouette, and I can find my way on a night with no moon, by foot feel.”

May your feet lead you to the places that feed and nourish you—and hopefully one day, to Dancing Rabbit.
 

Last chance to visit Dancing Rabbit is coming up! Apply for our next visitor program, August 21st - September 4th.