Journal of the VOL Community

By D’Coda 

A couple months ago, on our private VOL email forum, I was asked a question by one of our members and he recently asked if my answer could be posted in the Journal. Part of my motivation in writing for the Journal is to help potential new members get to know me since we will be living together if they move to VOLshire. So I said, “OK” and the following comes directly from that email exchange:
 

On Saturday 23 June 2007, D’Coda wrote:

>> Garry asked a rather deep question:
>> > My question for D’Coda:  you are the only person we know who recognizes most edible plants and helpful herbs in the woods and who is not at a loss living without the grid, a car, the mega-market down the block, and an industrial support system.  How did you come to be the way you are?  Of course you’ve told me a lot, or some, about your path… but can you describe your process step by step such that someone could, at least imaginatively, follow you in the process?
 

D’Coda:
> This sounds like a request for an autobiography, surely that’s not what
> you’re after. I’m reminded of  Joseph Campbells’ words: “What each must
> seek in his life never was on land or sea. It is something out of his
> own unique potentiality for experience, something that never has been
> and never could have been experienced by anyone else.”
>
> Colin Wilson wrote, “Modern civilisation, with its mechanised rigidity
> is producing more outsiders than ever before - people who are too
> intelligent to do some repetitive job, but not intelligent enough to
> make their own terms with society.”
>
> “Those “intelligent enough” to make their own terms with society are
> what I refer to as artists of life. The outsider views himself as a
> product of a culture he rejects - the artist views himself as a
> culture-builder. As would-be artists, we begin with the right attitudes,
> or as we Buddhists might say, right views - taking a mature approach
> beyond mere protest and complaint - accepting the responsibiliy to
> create the life we would live.”
>
> I think you’ve read Peck’s “The Road Less Traveled”  (By the way, he is
> one of the few psychiatrists I respect). He makes a point in his newer
> book about how, as youngsters we experience being kicked out of the
> garden of eden..and we can’t go back, we can only go forward through the
> desert of life but that journey is hard and consciousness (which is what
> kicks us out of eden) is painful. And so most people stop their journey
> as quickly as they can. They find what looks like a safe place, burrow
> into the sand, and stay there rather than go forward through the painful
> desert, which is filled with cactuses and thorns and sharp rocks.. Even
> if most people have been taught at one time or another that “those
> things that hurt, instruct”, the education of the desert is so painful
> that they discontinue it as early as they can.  Peck says that those who
> stop learning and growing early in their lives and stop changing and
> become fixed, do not grow up. They remain children. covered in a very
> thin veneer of adulthood. He says most adults are still emotional
> children. .
>
> He says that what characterizes most immature people is that they sit
> around complaining that life doesn’t meet their demands. Argue for your
> limitations, and sure enough they are yours. But what characterizes
> those relative few who are fully mature is that they regard it as their
> responsibility–even as an opportunity–to meet life’s demands.
>
> So, in my opinion, the ability to live the simple life is for grown ups.
> To live it well, is for grown up artists of life.
>
> I’m currently typing up material for new members and sending it to David
> to post on our members area and everything in that series is there to
> assist you all in this creative process. Clearly, if we are to
> accomplish this, we will require a new image of what living in the
> wilderness as a community involves, in particular the work
> involved…what that work is and what it is for. It can re-activate the
> “growing up” process and teach how to manage pain and suffering.
>
> Perhaps you are thinking that I under went some kind of transition, or
> awakening, or change that allowed me to shift from life as a “consumer”
> to this sort of life? And its that transition, the process of it that
> you’d like to know about? How to make a successful transition into the
> “simple life”? Again, the material David is now posting to the member’s
> area is going to answer that question better than I can in a single
> email. But here is a little personal info that may answer your question
> in part.
>
> Garry, I’ve been preparing for this kind of life since birth. I was a
> precocious child and quite literally, headed out from home to trek into
> the unknown wilderness of North Dakota at age four. I was looking for
> people who “got it”, who seemed like my tribe. My family life was
