#alternativeliving — Public Fediverse posts
Live and recent posts from across the Fediverse tagged #alternativeliving, aggregated by home.social.
-
This week's Accidental Gods episode was particularly interesting and inspiring for me again: https://media.transistor.fm/5844bc02/95d70a3b.mp3
@Eceni spoke to Michael Taite, who wrote his masters thesis on the idea of self-sufficient, locally built, community owned, eco-friendly villages (Stewardship Freehold Villages). He analyzed the legal and social framework in Britain. And now I wonder: Would that work in Germany, too? 🤔 https://share.transistor.fm/s/5844bc02 #SelfSufficiency #AlternativeLiving -
This week's Accidental Gods episode was particularly interesting and inspiring for me again: https://media.transistor.fm/5844bc02/95d70a3b.mp3
@Eceni spoke to Michael Taite, who wrote his masters thesis on the idea of self-sufficient, locally built, community owned, eco-friendly villages (Stewardship Freehold Villages). He analyzed the legal and social framework in Britain. And now I wonder: Would that work in Germany, too? 🤔 https://share.transistor.fm/s/5844bc02 #SelfSufficiency #AlternativeLiving -
This week's Accidental Gods episode was particularly interesting and inspiring for me again: https://media.transistor.fm/5844bc02/95d70a3b.mp3
@Eceni spoke to Michael Taite, who wrote his masters thesis on the idea of self-sufficient, locally built, community owned, eco-friendly villages (Stewardship Freehold Villages). He analyzed the legal and social framework in Britain. And now I wonder: Would that work in Germany, too? 🤔 https://share.transistor.fm/s/5844bc02 #SelfSufficiency #AlternativeLiving -
This week's Accidental Gods episode was particularly interesting and inspiring for me again: https://media.transistor.fm/5844bc02/95d70a3b.mp3
@Eceni spoke to Michael Taite, who wrote his masters thesis on the idea of self-sufficient, locally built, community owned, eco-friendly villages (Stewardship Freehold Villages). He analyzed the legal and social framework in Britain. And now I wonder: Would that work in Germany, too? 🤔 https://share.transistor.fm/s/5844bc02 #SelfSufficiency #AlternativeLiving -
I normally don't share YouTube videos (because fuck YouTube), but this one feels to important not to: https://youtu.be/mWkF2ZwpRyc
"Why the UK crushed the traveller convoys" read by Dicky Dread from the book he is writing
“The conflict was never simply about caravans or festivals. It became a wider struggle over visibility, land and who gets to live outside conventional systems.”In this video:
– The origins of the traveller convoy movement
– Stonehenge, Beanfield and state confrontation
– How free festivals, ravers and travellers became linked
– Why alternative living became politically controversial#rave #travellers #UK #UnitedKigdom #offGridLife #vanLife #festivals #caravan #convoy #Beanfield #AlternativeLiving #AlternativeLife
-
I normally don't share YouTube videos (because fuck YouTube), but this one feels to important not to: https://youtu.be/mWkF2ZwpRyc
"Why the UK crushed the traveller convoys" read by Dicky Dread from the book he is writing
“The conflict was never simply about caravans or festivals. It became a wider struggle over visibility, land and who gets to live outside conventional systems.”In this video:
– The origins of the traveller convoy movement
– Stonehenge, Beanfield and state confrontation
– How free festivals, ravers and travellers became linked
– Why alternative living became politically controversial#rave #travellers #UK #UnitedKigdom #offGridLife #vanLife #festivals #caravan #convoy #Beanfield #AlternativeLiving #AlternativeLife
-
I normally don't share YouTube videos (because fuck YouTube), but this one feels to important not to: https://youtu.be/mWkF2ZwpRyc
"Why the UK crushed the traveller convoys" read by Dicky Dread from the book he is writing
“The conflict was never simply about caravans or festivals. It became a wider struggle over visibility, land and who gets to live outside conventional systems.”In this video:
– The origins of the traveller convoy movement
– Stonehenge, Beanfield and state confrontation
– How free festivals, ravers and travellers became linked
– Why alternative living became politically controversial#rave #travellers #UK #UnitedKigdom #offGridLife #vanLife #festivals #caravan #convoy #Beanfield #AlternativeLiving #AlternativeLife
