Chamblee54

This is a repost from 2015. It was a simpler time. … It is the first full day back in town, after the 2015 fall gathering. If you have to ask where I was, you don’t need to know. Today, the custom of the morning circle is brought back. This is where anyone, who wants to, can talk about the gathering.
Since this is the return to solitary city life, rather than in an improvised community, this will be a one man morning circle. I’m Luther, and my preferred pronoun is he. Pronouns are not a big deal to me. Since this is a one man circle, a singular pronoun is preferred. The concept of using they, as a non-binary alternative to he/she, is confusing and yucky.
Some things are so much easier in this life. One of the chores I assigned myself was clearing weeds off a stone staircase. One of the tools needed an adjustment. I spent a half hour trying to find a phillips head screwdriver. Just now, I needed a flat head screwdriver to pry open a zipper. I found one in less than a minute. City life has advantages.
I don’t pay much attention to omens. If I did, I may have left after the first day. I put my tent up to a group of people who played canned music on a device. I moved my tent, further down the yurt yard. When I was putting my tarp up, I saw a seven foot non poisonous snake. This reptile made another appearance a couple of mornings later, when I was returning from my morning piss. After that, I looked where I stepped. The sticks always seemed to be moving.
Very few people send postcards from gatherings. If they did this time, they would not say “the weather is beautiful wish you were here.” It rained every day, except for the last day. It drizzled. It thundered. It splattered. It dripped. It took away the sun. The paths turned into mud. Everything got wet. It was horrible. Yes, the rain did force people to stay indoors and talk to each other.
There were some wonderful moments. The Know Talent show was not planned at first, and then a wonderful man agreed to facilitate. I brought some poems. It was the first time I had read in public. I was one of the last people to perform, and was wondering if it would happen at all, or if anyone would be left to watch. Fortunately, I did not have to follow an amazing musical act. The act before me was, literally, falling down drunk. Performance art.
Somehow, things came together. Meals were served, and were usually fabulous. The dishes got washed. The costumes were a sight. You could overlook things like saturday morning. I was making my mandatory visit to the chapel. Someone said, could you hand me some toilet paper. Another voice said, there is none here either, and no box on the top shelf.
Sunday, the sun came out. I took down my tent, and got stung by a yellow jacket. I got a wheel barrow, and almost slipped in the mud. This was the last time I would walk through the yurt yard mud, hopefully for the rest of my life. I loaded the vehicle, and started up the driveway. Someone was walking in the driveway, I lost the momentum, and had to back up and try again. The second time I made it up the hill. The rest of the journey home was uneventful.
So what did I take away from the gathering? There were moments when I looked up to the sky and said thank you g-d for letting me do this. There were moments on a dance floor surrounded by spectacular human beings. There were also moments of being wet, cold, and totally miserable. I will probably want to do it again. Blessed be.