“Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire: it is the time for home.”― Edith Sitwell
Home isn’t a place for us, it’s a person. Bo is my home and I am hers. As long as we are together we both have the comfort that home brings. Last week we moved house, we finished purging and the last of our boxes and furniture were stacked into the garage at my mums new place. With nothing more than one car load we moved out to an organic orchard in the middle of the South West farmland. It’s beautiful and cold and the air feels fresh and clean all day long. We have made our little home in a little tin clad shed that backs onto an organic mandarin orchard where the chooks and geese and ducks have free range. We sit at dinner with the couple who were kind enough to offer their land as a place for us to call home while we experiment with transitional living and see whether a life without a home of our own is something that could work for us.
I’m tending more and more to sway toward the value system that is the foundation of purposeful communal living, but it’s such an adjustment from what I always imagined my life would look like that taking small gentle steps in that direction while I figure out the how’s, and wheres, and whys… is perfect for us. We were so lucky to be offered this as an option for us for the next three weeks and we would be foolish not to make the most of every minute that we are lucky enough to be out there with these wonderful people on their beautiful land.
I’m lucky that Bo is very adaptable and personable, it makes the transition between homes as smooth as anything is with a tornado toddler on the loose. I make sure I prepare her and explain why we are doing the things that we are doing in an age appropriate manner and as long as she gets a good grasp on what is going on, we have very few problems. In her true spirit, she doesn’t seem phased by new places, seeing them only as new adventures that are waiting for us to tackle head on.
We are embracing a new rhythm of life. A life where we are woken by the crow of the rooster and we go down not long after the sun. We share meals with new friends over a big wooden table with no television in sight. We talk and we laugh and we tell stories and then as soon as the dishes are done we pull on our boots and winter coats and we make the walk through the vegetable garden hand in hand by torch light to our for now home. There is no wifi out in the tin shed… so I don’t even work in the evening now, I read a little and then I sleep shrouded in layers of woven blankets to keep out the cold.
The freedom of life without boarders is only just starting to sink in. Whilst most people still seem to think I’m crazy for doing what I’m doing, I’m finding a lot of empowerment in making alternative choices for my family… Last week marked the halfway point of the nothing new project. We are six months in and we’ve got six months to go. This new phase of the project comes with a pretty steep learning curve, but like every other phase that we have passed through as a part of this year long marathon… it’s about focussing not on what we are giving up, but what we gain.
And I can tell you know, we are gaining a hell of a lot.