-
I normally don't share YouTube videos (because fuck YouTube), but this one feels to important not to: https://youtu.be/mWkF2ZwpRyc
"Why the UK crushed the traveller convoys" read by Dicky Dread from the book he is writing
“The conflict was never simply about caravans or festivals. It became a wider struggle over visibility, land and who gets to live outside conventional systems.”In this video:
– The origins of the traveller convoy movement
– Stonehenge, Beanfield and state confrontation
– How free festivals, ravers and travellers became linked
– Why alternative living became politically controversial#rave #travellers #UK #UnitedKigdom #offGridLife #vanLife #festivals #caravan #convoy #Beanfield #AlternativeLiving #AlternativeLife
-
60 Hours in the Dark
I just completed a 60-hour dark room retreat in my tiny home, in the desert. Total darkness. Not a pinhole of light. The room was sealed with blackout material. Air came through a 4-inch pipe attached to a fan. Food came through a “light-lock” hatch created with blankets (airlock-style). No screens. No timekeeping. No visual reference at all.
I had been wanting to do this for years, and it really only happened after inspiration from Andrew Durham and his book on hygienic dark retreats. His work made this feel simple and possible. I had also known about Sky Cave Retreats for a while, but didn’t want to spend all that money on, quite literally, “nothing.” Sky Cave shows up in articles every so often. It’s quite popular—one of the only places in the United States—and their waitlist is about three years out.
Boulder Gardens is a sanctuary in its own right, so it was the perfect place for something like this. Remote, wild, and quiet. After covering all the windows with plastic and fabric, Josie—my partner—went in first. She made 60 hours look easy. I fed her all kinds of things, but really her job was to sleep. She came out into the blazing sun three days later wearing sunglasses. She said it was great.
The interior of my tiny homeBy 7:25 pm I was inside. The door closed. The world disappeared. Just the white noise from the fan, constantly on. It wasn’t just dark. It was velvety black.
I slept, or drifted, or something in between. Time loosened its grip almost immediately. But in another way, it wasn’t that different from a normal night. I woke a few times, but there was no urgency. I just lay there as long as I could. Normally when I wake up, I start thinking, planning, measuring. I usually can’t wait to get out of bed and begin the day. None of that happened here. I just fell back into sleep.
The first stretch felt long, but not difficult. I noticed small things—light leaks around the door, a faint glow near the food hatch. I blocked them with clothes and a poncho until the room was nearly perfect. Even then, there were moments of light. The radio had the faintest glow, even through three layers of duct tape. Rubbing blankets together created little flashes, but in total darkness they became bright sparkles. In total darkness, even the smallest thing becomes big.
Communication was through handheld radios. I had a high-powered transceiver that could be heard a mile away. I kept it off unless I needed something and placed it near my bed so I wouldn’t lose it. Josie had the other one and kept it on day and night, monitoring me. I recommend radios. People ask if I did this in silence, or if I fasted. No. That would be too much. We communicated briefly but regularly. This was about healing through sleep and darkness—not silence, and not fasting. Knowing someone is there really matters. A couple of times Josie was out of range and couldn’t respond immediately. That part was disorienting, but only for a few minutes. Most of the time, it worked well.
light lock with vent tube going inlight lock opened upFans supplying airFood became an event. Rice, stir fry, soup, tea, smoothies, mint tea, coffee, watermelon juice. Flavors stood out more. Texture mattered more. The sensation of food disappearing into your body is pretty amazing. Food in the dark becomes its own experience, and I was satisfied with about half of what I usually eat.
Pee and poo went into a bucket and out through the light lock. I peed a lot. We also discovered that we didn’t naturally want to drink water, so that has to be intentional. At least 3 liters a day, probably more.
