Living in Facebook Village

 

 

Blog for April 7, 2009

   

       Living in Petersburg is a dichotomy. We live in the middle of wilderness, but in a tiny town with no secrets. It is like living in a fish bowl in the middle of the deep blue sea.

        In my town, if you walked down Main Street, you could figure out many of the stories without asking a question. Weddings are listed in front of the gift store. Next door, births are announced in the window of the clothing store. Want to know what people do all day? See the calendar at the side of the bank, or look in the windows of the Drugstore for the latest achievements of local kids. Of course, endless events are posted one on top of another on every bulletin board, and there is even a specific bulletin board just for pets. The radio station announces who is looking for a house, who found some keys, and what the elementary school kids and the old people are eating today.  When all this busyness is through, your name ends up on the door of the Post office, so people can attend your funeral. Our whole town is a Facebook page.

       My life has been a balancing act between needs for connection and solitude. I love the wilderness and I love the town. What works best for me is living close to that border. I could get lost on this island, and my bones would never be found.  On the other hand, my head is so full of the back-stories that even a simple encounter relies as much on history as it does on the present.

        This last weekend was KFSK’s Wearable Art Extravaganza. It is an annual fundraiser where people are encouraged to create art out of found objects that can be worn. This year’s theme was “The World of Contrasts”. It helped to have some back-story, although I think the show was a success on its own merits.

        When one of the medical assistants dressed up as a Dominatrix,  in a dress of recycled materials with a gothic tattoo and a bullwhip, it helped to know her regular persona was as a wholesome young nurse at the clinic. She is the one who takes your blood pressure and temperature, and she has a very sweet, gentle nature. Usually. She did handle the whip expertly though.

 

       Then a group of women came out disguised as colors in the color wheel. It was not hard to determine who was who. We know each other’s movements and shapes. I can recognize people from their walk, or their gestures.

          The familiarity is both a blessing and a curse. This kind of closeness can be a comfort or it can ride up on you like cheap underwear.  I alternate between overcommitting myself to needs in the town and isolation .  I love the closeness and it also gets unbearable, but I would probably choose it again.

           Living this closely in community has taught me  about accountability and the importance of service. I keep relearning  tolerance, and am trying to get a handle on setting boundaries. There is still so much to learn.

            Sitting with Hunger this week, trying not to distract myself with lists and compulsive eating and mindless television has been hard. I wanted to know why Hunger was here, and he said, “Because you called me”.  I wanted to ask more, but Hunger interrupted, “Lady, I don’t like talking. You want to chat, call Faith or Trust”.

 

 

            I remember what my wise friend Edna said about all of us living with our hungers, and  that the key is balance. So I asked Hunger about Moderation, and he just scoffed at me. “Do YOU even KNOW her?”

             Not so much. Maybe instead of concentrating on Hunger, I will think more about balance. Finding a way to live in Facebook Village without losing my mind means finding out about Moderation. Maybe Hunger will slink back out the door, and make room for Faith and Trust again. I think they were just out on a  coffeebreak anyway…They never go too far.