Posted on

I wrote on Facebook today:

Dear tower of glass and steel and made-stone, you suck. I can see the sun but not feel it. Far below, I can see the trees bend in the breeze, but it does not touch me. I can’t touch the earth, but neither can I touch the sky or hear the birds. This is not how we were meant to be. Are we better off like this? No.


Day Two of re-entry. I don’t like being in the city. As I told Mom, I want to be back out in the middle of nowhere. It’s funny how that’s changed over the years. If we could survive on 10 acres with just a garden and a couple of goats, I’d totally do it. And maybe some chickens. Possibly a couple of sheep.

This year’s re-entry from Between the Worlds to the regular world is harder to get through than last year. It was an amazing week filled with laughter, relaxation, workshops, rituals, and the best brotherhood in the history of ever. I think it’s getting harder and harder every year to get through that feeling that these men are scattered and that very few of them are near enough to make seeing them easy, for the most part, and that’s making me very sad.

I keep waking up in the middle of the night, and being in a solid bed instead of an air mattress feels awkward. Not having the wind or the sun in my face during the day because it’s blocked by the glass of my 16th story office window feels unnatural.

What sucks the most, though, is that there’s not as much laughter around me, and the laughter that does exist isn’t the “right” kind. Random, heartfelt laughter from everywhere. Songs and drumming and talking. The cool, damp feel of the air in the morning while still cuddling under the blankets. The sheer awesome amount of stars at night. The smell of wood smoke. The colors of nature and the chosen plumage of my brothers.

Don’t get me wrong, I can appreciate my creature comforts of big fuzzy blankets at night, of a kitchen that has all of my stuff in it, a washing machine and dryer, flush toilets, the Internet. But they come at a price. I’m getting to the point in my life that I’m not sure if the price is worth it anymore. Wishing to live in the worlds of my books is useless because it won’t happen, but figuring out a way to not be constantly surrounded by concrete and steel should just take some planning and some work, right?

Let’s hope so.

Blessed be.