Hi all! Tonight we shared time around a fire pit in the Colton Community Garden, complete and resplendent with s’mores and stories galore. Each of us had spent the week previous thinking about and writing our stories of self — grand attempts to put all of who we are, how we got here, why we do what we do, into 3 pages of text. I’d been looking forward to this evening for a few days now, preparing my essay and the poem I would read to our group.
Because I wanted to give every sharer my full attention, and because a moment of vulnerability is just that — ephemeral, a sparkle in time — I didn’t take many pictures of tonight. So imagine the buzzing of small insects, the sun’s penetrating stare, white flakes of ash floating swiftly on clouds of smoke, two playful pups and twenty-seven present, youthful, astute people all easing into this thing called a Community. Co-mmun-i-ty. Community. I like it.
Tonight I learned that, if our group could compile all of our life lessons into one single tome, and a person could study and learn and master that tome in a lifetime (we could call it the LifeTome), said person would be well on their way to what Buddhists call Enlightenment. Or, at least, they would have the inner strength, security, and problem-solving skills to handle any hardship that the Universe dealt.
That’s MY take on tonight — a sort of fisheye view, all bending curiously around a central theme: community wisdom. This shared bank of life skills is a sort of subliminal benefit to urban placemaking, but it may prove just as valuable as the more tangible resources shared in a community (e.g. seasonal produce). Between that and the ooey-gooey s’mores, who WOULDN’T want a lil’ urban homesteading in their life?
– Shyla Cox