A True History of The Garden of Eden, Part 1
I am one of thousands of people affected by @quinneaker's visionary community the @gardenofeden. As we clean and organize in preparation for a big move towards Eden 2.0, it's time to let go of my own incredible history here:
I had just invested several years in traveling the world, and I was searching for the next step when this opportunity crossed my path. After talking to my friend, perusing the site, and my call with Quinn, I concluded the @gardenofeden was exactly where I was supposed to be.
What are they doing??? I wanted to see!
I arrived just a day after an accident in which I sliced my wrist down to the vein - the first and only time I've had to have stitches in my life.
Freshly injured, I wasn't sure if I would be welcomed in this community, or how long they might let me stay. It wasn't my first time in an ecovillage, and I expected that like in other places worldwide I would be expected to put in some volunteer hours in exchange for acceptance. Without the ability to do heavy lifting or fine motor skills, I wasn't sure what I could contribute. I called Quinn again to explain my situation and he summed it up, "Do you want to be here?"
"Yes," I was sure of that.
"Then you can come whenever you want," he told me.
I hugged Shellie (AKA @everlove) first upon arrival, and immediately I knew it was home, no matter how long I chose to remain in this physical location.
I hugged Quinn next. His bright, deep eyes greeted me warmly. He's a rare man who is taller than me and incredibly handsome, but I felt mostly scared and self conscious in our short embrace, albeit intrigued.
I had made a promise to myself years before - before leaving Oklahoma to see the world - that I would run towards anything that makes my soul scream, whether in joy OR fear. If something made my spirit shriek, I pledged to look at it.
Thus I knew that since coming into Quinn's presence made me feel super uncomfortable, there would be more for me to look at here, something juicy. It was terrifying...and it felt great.
As I was at that time a master of disconnecting from anything real, especially any personal experience, I denied and stuffed those feelings and never once spoke of it.
So used to a life of apathy and numbness, of being with people who couldn't see me, I continued right along carrying myself as I always had. I pretended I hadn't sensed something big and meaningful to explore. I enjoyed the dozen or so people who lived here, but I was so nervous to even look at Quinn that I almost completely avoided him.
I also ignored my not infrequent accidents. From the sliced wrist I arrived with to cutting my fingers making dinner to dropping things to almost breaking my ankle, I plowed along like nothing happened.
My first night at the @gardenofeden!
Instead of addressing any of that, I had conversations about the weather. I expressed my interest in yoga. In those first days, I lit fires. I made vinegar. I composted. I recycled. I pulled weeds. I meditated. I assisted some Italians in making ravioli from scratch. I showered outside at sunrise. I ate as much food as I wanted, and slept when I was tired. I felt wholesome and good.
It was sweet, like Little House on the Prairie with wifi, and I kept it nice and superficial, normal and comfortable for me.
Within a month, shit got real.
My mission was about to reveal itself, and life would never be the same.
Do you want to know why I live @gardenofeden?
Join me in the next post, for the story of how I fell fast and deep into what I thought was love.