Previous Ramblings

Friday, August 26, 2011

Slaveland

We went to Tahiti for two weeks for our honeymoon.  Visited Bora Bora, Raiatea, Huahine, Moorea, and Tahiti-- in that order.  A pretty idyllic trip, except for one thing.  Sokchea and I are completely addicted to the internet.  Without access to email I drifted around in an anxious fuzz.  When you can physically feel that something's wrong, but can't pinpoint it.  When I was able to check my email in the morning and actually feel like I contributed at work, then I was able to enjoy my day.  If that's not bad enough, I was reading Walden Pond at the time.  It was like Thoreau was writing the book especially for me.  Or rather, like he was screaming at me to stop being my own slave.  So, even with a conscious effort at trying to enjoy the present of my honeymoon, to release "my bonds," to "live deep and suck out all the marrow of life," I couldn't do it.  I realized that there is a barely invisible chain connecting me to the internet and my work.  And when I can't work, I don't function very well.    I am a perfect example of Thoreau's men who have become "tools of their tools."

Another point that struck me was Thoreau's description of building his house at Walden Pond.  I believe he said it took him six months to build his little hut, because he never forced himself to work. He wanted to live and enjoy life, while I have been going at a frantic pace without ever stopping to look around.  My only time for reflection is when I sit down and write on here.  But even that isn't true reflection because I have to force myself to write.  My 95 year old grandpa from New York stayed with us for six weeks before the wedding.  Most of this days he would sit on a lounge chair under a pop-up tent while we worked at a furious pace on the land.  It became his joke to refer to the land as Slaveland, because it had sucked us all in.

So, what did I learn after my anxiety wracked two week trip to Tahiti?   That it's not worth it to fight the urge to work.  That I am a slave to my job.  That I have trouble taking a breath and seeing where I'm at.  I have started working full time at Kamanu (at least remotely) since getting back, so I only have a couple of hours in the afternoon to put into the Yurt.  Which means I sit for 7 hours on my computer, then I go and work till dark on the Yurt (water catchment at the moment), then Sokchea and I set up at the inside of the Yurt at night, or I go to Home Depot, or I work a little more on my computer before falling asleep.  Basically filling every available second of my day with production.

But it feels good.  I love the sense of progress.  I like the sense that I'm creating a little haven for my future family.  When I'm sweating under the porch putting PVC together, I like to envision the day that we leisurely sit on the porch next to our fire pit watching the stars.  I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to stop long enough to do that, but I like to imagine it.

The good news, other than my discovery that I'm a neurotic fool, is that we've made some progress.

Bathroom is framed.
Composting toilet is set up and good to go (though I haven't had the nerve to "soil" it yet).
Refrigerator is in and working.
Water catchment filtration system is set up.
Tank foundation is done.
All 250 feet of piping up and down the hill is done.
Pump system is set up, just needs to get wired.
Gutter system to the rain barrel is nearly done.

But we just made the decision that we're not going to move in until it's 100%.  So that I can carry my wife over the threshold to our new life.  And not trip over boxes on the way in.