The 3:30 am Disaster

And thoughts on being vulnerable

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4 AM stillness. The puppy is sleeping. The dogs outside have ceased barking. A moment to integrate, to listen to my heart, to catch up. When I left New York I packed methodically, as a blessing to my future self, the self that is now writing to you.

The prep did help;. I was able to unload seven or so waterproof, labeled plastic tubs next to my little home, so I could pick the most important boxes to unpack first.

Kitchen. Altar. Office. Clothes.

The before and after… waterfall house NY to Airstream NM

But no amount of careful planning and organizing can prepare for moving oneself and an 11-week old puppy half way across the country and into a 160-square foot home. I knew it would be chaotic, and it was.

As of today I have unpacked all the boxes, and Mystic and I are finding our rhythm and bond. Only three times since I got home have I wondered why in the hell I decided that it was a good idea to have a puppy. : )

Unpacking and Mystic’s first den which she has already outgrown!

A few nights ago I woke up in the dark hours to a dreaded sound: the final click of the heater turning off when the propane runs out. I sighed and nestled deeper under my blankets. And then I remembered: I have a puppy. It was 26 degrees outside and we were in a 20 by 8 foot metal box. It wouldn't be long until our bubble of warmth was popped by the chill outside squeezing in.

I assessed options. I could go into my office in the main house. I could drive to my friend Franklin's house, five minutes away. I could maybe put the puppy in bed with me under the covers? I decided the best option was to sneak the puppy into Rowan's house and my office.

I took Mystic's floppy sleepy body and gently put her on the floor of the trailer. Picking up her crate I managed to get out the door with her on the inside and me on the outside. Huzzah! First obstacle complete! I walked in the dark with the crate awkwardly balanced. As quietly as possible so not to wake Rowan I squeezed through the front door, eased through the narrow hallway next to her bedroom, balanced the crate on my hip, pushed left so it moved into the bathroom and I could open my office door. Eased up hip and slid the crate through the doorway into my office.

Blessings: the crate fit under my office desk. With a button the heat came on without a fuss. Now to get Mystic.

I walked silently through the house, happy that Rowan was sleeping through my coming and going. The stars outside are beautiful, cheering me on. When I open the trailer door I realize my error immediately: Mystic has of course pooped and peed and is looking at me with a sorry-mom face.

”It's okay sweetheart, that was my fault” I tell her as I scoop her up while avoiding stepping in one of the multiple piles of shit. She is quiet in my arms as I carry her through the yard, into the house, and gently slide her into her crate. “Good girl,” I tell her, and put a silent prayer out to the gods of border collies that she doesn't bark.

Blessings: there is dog oopsies cleaning spray under the kitchen sink in the house. I say hello to the stars on the way back. Thank goddess for paper towels. Spray, wipe, deposit in the trash. Okay what is next? I wash my hands, get my pillow, my sheepskin, and take deep breath.

Inside the house, Mystic is quiet. Pulling blankets off the couch I put my sheepskin on the floor near Mystic, wrap myself in a blanket and do my best to sleep.

Blessing: Rowan doesn't wake up, even in the morning when I get up to unhook the propane tanks and bring them to Cortez Gas to be filled. Mystic stays calm and quiet. I do manage to get a couple of hours more sleep. By 8:30 am the propane tanks are filled and the heat in my tiny home is back on.

Crisis averted.

I have resources and friends and multiple spaces I call home; but the moment I woke up at 3:30 am in the cold I felt the simple truth: we are all so vulnerable. Some much more than others. We are dependent on electricity, water, propane which can go out at any time. In Las Vegas right now because the winds are gusting at 80 miles an hour we are under warning that the electricity may be shut off at any time; we’ve been without water or under boil advisory for two months here because of pipes that keep breaking due to the city’s very old infrastructure.

I used to believe that Roe vs Wade was a permanent freedom. Freedom of speech and the right to peacefully protest were inarguably American values. Over the years I’ve been living and voting in the United States while I didn’t always like the President I knew that they were dedicated to upholding the Constitution and working within the checks and balances of the Congress and the Senate. That the U.S.A. was mostly a good neighbor.

As I read the news so much is being threatened — just to name a few — national parks, social security, medicare, our alliance with Europe, Canada, and Mexico, freedom of speech, protection for the most vulnerable of us.

Now, as an activist I know that the United States was founded on colonization, slavery, and genocide of indigenous peoples. I know some of the horrors we perpetrated in Central America in the 80’s when I was in college and protesting regularly. As a nomad who grew up overseas I’ve never felt particularly loyal to this country, but deeply loyal to the Earth.

But as I’m watching what is happening there is a growing understanding of how vulnerable democracy actually is. It seems like something that will be there forever, like the heat or lights. And yet.

And yet in this vulnerability our days go on.

How do we deal with vulnerability? Put one hand on your heart and one hand on your belly. Take a breath. Honor the soft animal of your being. Name the vulnerability.

Let your courage emerge through the tenderness. Name what you love, what is valuable to you.

Then take little actions in service of what you value. We are not powerless. There is so much to love, to experience, to celebrate, to defend, to nourish.

Mine this week:

• An extra tank of propane as backup for the Airstream

• Went to a poetry reading and met local community

• Send an email inspired by Amnesty International to release Mahmoud Khalil

• Called my New Mexico House Rep and Senators to oppose unregulated logging

• Took a ceramics class

• Filed paperwork for our nonprofit, Center for Creative Intent

• Checked in with a couple of friends

• Cleaned up dog shit

• Lots of puppy kisses

• Stayed present and loved someone through a hard conversation

• Making seed balls to share

Today Mystic and I will again go into town to run errands. My goal: for her to meet two new people a day and get exposed to something new each day. I can't put her on the ground when I’m out an about because she hasn't had all her vaccinations yet, so I'm carrying her around in a cloth bag like a baby, going in and out of stores with her, inviting strangers to say hello, introducing her to the ferrets at Petco and the hoses at Home Depot.

May you honor the tender parts of yourself, make sure you have lots of water and nourishment, give yourself a daily adventure or two, and stand up for what you love.

I think she has already doubled in size!!! Thanks to Rowan for this pic.