The hours didn’t exactly fly, but they didn’t drag either. Somewhere in there, I realized I was going to make it to 60 hours. That brought a quiet kind of euphoria. It could have easily gone the other way—I could have been bored out of my mind, or quit, or even become afraid—but it didn’t happen. I was in familiar surroundings.
It felt like alignment. Thoughts came and went. At times I was completely absorbed and even forgot I was in darkness. At other times, there was just stillness. No distraction. Just mind.
A couple of times I played my shamanic drum, medicine style, and some chimes. 432 Hz was interesting, but I didn’t do this for more than about 20 minutes.
I had one vivid dream. I was interacting with a friend. Suddenly it occurred to me that I should be in my dark room—on retreat—not with my friend. It felt like a moment out of Inception. Then something shifted—the “kick”—and I was surrounded by bubbles that carried me back. Back into the dark.
I did bump my head three times on the staircase, hard enough to leave marks. My sense of direction was the one thing that became unreliable. It would drift left or right. I would reach for something and miss it completely. Even running my hand along the wall, I could feel how far off I was—sometimes by more than 45 degrees.
By the second day, I could feel the arc completing. I was past the halfway point. I was going to finish. Just one more sleep.
Eventually, first light arrived. Light leaked in around the door and the light lock that Josie had opened for me in the middle of the night. It didn’t feel harsh. My eyes had adjusted. I went outside. The sky was turning pink. I didn’t even need sunglasses.
Afterwards
I would absolutely do this again. I’ve heard that 10-day silent Vipassana meditation retreats can be difficult—probably because of the sustained effort and discipline involved. This was different. This was not difficult. This felt like a vacation into the self.
About Andrew Durham
This experience would not have happened without Andrew Durham.
His work made this feel simple and accessible. No mysticism layered on top. No unnecessary complexity. Just a clear idea: create the conditions, and enter the darkness.
That stayed with me.
He also outlines a path beyond shorter retreats—what he calls the 9-day retreat, a progression that includes both darkness and the gradual reintroduction of light.
I’ve even exchanged a few emails with him. He’s generous with his knowledge, grounded, practical, and willing to help people find their way into this experience.
You can find his work here:
https://darkretreats.com/I highly recommend exploring it if you feel called to try this yourself.
If this sparks your curiosity, feel free to reach out.
#AlternativeLiving #andrewDurham #consciousness #darkRetreat #desertLiving #EcoSpirituality #innerExploration #meditation #minimalism #offGrid #sensoryDeprivation #spirituality -
60 Hours in the Dark
I just completed a 60-hour dark room retreat in my tiny home, in the desert. Total darkness. Not a pinhole of light. The room was sealed with blackout material. Air came through a 4-inch pipe attached to a fan. Food came through a “light-lock” hatch created with blankets (airlock-style). No screens. No timekeeping. No visual reference at all.
I had been wanting to do this for years, and it really only happened after inspiration from Andrew Durham and his book on hygienic dark retreats. His work made this feel simple and possible. I had also known about Sky Cave Retreats for a while, but didn’t want to spend all that money on, quite literally, “nothing.” Sky Cave shows up in articles every so often. It’s quite popular—one of the only places in the United States—and their waitlist is about three years out.
Boulder Gardens is a sanctuary in its own right, so it was the perfect place for something like this. Remote, wild, and quiet. After covering all the windows with plastic and fabric, Josie—my partner—went in first. She made 60 hours look easy. I fed her all kinds of things, but really her job was to sleep. She came out into the blazing sun three days later wearing sunglasses. She said it was great.
The interior of my tiny homeBy 7:25 pm I was inside. The door closed. The world disappeared. Just the white noise from the fan, constantly on. It wasn’t just dark. It was velvety black.
I slept, or drifted, or something in between. Time loosened its grip almost immediately. But in another way, it wasn’t that different from a normal night. I woke a few times, but there was no urgency. I just lay there as long as I could. Normally when I wake up, I start thinking, planning, measuring. I usually can’t wait to get out of bed and begin the day. None of that happened here. I just fell back into sleep.
