A group of our visitors on their way to a gathering.

  

I used to believe that life was like fresh peaches: mostly insipid and mealy, if you’re lucky enough to get any at all, but every once in a while, you find one that is firm, juicy, and oh-so-flavorful. The occasional event of bliss in life can make mundanity worthwhile; but the pursuit of that perfection can be a curse. My name is Vick, and as I’ve gotten older, and a little less ignorant (I don’t presume to call myself wise) I’ve come to appreciate the non-exceptional as beautiful in a profound way, and that’s something I learned at Dancing Rabbit Ecovillage.

When I first set out, I expected to journey far and wide to find the extraordinary. I wanted a taste of meaning and fulfilment. I wanted deep relationships with kindred spirits. I wanted to set about achieving something great (namely, to do my part to help save the planet). Perhaps most of all, I didn’t want to face my death someday, having flitted my life away on little more than trading my time for money. I started on the road to El Dorado, a city of gold that doesn’t exist; that road took me to a humble village filled with thoughtful, smiling people who sing, play and break bread together. I’ve never regretted it.

It isn’t easy to explain how touching it can be to witness people simply living their lives, and I don’t know how to put a value on the things that bring that virtue to my awareness as I live my own. I feel it when I hear a child laugh; when I get a glimpse of Sara and Ted strolling hand in hand through a well-ordered garden; making sock puppets with Katherine; sharing a snack with Charlie; and exchanging my secret handshake with Alyssa. It hits me when I hug my friend/neighbor/boss, Danielle; during a game of dominoes with Farmer John; when Prairie shares an insight from her brilliant young mind through her writing; seeing Alline light up as I tell her how delicious her latest cheesecake experiment was; and when Dan catches me off guard with one of his dad jokes. I also see reflections of it in the people who visit us: in the delight of parents welcoming their kids, returning dirty and happy after a day of playing in the grass; in the tears of a retired man experiencing an emotional breakthrough for the first time; and in the drowsy gaze of someone relishing a tranquil respite from their hectic city routine.  

I moved to the country to eat me a lot of peaches, both literally and figuratively, and it’s been wonderful. Don’t take my word for it. The joy and nobility of good-enough is something you must behold for yourself. You have a chance on September 26 - 29, with our Ecovillage Weekend Experience. You’ll learn about our village and what we do to live more sustainably; you’ll enjoy lots of tasty, wholesome food; and you’ll get a sense of how we live gently with each other, and ourselves. Chances are, the treasures you take home with you will be ineffable.