| For some time, I had been struggling to trust - truly trust - in my agency to manifest the future of my lived reality. I believed firmly that if I called out to the universe and verbalized my intentions, magnetized, I would meet my desire, my need. Still, below the surface was a heavy need to affirm this belief. No more than 8 months prior to today, I had announced that I was leaving my job of six years, my safe place - an art studio that raised me - to pursue an opportunity unknown. With absolutely no plans for myself, I was in the process of finding a new hire to train as my replacement. I was away on a short vacation when in walked a woman who, on a whim, decided to see if the studio was hiring. After a short interview, my old boss - a woman with beautiful intuition - hired Leila on the spot. |  |
 | Now it was clear from the beginning that our dynamic would deviate greatly from the typical manger and new hire relationship. Skip small talk, we delved deeply into our contemplations and outlooks. Over a bucket of ceramic glaze and dozens of pieces to be processed, we created an art-centered, therapeutic space for self expansion. A space in which to verbalize our visions and continue the work of realizing our future selves. In this space, I allowed myself to be wholly vulnerable in articulating my desire for a restructured and shared life centered around a connection with the earth. |
| In May, nonchalant and cool as always, Leila opened her mouth and said something like, “I once did a permaculture internship in WA. I think it’d fit with your vision. You should apply.” Just like that, here I sit, finishing up my first blog post as tonight’s volunteer chefs chop and prepare produce grown right here at Songaia. We spent my first couple of weeks harvesting buckets of plums, grapes, apples, and pears. Plucking squash. Blending pounds of freshly pulled pesto. |  |
 | Decimating beautiful but invasive bind weed. Steaming out grape grape juice and reducing elderberry syrup, and plum jam. Transplanting strawberry plants. Shaking cover crop into fall beds. Turning compost and watering the garden quadrant by quadrant. Building a rabbit fence. Unclogging a kitchen drain. Dancing - ecstatically! Stretching, embracing, and singing in unison. Rejoicing at birthdays and the rain. Endlessly pondering as true farm folk philosophers. |
| And now, harmony reverberating within me, I sit, awestruck by the dedicated community, impassioned by permaculture and cohousing as means of revitalizing the deep bond between humans and habitat. Overjoyed at the intergenerational abundance of family, food, and wise council. And grateful. Grateful for the living reality that is Songaia, for a soul-friend like Leila, and for a universe that answers when I call. |  |
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