The first stretch felt long, but not difficult. I noticed small things—light leaks around the door, a faint glow near the food hatch. I blocked them with clothes and a poncho until the room was nearly perfect. Even then, there were moments of light. The radio had the faintest glow, even through three layers of duct tape. Rubbing blankets together created little flashes, but in total darkness they became bright sparkles. In total darkness, even the smallest thing becomes big.
Communication was through handheld radios. I had a high-powered transceiver that could be heard a mile away. I kept it off unless I needed something and placed it near my bed so I wouldn’t lose it. Josie had the other one and kept it on day and night, monitoring me. I recommend radios. People ask if I did this in silence, or if I fasted. No. That would be too much. We communicated briefly but regularly. This was about healing through sleep and darkness—not silence, and not fasting. Knowing someone is there really matters. A couple of times Josie was out of range and couldn’t respond immediately. That part was disorienting, but only for a few minutes. Most of the time, it worked well.
light lock with vent tube going inlight lock opened upFans supplying airFood became an event. Rice, stir fry, soup, tea, smoothies, mint tea, coffee, watermelon juice. Flavors stood out more. Texture mattered more. The sensation of food disappearing into your body is pretty amazing. Food in the dark becomes its own experience, and I was satisfied with about half of what I usually eat.
Pee and poo went into a bucket and out through the light lock. I peed a lot. We also discovered that we didn’t naturally want to drink water, so that has to be intentional. At least 3 liters a day, probably more.
The hours didn’t exactly fly, but they didn’t drag either. Somewhere in there, I realized I was going to make it to 60 hours. That brought a quiet kind of euphoria. It could have easily gone the other way—I could have been bored out of my mind, or quit, or even become afraid—but it didn’t happen. I was in familiar surroundings.
It felt like alignment. Thoughts came and went. At times I was completely absorbed and even forgot I was in darkness. At other times, there was just stillness. No distraction. Just mind. A couple of times I played my shamanic drum, medicine style, and some chimes. 432 Hz was interesting, but I didn’t do this for more than about 20 minutes.
I had one vivid dream. I was interacting with a friend. Suddenly it occurred to me that I should be in my dark room—on retreat—not with my friend. It felt like a moment out of Inception. Then something shifted—the “kick”—and I was surrounded by bubbles that carried me back. Back into the dark.
I did bump my head three times on the staircase, hard enough to leave marks. My sense of direction was the one thing that became unreliable. It would drift left or right. I would reach for something and miss it completely. Even running my hand along the wall, I could feel how far off I was—sometimes by more than 45 degrees.
By the second day, I could feel the arc completing. I was past the halfway point. I was going to finish. Just one more sleep. Eventually, first light arrived. Light leaked in around the door and the light lock that Josie had opened for me in the middle of the night. It didn’t feel harsh. My eyes had adjusted. I went outside. The sky was turning pink. I didn’t even need sunglasses.
Afterwards
I would absolutely do this again. I’ve heard that 10-day silent Vipassana meditation retreats can be difficult—probably because of the sustained effort and discipline involved. This was different. This was not difficult. This felt like a vacation into the self.
About Andrew Durham
This experience would not have happened without Andrew Durham. His work made this feel simple and accessible. No mysticism layered on top. No unnecessary complexity. Just a clear idea: create the conditions, and enter the darkness.
That stayed with me.
He also outlines a path beyond shorter retreats—what he calls the 9-day retreat, a progression that includes both darkness and the gradual reintroduction of light. I’ve even exchanged a few emails with him. He’s generous with his knowledge, grounded, practical, and willing to help people find their way into this experience.
You can find his work here:
https://www.hygienicdarkretreat.comI highly recommend exploring it if you feel called to try this yourself.
#AlternativeLiving #andrewDurham #consciousness #darkRetreat #desertLiving #EcoSpirituality #innerExploration #meditation #minimalism #offGrid #sensoryDeprivation #spirituality -
60 Hours in the Dark
I just completed a 60-hour dark room retreat in my tiny home, in the desert. Total darkness. Not a pinhole of light. The room was sealed with blackout material. Air came through a 4-inch pipe attached to a fan. Food came through a “light-lock” hatch created with blankets (airlock-style). No screens. No timekeeping. No visual reference at all.