> loving, no problems there, I was just bored with what it had to offer. I
> knew there was more.  The city searched for me and a woman caught me
> with an egg sandwich when I was hungry, the police picked me up and
> threatened to put me in jail if I ever did that again. I thought the
> police were very rude and decided that I’d never again have anything to
> do with those who stood in the way of me completing my search. . Nor
> would I ever again eat an egg sandwich. So, I headed out for Peck’s
> “desert” early and with determination. I’ve been journeying ever since.
> Now I journey in one spot. I’ve been all about “growing up” at whatever
> cost in terms of pain and suffering. And I’ve found enough beauty and
> joy to keep me going (Peck’s oasis).
>
> I did get side tracked into the adventures of life in the world and it
> never seemed like it was time to actually make the break.I was always
> heavily involved with family, relationships, career, and never knew
> other people who shared my interest in this lifestyle so it was left to
> percolate in the background. No matter what I was doing though, I
> continued to study what I thought I would need to know for it to work,
> for example; gardening, food prep & preservation, herb craft, medical
> self-care, primitive skills, psychological self-care, etc.. I continued
> to know that I was ultimately destined to live a very simple life in the
> wilds, preferably with a small community of like minded friends.
> Everything else that I was involved in, the stuff of the civilized
> world, was regarded as important for deepening my understanding,
> experience to broaden my view, but nothing to hang on to.
>
> My role models were, from the beginning of my life, enlightened
> spiritual masters who were in the world but not of it. If I could choose
> someone to be like, it would be someone like Milarepa or
> Padmasambhava…and this orientation really took hold of me when I was
> five and had my first encounter with such a teacher, who taught me how
> to meditate. From my various teachers, yogis to shamen, and my
> experiences with death, I learned to value the inner over the outer. To
> minimize my physical needs since possessions have a tendency to possess
> their owner.But I’m not an ascetic, the “middle way” makes sense to me
> because extremes in any direction wind up depleating our inner
> resources. I feel gratitude for everything that’s available to support
> my well-being and the well-being of others…such gratitude leads to
> knowing when one has enough. Knowing when we have enough is a mental
> ability that our consumer culture makes every effort to rub out.
> Gratitude is a fine antidote to “shopping fever”.
>
> I’ve deliberately cultivated the mental habit of questionning and
> experimenting to test truth claims.I gave up having a car when I lived
> in L.A. and the reasons were A) I noticed that it ate my money. And that
> the same was true for nearly all my friends. I would save up some money
> for a certain goal, then my car would break down and the repair costs
> seemed to equal whatever I had saved up. I often had to choose between
> paying utility bills or car insurance. My friends would lament that cars
> ate money but “what can you do?” in Los Angeles, one simply HAD to have
> a car, there was no choice in the matter. We would long to change career
> paths, maybe start a business or something else, but stayed with jobs we
> didn’t want because paying for our cars didn’t allow for taking
> financial risks. In L.A. cars OWN people. B) I questionned the premise
> one had to have a car. It did seem true since so much commuting was
> involved in everyday life and the public transportation system isn’t
> that great in L.A.
>
> So, I decided to run an experiment to test that truth claim. I parked my
> car and said I wouldn’t drive it again until I HAD to. The car sat in my
> driveway for 3 years, not driven once, and I felt the experiment had run
> its course, I did not need a car in L.A. after all. I had to make some
> changes in my daily routine to live without it, but those changes turned
> out to be healthy ones. I sold my car. ( even though it made a fabulous
> laundry hamper) So, not having a car here isn’t a big shock to me, I had
> given it up for years before I came here.
>
> One of the more recent truth claims I’ve challenged is the one that says
> a woman can’t live alone in the wilderness.
>
> As a young child I spent a lot of time in the Colorado forest, sometimes
> days at a time, setting up a camp for myself and learning Native
> American ways. When my home life became violent, I would sneak my
> younger siblings out of the house and into the woods until it was safe
> to bring them home. I learned that there is safety in the forest and, to
> a great extent, the forest parented me. When I was troubled, the trees
> comforted me. I also had (& still have) a Native American spirit guide
> who taught me.
>
> In 1997 I realized that I had put off making the big leap long enough
