early in my first months here, I was told that the honeymoon phase would eventually wear off... now all I can say is that, married life is goood. 

You have to leave the city of your comfort and go into the wilderness of your intuition. What you will discover will be wonderful: Yourself

Love.

It has been a little over two months since I began my life here at Camphill, which is baffling to me, because living here has felt like I'm in a time-warp: where days can feels like weeks, and weeks can feel like days. I remember so clearly arriving here and my first days that feel like just yesterday, but I have such a strong sense of home and comfort and connection to it that it feels as though I've been here for years. The last two months have been incredible: they have been challenging to me in ways that I didn't know existed, they have had me grow so much as a person. In view of the course of a lifetime, eight weeks is such a small fraction, just a blink of an eye, but I have learned so much about myself, about other people, about life itself, in this blink of my lifetime. I have learned to keep the stove flame on low and gradually decreased the number of smoke alarms I have set off: and this lesson that I learned in the practical sense has taught me patience, which in turn provides the grounds for so many of my relationships with people here. I have also learned how important it is to be honest: honesty is something that was always preached in my family, but honesty is so much more than not lying. Honesty is an active practice, where we are open about our emotions, how we feel about one another. With underlying concepts of honesty and forgiveness, I have developed these inredible, deep, strong and pure relationships with various people. I have finally been able to express without hesitation to my loved ones how much I care about them. Recently, I spoke to my father about how connected I felt to him when I was surrounded by cows and following that, learned that we have the same nickname from our respective close friends. It blew my mind that I had never known that about him, and that connection that we shared but by being honest with him about that connection, I learned something that brought us closer together. Honesty isn't just about admitting your mistakes or being open about your flaws: you could spend a decade with somebody and have so much love for them, but if you don't express that to them, it might ruin a love that was beautiful and unconditional. The most dangerous thing in the world is pretending that you don't care. So give more hugs. Ask for more hugs when you need them. Ask for them even you don't need them. Don't pretend that you're busier than you are, that you care less than you do, that you have better things you do. That instance of vulnerability that you allow to penetrate through the cracks of your soul will shine like a beacon of light and will make you even stronger than you were before. Open your heart up to love and you'll find how much of a deeper connection you will have with them, how much more you will appreciate them, appreciate yourself, feel a stronger sense of self and be even more open to love. This doesn't limit itself to romantic love, which is perhaps the most visibly expressed. To the people in your life who you look forward to seeing every day, who light up the room when they come in, who make your day just a little bit better: let them know. Life is way too short to hold back or to be indifferent. I have been more passionate and open and loving and grateful, romantically and otherwise, in the last eight weeks than I have in my entire life, and I wish for all human beings to embrace the love that's around them completely. Life is so so beautiful. And I am running out of words to gush about it. I've also completely lost my train of thought. But whoever you are out there, I'm sending you love and laughter and joy and gratitude. Hope you're having a beautiful day. Tanvi

A Tribute to Ashley

15 and a half years ago, the most wonderful thing happened to our family - our dog, Ashley. She came into our lives at a time that I can't even remember - for which I am so grateful, because I can't remember my life without her. She was my best friend, my sister, my baby. I grew up with her, and she taught me what it is to love, to love unconditionally and to be loved unconditionally. She was my biggest lesson in nurturing: especially in the last 10 months when she needed the most care. There are no words for me to completely describe what she meant to me, and still means to me, but all I can say is how grateful I am to have been blessed with her for my entire life. And also how grateful I am to have a family who loves her as much as I do and who spent her final days in remembrance of what a wonderful dog she has been and how beautiful she made our lives. There are thousands of memories that we have with Ashley - that make me laugh and make me cry, but every single one of them makes me feel as though she's here with me, and that although she has left the physical world, she will always be here, in spirit, and in my memory, snuggled in the crook of my elbow, and wagging her tail and jumping up and down happily when I come home, and will always be my source of unconditional love, my source of joy and comfort. I miss her more than I can explain but she is in a wonderful place now. I imagine her heaven to be filled with feasts of chicken and huge green parks for her to run around in and her legs are strong again and we're there too, in spirit, waiting for her to run to us and feeding her and cuddling with her and probably in her heaven, Mom would let her sleep up on her bed. Rest in paradise, little one. Thank you for everything.

18.

I have written and re-written this post over and over but only want to say a few brief things: I am so incredibly grateful to the wonderful birthday I had, to the people that I live with, to my loved ones who are spread out all over the world, who have made my birthday such a special day. The most frustration I felt today was that I couldn't fully express how appreciative I was of how special I was made to feel because the appreciation was unquantifiable. I am so happy that I got to see Ashley today and that she fought her way through the things that have been hitting her hard this year - especially this past week. I have also decided that this year I will not try to make a drastic change within myself, not 'start being' this person I want to be, but let go of that image in my head and instead free myself to experiences as they come, open my mind and heart, and love freely: that is the path I would like to set out on, hopefully the path I already am on. Lastly, I spent several hours in meditation and prayer, which is quite an unusual thing to do for me but for some reason felt moved by something in the universe, and found myself praying for my loved ones as well as myself. I'd like to just ask you for one thing, if you're reading this, if you'd pray for my dog, Ashley, who has battled more things than she should have had to this year and is still fighting, that she will find her remaining days to be peaceful and painless, and if you'd pray the same for Sandy, a villager here at Camphill who I have grown to care for very much, and is slowly getting ready to cross the barrier between the physical world and the spiritual one. 