I had been wanting to do this for years, and it really only happened after inspiration from Andrew Durham and his book on hygienic dark retreats. His work made this feel simple and possible. I had also known about Sky Cave Retreats for a while, but didn’t want to spend all that money on, quite literally, “nothing.” Sky Cave shows up in articles every so often. It’s quite popular—one of the only places in the United States—and their waitlist is about three years out.
Boulder Gardens is a sanctuary in its own right, so it was the perfect place for something like this. Remote, wild, and quiet. After covering all the windows with plastic and fabric, Josie—my partner—went in first. She made 60 hours look easy. I fed her all kinds of things, but really her job was to sleep. She came out into the blazing sun three days later wearing sunglasses. She said it was great.
The interior of my tiny homeBy 7:25 pm I was inside. The door closed. The world disappeared. Just the white noise from the fan, constantly on. It wasn’t just dark. It was velvety black.
I slept, or drifted, or something in between. Time loosened its grip almost immediately. But in another way, it wasn’t that different from a normal night. I woke a few times, but there was no urgency. I just lay there as long as I could. Normally when I wake up, I start thinking, planning, measuring. I usually can’t wait to get out of bed and begin the day. None of that happened here. I just fell back into sleep.
The first stretch felt long, but not difficult. I noticed small things—light leaks around the door, a faint glow near the food hatch. I blocked them with clothes and a poncho until the room was nearly perfect. Even then, there were moments of light. The radio had the faintest glow, even through three layers of duct tape. Rubbing blankets together created little flashes, but in total darkness they became bright sparkles. In total darkness, even the smallest thing becomes big.
Communication was through handheld radios. I had a high-powered transceiver that could be heard a mile away. I kept it off unless I needed something and placed it near my bed so I wouldn’t lose it. Josie had the other one and kept it on day and night, monitoring me. I recommend radios. People ask if I did this in silence, or if I fasted. No. That would be too much. We communicated briefly but regularly. This was about healing through sleep and darkness—not silence, and not fasting. Knowing someone is there really matters. A couple of times Josie was out of range and couldn’t respond immediately. That part was disorienting, but only for a few minutes. Most of the time, it worked well.
light lock with vent tube going inlight lock opened upFans supplying airFood became an event. Rice, stir fry, soup, tea, smoothies, mint tea, coffee, watermelon juice. Flavors stood out more. Texture mattered more. The sensation of food disappearing into your body is pretty amazing. Food in the dark becomes its own experience, and I was satisfied with about half of what I usually eat.
Pee and poo went into a bucket and out through the light lock. I peed a lot. We also discovered that we didn’t naturally want to drink water, so that has to be intentional. At least 3 liters a day, probably more.
The hours didn’t exactly fly, but they didn’t drag either. Somewhere in there, I realized I was going to make it to 60 hours. That brought a quiet kind of euphoria. It could have easily gone the other way—I could have been bored out of my mind, or quit, or even become afraid—but it didn’t happen. I was in familiar surroundings.
It felt like alignment. Thoughts came and went. At times I was completely absorbed and even forgot I was in darkness. At other times, there was just stillness. No distraction. Just mind.
A couple of times I played my shamanic drum, medicine style, and some chimes. 432 Hz was interesting, but I didn’t do this for more than about 20 minutes.
I had one vivid dream. I was interacting with a friend. Suddenly it occurred to me that I should be in my dark room—on retreat—not with my friend. It felt like a moment out of Inception. Then something shifted—the “kick”—and I was surrounded by bubbles that carried me back. Back into the dark.
I did bump my head three times on the staircase, hard enough to leave marks. My sense of direction was the one thing that became unreliable. It would drift left or right. I would reach for something and miss it completely. Even running my hand along the wall, I could feel how far off I was—sometimes by more than 45 degrees.
By the second day, I could feel the arc completing. I was past the halfway point. I was going to finish. Just one more sleep.
