Life around here is slowing down, or at least, we hope it will eventually. Truthfully, it will probably speed up first. It has been a long-coming rude awakening, this reality we all woke up to one day. The reality that, despite our desire to form and run organizations that meet essential community needs (healthy food and reliable transportation), they will never become truly sustainable unless we find volunteers willing to make scheduled commitments and train other people to help us.
If only this were simple within the context of the gardens and bike shop– this sharing of the burden(s). We have always valued decentralized leadership in many of our endeavors. We have found ease and meaning in depending on one another to take responsibility of nearly everything. I think, in conversation, we would all be quick to emphasize the importance of a self-sustaining organization that depends on the many, not the few.
And yet, that’s not how it has been, or how it is. Getting there is one of our new objectives. On some days, it feels like a desperate and exhausting reach for survival. There are also days when honesty dissolves the confusion, and the new clarity of our predicament is ripe and refreshing. There is a whole promising world of hope that honesty delivers you.
I go through seasons when words exhaust me. Actually, words have exhausted me ever since I moved to Franklinton. There just doesn’t seem enough of them to flesh out the intangibles here. Instead, look through the photos below. You’ll see the following beautiful things: the pie I made–which I affectionately refer to as Peach Berry Dream Cloud, a tray full of beautiful yellow Franklinton Gardens tomatoes recently harvested, Thursday night potluck, playing whiffle ball in the median with neighbor kids, Brian and Jy getting their dance on, cutie baby Rosali (light of our lives) at the produce stand, etc.