Thank you.

On Social Media

When I first heard that the house I would be living in at Camphill would have wi-fi access, I was so relieved, because I was scared to be isolated from the outside world and glad to have a technological link to the people I had moved away from. But after being here for two weeks, I have noticed a strange routine coming about my life, a routine that did not rely on technology or social media to facilitate it. It didn't require me to sit and stare at a screen for 9 hours or feel so buzzed or emotionally detached from the people around me. All the things I have been doing in the past two weeks: climbing to the top of the tree to reach the highest apple, swing dancing, sitting with the people of my house and drinking crisp cider on hot afternoons, walking home in the middle of the night with only the light of the moon to guide us: these were all things that in all likelihood, I would have taken pictures of and instead of fully allowing myself to enjoy these experiences, would have spent a good while thinking of a caption for the Instagram picture. But having limited wi-fi access and being detached from social media has meant that I have been able to fully engage with the people I'm living with, with the people who are around me, physically. Don't get me wrong: there are people I wish were here and sometimes find myself wanting to call my best friend before realizing that it's 3 a.m. where she is. And I'm so grateful that I'm able to use the power of e-mail and Whatsapp to still be in touch with people across the world. But the point is, that for the first time in a long time, I'm having experiences for which I don't feel the requirement to document every picture-worthy moment. And even greater than the connections with the people around me, I feel a greater connection to myself. I have never felt a greater sense of self than I do now, a recognition of thoughts and emotions, an increasing ability to think creatively, to be open-minded, to trust quickly, to love freely. It has opened so many doors, doors that perhaps existed before but I was blinded by the screens in front of me to see.

Thanks to this, I've been giving the whole concept of social media some thought. It has made me fully understand that our personalities cannot depend on our Facebook profiles and we cannot gauge how loved we are by the number of likes our Instagram pictures get. It's fascinating to witness the way we interact on social media - we will document nights out with friends, take selfies when we're having great hair days, find a witty caption for the souffle that turned out so perfectly. And this is perfectly fine - what is not fine is the illusion that this gives us, that other people's lives are perfect. Because nobody documents the day they spent the evening in bed, worrying about why they weren't invited, the days when their hair was frizzy and sticking up in all the wrong places, the day their souffle burned and they spent the whole afternoon cleaning ash out of the oven. I'm coming to embrace the fact that we are all full of flaws, and the more we strive to appear to be perfect, the more unhappy we will be. The sooner I accept and fall in love with my own flaws, the more I will fall in love with the world around me. And so, I ask of you one thing - just for one day, leave your phone at home. Go outside, experience the area you live in, watch how the colors of the sky change, from cornflower blue to light pink to crimson. Notice that even when the sky appears to be pitch black, there are hints of midnight blue if you look close enough. Look at the stars and make up names for them in your head. Ask the people around you with genuine interest and concern, how they are doing. Attend that dance class you've always wanted to but have never found the time for. There is so much around us to be appreciative of, such rich things to experience, wherever we are in the world, but our visions are clouded by our constant need to check our phones, our experiences are interrupted by scrolling through our Facebook feed. 

In conclusion, I have spent enough time away from social media that I don't miss it that much. I'm glad to have contact with people who are not here, but I'm freeing myself up more and more to have fully real, flawed but rich experiences.

I watched an interesting video that was in close conjunction with these thoughts that I've had, and you could go watch it if you'd like, but you could also turn your laptop off and have a conversation with somebody in the room with you right now.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z7dLU6fk9QY

Days 2&3: on firsts and gratitude

Firsts. You spend your entire life with them. It's not always that we feel like we're doing things for the first time, but every morning when you wake up, you're living that day for the first time. When you are in a new place though surrounded, the concept of Firsts feels much more raw. First time cooking brunch for 12 people. First discussions with people you have known for about 72 hours, about life and beyond. First hike alongside the creek. First jazz concert. First time bottle feeding a 5-day olf calf. First time (and hopefully the last) getting lost in the woods in the dark. Firsts...it's really a matter of perspective. It brings with it opportunity, and with opportunity we can find hope, which is really all you need - its the flashlight in the pitch black woods that assures you that you'll get home safely.

Orientation days 2 & 3 have been intense seminars, exploring the village and the woods, attending workshops for cooking, pottery, the works. I have so much gratitude towards the fact that I'm living in such a wonderful life-sharing community, humbled that I've been chosen to have the opportunity for these enriching experiences. I've taken far too many things for granted in the past, but I hope I can do everything I've been given right now, justice.