Eventually, first light arrived. Light leaked in around the door and the light lock that Josie had opened for me in the middle of the night. It didn’t feel harsh. My eyes had adjusted. I went outside. The sky was turning pink. I didn’t even need sunglasses.
Afterwards
I would absolutely do this again. I’ve heard that 10-day silent Vipassana meditation retreats can be difficult—probably because of the sustained effort and discipline involved. This was different. This was not difficult. This felt like a vacation into the self.
About Andrew Durham
This experience would not have happened without Andrew Durham.
His work made this feel simple and accessible. No mysticism layered on top. No unnecessary complexity. Just a clear idea: create the conditions, and enter the darkness.
That stayed with me.
He also outlines a path beyond shorter retreats—what he calls the 9-day retreat, a progression that includes both darkness and the gradual reintroduction of light.
I’ve even exchanged a few emails with him. He’s generous with his knowledge, grounded, practical, and willing to help people find their way into this experience.
You can find his work here:
https://darkretreats.com/I highly recommend exploring it if you feel called to try this yourself.
If this sparks your curiosity, feel free to reach out.
#AlternativeLiving #andrewDurham #consciousness #darkRetreat #desertLiving #EcoSpirituality #innerExploration #meditation #minimalism #offGrid #sensoryDeprivation #spirituality -
60 Hours in the Dark
I just completed a 60-hour dark room retreat in my tiny home, in the desert. Total darkness. Not a pinhole of light. The room was sealed with blackout material. Air came through a 4-inch pipe attached to a fan. Food came through a “light-lock” hatch created with blankets (airlock-style). No screens. No timekeeping. No visual reference at all.
I had been wanting to do this for years, and it really only happened after inspiration from Andrew Durham and his book on hygienic dark retreats. His work made this feel simple and possible. I had also known about Sky Cave Retreats for a while, but didn’t want to spend all that money on, quite literally, “nothing.” Sky Cave shows up in articles every so often. It’s quite popular—one of the only places in the United States—and their waitlist is about three years out.
Boulder Gardens is a sanctuary in its own right, so it was the perfect place for something like this. Remote, wild, and quiet. After covering all the windows with plastic and fabric, Josie—my partner—went in first. She made 60 hours look easy. I fed her all kinds of things, but really her job was to sleep. She came out into the blazing sun three days later wearing sunglasses. She said it was great.
The interior of my tiny homeBy 7:25 pm I was inside. The door closed. The world disappeared. Just the white noise from the fan, constantly on. It wasn’t just dark. It was velvety black.
I slept, or drifted, or something in between. Time loosened its grip almost immediately. But in another way, it wasn’t that different from a normal night. I woke a few times, but there was no urgency. I just lay there as long as I could. Normally when I wake up, I start thinking, planning, measuring. I usually can’t wait to get out of bed and begin the day. None of that happened here. I just fell back into sleep.
The first stretch felt long, but not difficult. I noticed small things—light leaks around the door, a faint glow near the food hatch. I blocked them with clothes and a poncho until the room was nearly perfect. Even then, there were moments of light. The radio had the faintest glow, even through three layers of duct tape. Rubbing blankets together created little flashes, but in total darkness they became bright sparkles. In total darkness, even the smallest thing becomes big.
Communication was through handheld radios. I had a high-powered transceiver that could be heard a mile away. I kept it off unless I needed something and placed it near my bed so I wouldn’t lose it. Josie had the other one and kept it on day and night, monitoring me. I recommend radios. People ask if I did this in silence, or if I fasted. No. That would be too much. We communicated briefly but regularly. This was about healing through sleep and darkness—not silence, and not fasting. Knowing someone is there really matters. A couple of times Josie was out of range and couldn’t respond immediately. That part was disorienting, but only for a few minutes. Most of the time, it worked well.
light lock with vent tube going inlight lock opened upFans supplying airFood became an event. Rice, stir fry, soup, tea, smoothies, mint tea, coffee, watermelon juice. Flavors stood out more. Texture mattered more. The sensation of food disappearing into your body is pretty amazing. Food in the dark becomes its own experience, and I was satisfied with about half of what I usually eat.
