In the fall of 2000, a woman in my primal therapy group named T talked about a gathering in the woods somewhere in Massachusetts. Thirty or so people camping and doing diverse activities including sweatlodges. Though she recommended, even implored, the rest of us to try it, neither the event – nor her for that matter – registered on my radar screen. When T also expressed in group that she was looking for a boyfriend, I cringed and wanted to be invisible to her. Funny because she expressed no interest in me though I was concerned that my presenting issue of being in a sexless relationship made me fair game, and I wouldn’t know how to deal with her if she came on to me (as I had such weak boundaries). No way, I thought. She’s eight years older than me. That’s nuts! She had a similar haircut to my girlfriend M though T was a few inches taller, ganglier, making her look like a stretched out M. At some point when I felt safe enough I approached T about her movement workshops as I knew I needed some physical activity. This led to going out for tea where I became enchanted with the way she described weaving pagan-like stories into her movement exercises. I pulled her into a post-group meet for tea as she always darted home after group. At tea, everyone including her decided to meet at the beach the following day. I was excited about this though I wouldn’t acknowledge why. When I got there, I couldn’t find anyone which threw me into a tailspin around my abandonment issues. I projected all my stuff on the organizer as if she alone were responsible. I felt a bit better when T said in group that she wished I had made it.
I soon began going to T’s movement workshops and walking her to the train station afterward. We buddied for each other, meaning we took turns holding space for one another in order to therapeutically process stuff. (That’s okay in this therapy and besides we were destined to go for training as therapists. In fact, I already had started training.) Once when hugging her goodbye, my body let me know it liked her. Uh oh. Sure enough, a week or so afterward, she told me she liked me and wanted to get physical. I told her no. I have a girlfriend. Yeah but you’re not having sex. True, but as long as she’s my girlfriend …. I was hiding. I had stopped dealing with the lack of passion in my relationship and sex had become an abstraction to me. Nor was I willing to acknowledge, let alone negotiate, my desire for T. I did know I enjoyed spending Sunday evenings at her apartment where we buddied or did some arts and crafts. I felt nurtured there, empowered even. But desire? Intimacy?
Summer of 2001 T pitched EarthStory again, appealing to my purported desire to grow, though in truth I was resisting growth. I looked at the brochure, at the guys with long-hair running around the field half-dressed and wrote it off as a bunch of hippy wannabes.
9/11 drew me and M closer though I continued visiting T. My not wanting to leave M or at least sleep with T caused conflict and we nearly stopped seeing each other. Come January, my boundaries softened and we became affectionate, holding each other after buddy sessions. One evening Marley’s Song of Freedom came on my car radio calling – no, demanding -- my passion to find its freedom. I grabbed T and kissed her passionately.
Soon after, while shopping with M for bedding, I hesitated to buy something. M thought I struggled with the price when in reality I sensed there was another reason which I couldn’t fully admit to myself: M would not be around much longer. One evening, I said something jokingly in an English accent to M and, looking at me funny, asked me if something was going on with me and T. (T is English.) She was intuitive that way. I lied, telling her don’t be ridiculous. T is eight years older, yadda yadda. Then I recanted. I was due to visit T that evening but told M that nothing would happen, that I always kept my clothes on. Famous last words. She implored me not to go, that she had a bad feeling about this. She even offered sex. Too little too late. I went.
I had a typically great evening at T’s and was about to leave. Looks like I would be keeping it in my pants. But then there was this little tantalizing exchange between us which I’ll keep to myself. Oh well. You can guess the rest.
I returned home terrified as M’s behavior was unpredictable. I showered and came to bed but couldn’t sleep. Sure enough, at some point I sensed, and confirmed, M looming over me, sniffing along my body like a lioness examining its prey. That morning she caught my sheepish glance as I stepped out of the bathroom and she knew. She packed her stuff and her friend came and got her. This was March 2002. From that point, T and I became partners.
As summer approached, T pitched EarthStory. I had already been on her ride for several months, meeting her different tribes, participating in sharing circles and the like. Okay, I said. I would try EarthStory for a long weekend which is about as long as I’d ever gone camping. For you? Yes, I’ll do it for you. But if I don’t like it, I’m out of there.
To complicate things, I kicked a camouflaged cup of tea on my multicolored carpet (that T put there) and severely burned my foot. I was on crutches and now I was going camping? I would’ve said no but for the thought of rotting in my apartment alone or at my job while T was enjoying the woods. Also, an EarthStorian named Lorrie encouraged me to come, saying I would be handled, even wheel-barreled around. I couldn’t resist that kind of attention. I’m there.
