Entrapment/Rejection
Fear of entrapment and/or rejection are two of the more compelling flight triggers. They are quite a dynamic duo. Am I afraid you will use me to death or not use me at all? Whichever way I process it, flight is my go-to reflex. Staying in one place is too dangerous. Sleeping in one place two nights in a row makes it easier for predators to find me. Yes, I have long recognized this as the voice of my hyper-vigilance. Is there a surgical procedure for that yet? So far, recognition remains a dysfunctional distance from remedy.
This is my third wake up in the Urban Homestead for this go-round. It feels different. The hubs middle-aged sons and their significant others are all still hovering, needy demands and all. Not-working hobbies they should be able to enjoy themselves are as neglected as ever, awaiting my not-working pleasures. What's not to enjoy about scrubbing floors, scraping off accumulations of household dander (dust) and arranging the new influx of yaddahs from the in-law estate? Anybody wanna hear about the research data I gathered in the field?
Herstorically, my returns from the field to Mom World have felt like a silent closing of domestic waters over my head, leaving me to feel like I am drowning in a sea of dysfunctional assumption. This time around, "The Kids" are almost feeling like middle-aged adults and at least not rolling their eyes when asked to get their grown-up toy piles to a place where nobody is tripping over them.
I still don't get to head back to the job site today. The new influx of stuff from the tri-city shuffle hit the accumulated neglect and the resulting mess is far from cleaned-up. Still, it feels different from the previous rounds. Is that appreciation and willingness to step up to the plate I see in the eyes of my entitled middle-aged children? Denial on my end of the "Toxic Mom Taunts?"
We see. . . For now, there is extra work to be done. Or am I just "enjoying" the Not Working hobbies?
Replies
Groups seem to have momentum. Some groups work hard. Some play hard and do no work. I've been in both types of situations. Just my experience, but with adults is almost impossible to change.
I don't miss living with other adults.
There are quite allot of folks who don't believe post-adolescent change is possible. I do. It is a question of faith. All faith is valid. To each her/his own. . .
For sure, my cheeks ain't as tight as they were forty years ago when I was 22. The rest of me feels different, too, including my ability to play well with others. Proof unavailable.
It's been a huge job for you arf...... I've found that as I've gotten older my BS meter is less tolerant as well..... Big hug.... How's your wee wicked rooster doing sweetie?......xo
The punk rooster's pelt is decorating the new grow room. The gold laced silver feathers he was originally named for are even more beautiful without the punk territorialism. During the territorial disputes, he taught his clutchmates to jump fences and roost in the trees. They are still following his precedent. Sigh. . . Chickens are creatures of habit.
Ha... a type A!
I spent several seasons on a "working homestead." There was a central core group of staff/long term volunteer/work traders, owners, and project hands. Then, there was a focus on projects and they would bring in people for "workshops" and short term volunteer/work trade opportunities so the "group dynamics" would change and evolve depending on the energy from new folks and new projects. Because there was a definite focus on organic farming, natural building and permaculture, mealtimes and chores were usually run in small groups. The work could be hard, especially if it involved large building projects such as a constructing a building. You might be swinging pick-axes for long hours or digging trenches, but at the end of the day a "community focus" kind of took over. If you got burnt out on hard labor, you could switch to working in the gardens or tending goats or running a workshop on canning, making homemade soap or even teaching a new group of people how to make yogurt and goat cheese. I think the "core family members" really benefitted from having other adults around so there were fresh ideas, someone who could play guitar by the campfire or help solve problems with. Chores and hobbies take on a different feel to them when there are lots of helping hands. I don't know what your "urban homestead" is like but I think about my time on the "working homestead" every time I hear you talk about. Your family has been through a lot lately. Hang in there!
Urban Agriculture is approaching "Traditional" here in the boom town which has kept dragging me back for the last 30-odd years. http://www.austintexas.gov/department/sustainable-urban-agriculture . It is a world-wide trend. "Vertical Farming" has even become known on Wall Street.
Absotively the same principle, Flossie. We even have a "Story Fire" pitt to pass the musical instruments around at day's end. Our neighbors are just a little closer. They grow great figs.
The world is running out of "Working Homestead" sized land tracts, even in the so-called, "Third World." What is left of the open acreage is mostly toxic from agricultural practices. We keep bees in a variety of locations. Our city bees are out-performing our country bees by a pretty wide margin.
Same principles. Different realities. Been a long time since I have seen a small town that fits the Country Music stereotype in any language. The 140 acre tract I am heading back to today is future city. The boom is still booming. Fort Worth has almost arrived. Hm-m-m-m. . . The project remains poorly defined. . . Am I setting up the Urban Homestead foundation before the Boomers arrive en masse? We see. . . Letting god lead the dance.