Pee and poo went into a bucket and out through the light lock. I peed a lot. We also discovered that we didn’t naturally want to drink water, so that has to be intentional. At least 3 liters a day, probably more.
The hours didn’t exactly fly, but they didn’t drag either. Somewhere in there, I realized I was going to make it to 60 hours. That brought a quiet kind of euphoria. It could have easily gone the other way—I could have been bored out of my mind, or quit, or even become afraid—but it didn’t happen. I was in familiar surroundings.
It felt like alignment. Thoughts came and went. At times I was completely absorbed and even forgot I was in darkness. At other times, there was just stillness. No distraction. Just mind.
A couple of times I played my shamanic drum, medicine style, and some chimes. 432 Hz was interesting, but I didn’t do this for more than about 20 minutes.
I had one vivid dream. I was interacting with a friend. Suddenly it occurred to me that I should be in my dark room—on retreat—not with my friend. It felt like a moment out of Inception. Then something shifted—the “kick”—and I was surrounded by bubbles that carried me back. Back into the dark.
I did bump my head three times on the staircase, hard enough to leave marks. My sense of direction was the one thing that became unreliable. It would drift left or right. I would reach for something and miss it completely. Even running my hand along the wall, I could feel how far off I was—sometimes by more than 45 degrees.
By the second day, I could feel the arc completing. I was past the halfway point. I was going to finish. Just one more sleep.
Eventually, first light arrived. Light leaked in around the door and the light lock that Josie had opened for me in the middle of the night. It didn’t feel harsh. My eyes had adjusted. I went outside. The sky was turning pink. I didn’t even need sunglasses.
Afterwards
I would absolutely do this again. I’ve heard that 10-day silent Vipassana meditation retreats can be difficult—probably because of the sustained effort and discipline involved. This was different. This was not difficult. This felt like a vacation into the self.
About Andrew Durham
This experience would not have happened without Andrew Durham.
His work made this feel simple and accessible. No mysticism layered on top. No unnecessary complexity. Just a clear idea: create the conditions, and enter the darkness.
That stayed with me.
He also outlines a path beyond shorter retreats—what he calls the 9-day retreat, a progression that includes both darkness and the gradual reintroduction of light.
I’ve even exchanged a few emails with him. He’s generous with his knowledge, grounded, practical, and willing to help people find their way into this experience.
You can find his work here:
https://darkretreats.com/I highly recommend exploring it if you feel called to try this yourself.
If this sparks your curiosity, feel free to reach out.
#AlternativeLiving #andrewDurham #consciousness #darkRetreat #desertLiving #EcoSpirituality #innerExploration #meditation #minimalism #offGrid #sensoryDeprivation #spirituality -
My latest article where I talk about Path 4.Human
#Zajey #ZajeyCi#Capitalism #MentalHealthCrisis #SustainableLiving
#CorporateLife #OffGridLife #SelfSufficiency
#EconomicInequality #EducationSystem #AlternativeLiving #CommunityLiving -
What a Washing Machine Revealed About Community
The gate entrance at Boulder Gardens SanctuaryAbout six weeks after I moved off the land project in Arizona, I got a text message telling us the community washer we used was broken and that we owed money for repairs. Not a conversation. Not a check-in. A bill. Here’s what it said (redacted):
“The washer you used is broken. It will be repaired and per our agreement you pay if you break it. We’ll let you know the cost.”
What struck me first was the tone. It framed the situation as a transaction, not a relationship.
A bill, not a conversation. And for the record, there was no such “agreement.”Our last community in Ojai went through seven washers in seven years, so nothing about a machine breaking surprised me. What did surprise me was being held responsible for a community-donated washer six weeks after we’d already left. (Also—how does one even “break” a washing machine? You push the Start button and… broken?)
But it was never about the money.
It wasn’t even about the washing machine.
It was the shift—from trust to accusation, from community to contract, from relational living to transactional living. And transactional living is the quiet death of any community.Welcome vs. Keep Out
I’ve lived in places where “Welcome” is more than a word—it’s an ethic.
