Today, I’m easing back into the swing of blogging things after taking a bit of a holi-break. I’d like to share with you all an out-take from the ebook I’ve written for the Iowa Natural Heritage Fund’s Be Wild ReWild community gathering art grant: Re-Rooting: A Landmark Map to the Soul (coming in February!)
While I wasn’t able to find a good home for this excerpt in the ebook, it speaks to its underlying message in a way I couldn’t let go of, and as I read it and reread it, it kept singing ~blog post~ so here it is:
I’m one of those who needs to be reminded of the moon and stars at night. I leave my blinds open while I rock in my chair. Sewing, talking story, reading, writing.
I’m also one of those people who needs privacy—I don’t like the idea of my illuminated window becoming another screen for the city below to watch. And so I crave trees and space to shield and buffer my own soul’s wildness from those that might try to tame it.
As for me, I would rather live a life where wildlife bandits steal my garbage or a flock of hens for their food, than a life where I’m fined or locked away because my neighbors don’t like how many or how little clothes I choose to wear, or what kinds of plant matter I ingest.
I’d rather be in peace with my wildness, knowing my own moral compass will calibrate as I navigate through this world. Consequence and wise discretion are force enough to guide me. I need no written law, or weaponized enforcer of it, to help me understand and act within right and wrong.
I’m not advocating for anarchy—at least, not the anarchy our culture knows. I’m advocating for natural order.