A Sunday thought on radical leaps of faith.
Today, we welcome up a small yoga retreat, who, like the many diverse groups who gather on our land, will likely spend a good amount of time in our Gathering Forest Yurt.
While the space is calm, grounded, and in a way, the heart of our experience, its birth was rooted in a nearly reckless leap of total collapse.
You see, when we began the process of purchasing this land, there were a lot of unknowns, including whether or not the purchase would even get over the finish line.
It took months of scheming, and there was really no guarantee that, at the end of the effort, it would come together.
BUT... if it did come together, we knew a Gathering Forest Yurt was a must. So what was one of those reckless schemes that nearly broke the bank?
Well, assuming it would all pan out, we had to purchase a 30-foot yurt well in advance in order to have one ready to raise once the snow melted. So, without any guarantee that Maple was ours, we maxed out nearly every credit card we had to ensure this 30-foot nest would be ready and waiting.
Fast-forward three months, waiting for it was the very first improvement made upon the then-thawing cement foundation of what was once a double-wide manufactured home.
So what's the lesson? Well, it's not really a lesson. It's a warning:
When your dreams confront possibility, there is usually a moment, or two, where you have to bet the farm and then some. Often, a perfect guarantee of an outcome simply won't exist. And in that space, you've got to trust your gut.
Our view, and bet, has always been this... if enough people need something to be, then it's probably meant to be. And if we are some of those people, then it might as well be us working to bring it into being.
And truthfully, we never even considered what we would do with a 30-foot yurt had things not panned out.
Once you're on the island, it helps to burn the ship.