Comments for Motuv.org

Comment on Matt / Localogy by Mark

Mark — Tue, 24 Apr 2012 17:50:41 +0000

What an interesting entry–after considering it, I have discovered that I have had similar experiences. I find that the urban wilderness connects me to that idea of the earth as the living being quicker than being out in the more obvious wilderness. Seems odd. I guess the glaring juxtaposition of the tree in the urban desert amplifies the otherwise quiet communication it offers. I wonder if that experience happens to most people when they see a tree fighting through the concrete. Either way, thank you for your thoughts, I will certainly be mindful of them today.

Comment on RECORDED RIGHT ACTION by Ellwood

Ellwood — Sun, 04 Mar 2012 06:01:54 +0000

I thought I would share a gift that was given to me. Two incredible people in my life handed me their most precious and prized possession. Tonight, I cradled the child of these dear friends in my arms and existed within one of the most primitive and fiercely joyful moments I have yet experienced in this life.

Comment on RECORDED RIGHT ACTION by Lee

Lee — Wed, 22 Feb 2012 06:49:17 +0000

I am working to come to terms with the truth of my most vivid dream.

Comment on Matt / Localogy by troy

troy — Wed, 22 Feb 2012 01:27:22 +0000

Well written and conceived, Matt. Keep that open dialogue going . . .

This reminded me of a documentary I watched recently…it starts a little slow, but it is pretty impressive in its scope and direction. Some of the urban green concepts are pretty cool and remind me a bit of LION hunting. And, of course, there’s a little Fuller in there for good measure:

http://www.2012timeforchange.com/

Comment on RECORDED RIGHT ACTION by Lee Lazorchack

Lee Lazorchack — Mon, 06 Feb 2012 07:34:41 +0000

I let the very old, and very beautiful Costa Rican woman go ahead of me in the (very long) restroom line

Comment on RECORDED RIGHT ACTION by Lee Lazorchack

Lee Lazorchack — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 19:09:18 +0000

My work week is 8 straight days long, currently in the winter cold, in the desert mountains of Utah. I had one of the greatest shifts yet this past week, but at the end of the day on Wednesday, we are all tired, and ready to leave the field, dirt and grit and all. A few months ago now, there was a horrible incident in the field, involving 3 students reacting in strong physical violence towards staff. I happened to be one of those staff. Since then, I have slowly come to a reckoning with 2 of the 3 students, on their own time, when they felt ready to talk about the physical and emotional pain they inflicted, and consequently felt. Each of these instances leaving me feeling just a bit lighter, reaffirming why I toil in the dirt and cold in the middle of Utah. There was only 1 student left, who I had not come to terms with, who, for safety concerns, I had not as much as seen. 3 months later, uncommon even that this student would still be in the field. This student, stubborn, and the most angry. Hurting, struggling to progress past a point of simple cooperation with the program. I had resigned myself to the reality that 2 out of 3 was good odds, and to just let it go, I wasn’t going to have that moment of reckoning. This week, as we’re making the rounds changing out staff, barreling through the snow and mud and jeep trails in the larger than life Excursion truck, we stop at the last group to switch over, I jump out of the vehicle, filthy, happy and anxious, to unload gear, and to my complete surprise that student is standing right there outside of the truck. She looks me right in my eyes for the first time since the incident, and says, “Lee, can we talk please?” After a sincere apology and a hug of the same caliber, all those present, there were 10 of us, circled up and a fellow co staff of mine preformed a simple but graceful sage smudge ceremony, in which we all cleanse ourselves with the smoke of the dried sage, and give the words, “for forgiveness, and letting go” to the circle. As the smudge stick approached me, I was struggling to take deep breaths so that I would have the strength in my voice to say these words without wavering, and as I am holding this piece of the Earth, made sacred by our combined intentions, I let all the frustration and anger and sadness and negativity from the past 3 months go, and handed the smudge to my right to her as she looked right at me and said the same. I, of course, cried tears of release and joy, hugged her once more, and we all piled into the vehicle to continue the trip out of the field.

I am beyond grateful for the quiet effort of my co staff to make that possible, and the insight and strength it must have taken for that young struggling teenager to stand up after so many months, and want to make things right. To forgiveness and letting go.

Comment on RECORDED RIGHT ACTION by Emily Holstad

Emily Holstad — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 01:28:37 +0000

Recently, I have shared old and dear memories with a new friend, stories and baked goods with a neighbor, and just today, I gave away my favorite chocolate chip cookie recipe to a co-worker.

Comment on RECORDED RIGHT ACTION by Joe Smith

Joe Smith — Mon, 16 Jan 2012 21:07:02 +0000

I danced to some latin music with a pretty senorita and then sat on beach sipping sweet tea and howling at the moon.

Comment on RECORDED RIGHT ACTION by Jeremy

Jeremy — Sun, 15 Jan 2012 21:12:10 +0000

Today I worked on a website for a friend’s project

Comment on RECORDED RIGHT ACTION by Katie Carlson

Katie Carlson — Sun, 15 Jan 2012 06:16:07 +0000

Took the time and careful consideration to make each of my holiday gifts this year from a culmination of scraps and nature’s offerings that I had collected and pieced together with my own hands.

Gave a short-sleeve-wearin’ man on the bus my coat. Granted, I was wearing 3, but still..