Writing is a very solitary activity for me. In order for me to write, I need solitude and I need quiet. I am most motivated to write and write best when I am completely alone and surrounded by silence. Probably, this is true for anyone who writes, so my observation that writing is a solitary activity for me is neither unique nor profound, but that’s not the point. The point is… I’ve found it really difficult to write here in this communal living environment.
Surely, you’ve noticed my unusual radio silence these past couple weeks. Partially, I’ve been silent because I simply can’t be alone to write. I don’t have a power outlet in my tent, so the only place I can plug in and let my thoughts flow is the common areas. It’s impossible for me to stay focused on my writing with all the activity going on non-stop around me and demanding my attention. Even more challenging for me, though, is that my thoughts can’t flow in common areas. They’re constantly running up against a variety of barriers, like the clank of dishes, a conversation just on the periphery of my awareness, or someone speaking directly to me. So, even if I could block out the distractions to write, my vagrant thoughts can’t seem to make their way home.
Even now, as I’ve squirreled myself away in an unused guest room to finally sit down and WRITE, I’m not sure where to start with this last week here at Polestar.
Perhaps I’ll start with my challenges here – namely, the other people. First, there’s the general challenges of sharing one space with so many other people. For instance, if someone isn’t in my way right this second, then that means I’m in someone else’s way, and sometimes both at the same time. This is always true at mealtimes and almost any other time you’re in the kitchen. It’s very stressful not to simply be able to be somewhere – waiting for the water to boil or to get into a drawer or something – to be constantly having to move out of someone else’s way. Some of the people here move really slowly, and all you can do is wait for them to finish what they’re doing and slowly shuffle out of your way. Other people commandeer space and things without caring or perhaps even seeing that others’ may be waiting for what they’ve just taken.
Then, there’s the more specific personal conflicts that irk me and which are impossible to escape from: passive, indirect speech; taking things without asking; “helping” when help is not needed and has not been requested; presuming omniscience for oneself and omni-ignorance for everyone else; doing someone else’s assigned task for the day or telling them how they should do it (instead of doing your own assigned task, usually). Here’s a list of specific irking events I have endured over the last couple of weeks:
- Being assigned tasks by another apprentice/intern who had no authority to do so.
- Without my posing any question or inquiry, being explained to by random other intern what needed to be done as if we weren’t both staring at the exact same checklist of things to be done.
- While walking through the common area from one task to the next, random other intern, who is standing around not doing anything at all, passively announces to no one in particular that X task needs to be done, with the clear expectation that I would then jump to it.
- Having a folding table literally ripped out of my hands by an intern who assumed, but never bothered to ask me, that I did not know how to fold it and need him to do so for me.
- Immediately after the morning circle meeting in which I was assigned to help someone else prepare lunch, three other people who were NOT assigned to prepare lunch start pulling things out of the fridge to be used for…lunch.
- I pulled a container out of the fridge intending to serve myself some of what was inside. I turned around to grab a fork, at which point someone else serves themselves out of said container and then offers it to another person.
So, this experience has provided lots of opportunity to practice patience and acceptance and to suspend judgment and expectation of how things should be, how others should interact with me, etc. And I need the practice, believe me. I find it quite ironic to have so much fuel for my literary fire here, and to have so much value to be gained from writing about my experiences, yet to be without my critical outlet, unable to vent the mixture of thoughts and emotions building up inside of me. Perhaps this experience will serve as a catalyst for helping to find that outlet in a different, more effective, form – meditation.
This past weekend was quite pleasant and relaxing. Saturday, I went with a small group to Volcanoes National Park. It was fun for the social aspect, and the volcanoes themselves are really awe inspiring. Sunday, I went with a small group to the local farmer’s market. When I was in Hawaii last year, I bought myself a ring that I greatly admired from an artsy boutique near the volcanoes. I was wearing it on Sunday when I came across the stand of the artist who actually made my ring. That was an unexpected and pleasant meeting. I was excited to get some poke from local grocery store; it didn’t hold a candle to Kona’s Da Poke Shack, but it was still pretty satisfying.
I guess I haven’t got much else to talk about, really. This week has been dull for work. A couple days of lunch preparation, a couple days of house cleaning, a little bit of landscaping… Wednesday was the regular weekly kirtan as well as the Polestar Christmas party. I was a total recluse during the party, sitting outside and avoiding small talk of any kind. Random party goer found me outside with another intern and sprayed me with small talk while completely ignoring the person I was already in conversation with, causing them to depart quietly. I still haven’t learned how to gracefully circumnavigate that party pitfall yet.
Fridays, we only work until noon, so most of the interns have taken off to one of the local swimming spots. I’m taking advantage of the relative peace and quiet to be alone, to collect my scattered thoughts, and to write. I already feel so much more at peace.
Here are a few pics of the property, as promised:
TL;DR: Communal living, while offering its own rewards, proves to be no place for a writer.