> and it was time to act. I had all of the typical excuses for not doing
> it though. I didn’t know where to go, or who to go with, I didn’t have
> any money, it seemed like a shot in the dark. My life in L.A. was
> extremely comfortable and full of opportunity. I was very well connected
> in a town where that counts for a lot. But I saw the signs that it was
> time to act. I sensed that if I didn’t act right then, I may never again
> be able to.It felt like a window of opportunity to make the break had
> opened but I hadn’t a clue where the window was.  It was just something
> in my spirit that said “Its time to go to the wilds now”. The signs I
> saw were not my primary reasons for going.  My reasons were far deeper,
> you could call it destiny.I spent about a year trying to hone in on the
> details of my move. But I realized that nothing was going to happen
> until I made a decision in my heart. And that was all that I really
> needed to do. So, in 1998 I made that decision and all of the pieces
> began to fall together that led me here. I had to be able to make a firm
> decision without the supporting facts to back it up. I had to be able to
> say “I’m doing this” without being able to provide convincing reasons,
> or even the ability to do it — by our culture’s standards. . It was
> like stepping into the Void. Laurence Boldt expresses it very well…
> “As the innocent infant relies upon the mother for sustenance, so the
> innocent wanderer, following his native compassion and bliss, relies
> upon the natural intelligence of life to sustain him.” It was time to
> test the truth of this idea.
>
> I made another, related decision. I had spent my first 50 years
> traveling the world and exploring all it had to offer. I decided that I
> would dedicate my second 50 years to living in one place and exploring
> that one place just as fully — that half of my life could be spent
> exploring the outer things, and the other half could be spent exploring
> the inner things. I believe that this creates a very well balanced
> experience of life. Its similar to the way of the Hindu who recognize
> different stages of growth, with the final stage being that of the
> sanyasin who goes into retreat to develop their inner life…after
> having given of themselves fully to worldly duties. Because my life in
> the world was so rich, I was able to give it up, satisfied that I had
> seen and experienced all that I needed to understand it. There wasn’t
> anything left that was unexperienced and tempting me to seek it out.
> When you can say, “Been there, done that” its not so hard to move on to
> new stages.And as T.S. Eliot said, “Only those who will risk going too
> far can possibly find out how far one can go.” One simply must find out.
>
> So my transition was triggered by a decision made in my heart, stepping
> in to the Void with trust in spiritual guidance, and the knowledge that
> the wilderness was home. Another factor which has served me well is that
> I am never more ecstatic than when I’m learning something. Each day I
> awake with the joy that I’m going to learn something new. This
> attraction to learning, for its own sake, makes it easy and fun for me
> to learn what I need to know to live this life. What I want most from
> life, the opportunity to learn, comes to me without effort, without
> money, without the stuff of the world.
>
> My transition has been eased by the help I’ve recieved from our members,
> and friends. One of the important factors about “the simple life” is
> that relationships take on greater value. Taking care of one’s
> possessions gives way to taking care of one’s relationships. And not
> just with other people, but with all of the living beings.When you don’t
> have a lot of stuff to give, you learn to give of yourself…and that
> turns out to be something that others hunger for since it is not
> commonly found in our culture. Notice how much money people are willing
> to pay just to have someone take the time to sit down and really listen
> to them. There is an interpersonal connection vacuum in this society.
> We’ve been taught to fill that vacuum with “stuff” and when we find this
> oddly insufficient and unsatisfying, we take drugs, TV,  or alchohol to
> smooth it over…or go shopping.
>
> I have a sense of purpose, beyond my self-development,  that keeps me
> going.  I need to master the simple life style because many people will
> find themselves thrust into it unprepared and they will need to see
> examples of how it can be a good life.  There have to be people already
> doing it, with joy. So, the call I heard so very long ago, was to place
> me in this situation, where I could learn the beauty and value of a
> simple life and share that with people who fear it as a threatening form
> of deprivation.
>
> In closing I’ll use the words of Anais Nin, “Life shrinks or expands in
> proportion to one’s courage.”(snip)

> all the best,
> D’Coda