In actuality, when I got to EarthStory, I resisted any babying though I soaked in the general attention I received from Lorrie, T, and others. Something in me was opening commensurate with this very open space. T nicknamed me Jimbala and everyone began calling me that. The name has stuck. My tribal name, especially with this tribe, is Jimbala.
During the day, people offered these miniworkshops in everything from reiki to gender diversity. Heck, I decided to hold one in voice toning. Two people showed up, Bill and Lorrie. Hey, it was a start. And by the end, I felt like I had given them something. I even helped build a sweatlodge – and went in! Evenings were spent around a fire, listening or playing music, telling stories, playing word games. One night we even had a talent show. Though we had someone actually cook the meals (which were vegan) everyone pitched in to prep the meals, keep the place clean and the gathering running. Like a pumping heart, I filled with love and returned it. I remember sitting against a haystack with my arms around two young men calling them my brothers. I experienced a continuous stream of crushes (though I chose not to pursue them as my relationship with T was understood to be monogamous). Yes I stayed the entire week.
That was EarthStory 2002. I’ve gone every summer since. I would expect the ride would get old. Some who don’t attend regularly say it’s become predictable. EarthStory began nineteen years ago as a grassroots deep ecology gathering of environmental activists. There was no designated paid cook or prescheduled week of events and some of the activities were seemingly edgier than the current ones. It has become gentler, safer, with people bringing children (though they’re usually kept away from the emotionally charged activities and nude swimming) and not all activities are deep-ecology based.
T and I broke up in 2005 though we continued attending EarthStory and maintaining our friendship. Community glue, including EarthStory’s, has been helpful to our friendship. At the same time, pursuing (or at least indulging) crushes in our mutual communities, however, has been, at least for me, dodgier. She can get jealous. I can get more jealous. Well, as they say, AFGO (i.e. Another F___ing Growth Opportunity), right? Over time, however, it’s feeling like less of an issue. Though I know I still get jealous – hey lots of situations beyond her make me jealous – my love for her, her well-being, and wanting her to get everything she desires has come to exceed my jealousy. (As we haven’t broached the topic of late, I won’t speak for her.)
In light of the critics, I began reevaluating EarthStory in 2007. I had just returned from a sex-positive event called New Culture Summer Camp and became involved with a sex-positive intentional community called OneTaste. EarthStory still seemed to have sex in the closet. Sure two people would sometimes exit into the woods in the evening and emerge together in the morning and you knew they hooked up. But I rarely saw public displays of affection beyond hugs. I.e. no making out. I even held a miniworkshop in the lodge, away from everyone, on sexuality but there weren’t many participants. So my judgments started, that sex / sexuality was taboo and needed to remain hidden. (The same held true for conflict. People seemed to avoid it.)
When EarthStory 2008 was imminent, I considered not going. In fact, I had a slew of other things on my plate, OneTaste, tantra workshops, Zegg Forum training. Yet EarthStory over the years had given me so much. It was still very much important to T and though we hadn’t been a couple for several years now, I valued the love for EarthStory we had in common. Also, there was some concern about adequate enrollment. I certainly wanted to contribute to ensure its survival: even if I were to deem it old hat or limited for me, it could be miraculous for a new attendee. I decided to come.
I remember arriving, stepping out of the car and smelling the trees and knowing that for that reason alone, I was in the right place. While I don’t remember many particulars beyond a string of crushes – and a very hot kiss in someone’s tent during a thunderstorm – I do remember having both good and necessary experiences that in some way mirrored who I had become. Though I couldn’t articulate how, in some way it continued to serve me despite its predictability. I would attend it again the following year and hope to understand more.
EarthStory 2009. There were some shifts. The offerings were pretty much the same. The facilitation for both the camp and workshops however seemed smoother, less heavy-handed. Participants were more willing to use the resources I arranged – including mediation, emotional release processes, and clearings – to resolve and release stuff. Yes my crushes continued. I even pursued a few, attempting to connect a little deeper with these people than I typically would. In fact, I attempted to connect deeper with others as well. Several personal revelations, unique to this EarthStory, arose. For one, I am quick to assume and slow to evaluate. However, I was blessed with having many of my assumptions be followed with countering experiences that dispelled my assumptions and eventually I came to realize this m.o. of mine. (Looking forward, my work here then is to resist assumptions and proactively replace assumptions with investigation.) I had another revelation about the nature of my physical attraction but am keeping that one to myself at least until I understand it better. I also had a revelation which addresses why I would continue coming to EarthStory. Yes the schedule and events are, for me, predictable. However, because I am constantly transforming (as a result of all I’m involved with year-round) how I respond to, what I bring to, and what I get from the events – and the spaces between the events -- is anything but predictable. That is, the events are the same though my experience is not.
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