Boulder Gardens is one of them.Most private properties in this part of the desert are covered in No Trespassing, Private Property, and Keep Out signs (often justified as “liability”). But Boulder Gardens is different. Just today a friendly bicyclist rolled up and said:
“Yours is the only private land anywhere around here with positive signage. Everywhere else it’s warnings.”
He’s right. As you enter Boulder Gardens you see:
Garths sign in and telephone welcome
“Welcome to Boulder Gardens.”
Soft colors. Friendly lettering.
No gates. No threats. No barbed wire.
Just welcome.Where people talk about trust but behave like” land-lords”, you begin to realize some places use the word “community” to describe what is essentially a work camp wrapped in spiritual vocabulary
and these are the neighborsA Sanctuary Built on Service, Not Ownership
Garth’s Boulder Gardens is a square mile of desert that slowly became a sanctuary because people showed up with generosity instead of rules. Garth didn’t believe in rent.
There are stories from the early days when he offered food, shelter, a place to wander, and a stocked communal fridge—and what he asked in return was presence, kindness, and maybe a little help around the fire pit.
And here’s a story that says more about leadership than any spiritual discourse ever could:
Once a week Garth would make his rounds across the property, stopping at every cabin, trailer, and tent. He collected everyone’s dirty laundry—ten people scattered across a square mile of desert—and hauled it all to the laundromat in town. He paid for every load himself with a pile of quarters, waited through the cycles, dried it, and returned it to each doorstep. Pickup and delivery. No charge, no fanfare. His generosity didn’t stop at the property line.
I once watched him in a supermarket when a stranger approached and said, “Garth, do you remember me? I need a little help for food.” Garth didn’t try to recall his face or make him prove anything. He simply reached into his pocket, pulled out the first bill his fingers touched—maybe $1, maybe $20, maybe $100—and handed it over without looking. Whatever it was, it was enough. Garth died with $202 in his bank account.
That is what leadership looks like in a real sanctuary:
service, not power;
humility, not hierarchy;
open hands instead of clenched fists.Meanwhile, Back in Arizona…
Our deeper purpose on that Arizona land had been to help create a desert Sanctuary but quickly the current shifted, and we began to feel more like unpaid helpers or free labor. Our presence was needed, but our purpose wasn’t seen. When the washer message came, it didn’t begin anything—it confirmed everything.
I responded gently and clearly with a two-page letter. I explained the washer had been donated, that we’d repaired it several times already, and that we’d been gone for over a month with no communication. I said we wouldn’t be paying for repairs now that we were no longer living there.
When Worlds Collide
Community only works when everyone involved is living by the same principles.
If one person believes “shared” means collective stewardship and another believes “shared” means “use my stuff but pay me if anything goes wrong,” then you already have two different worlds trying to occupy the same land.Eventually the truth comes out—in a washing machine, a torn-up garden bed, a disagreement about labor, or the quiet realization that you’re trying to build a sanctuary while someone else is building a fiefdom. Sometimes the whole truth arrives in a short message about a broken machine.
Communities reveal themselves in the signs they put out—
whether those signs hang on a fence
or arrive as a text message.intentionalcommunity #gifteconomy #relationalnottransactional #bouldergardens #sanctuary #alternativeLiving #simpleliving #communityliving #degrowth #antiwork
https://redecker.vivaldi.net/2025/12/02/welcome-signs-and-warning-signs/
#Sanctuary #AlternativeLiving #antiwork #bouldergardens #CommunityLiving #degrowth #gifteconomy #IntentionalCommunity #relationalnottransactional #SimpleLiving
-
White people media in the past century:
Mother Earth News, Vol. 1, No. 1, January 1970.
For good measure, this edition also included a blueprint for building your very own Plains Indians tipi.
#media #history #motherEarth #romanticism #alternativeLiving
-
White people media in the past century:
Mother Earth News, Vol. 1, No. 1, January 1970.
For good measure, this edition also included a blueprint for building your very own Plains Indians tipi.
#media #history #motherEarth #romanticism #alternativeLiving
-
White people media in the past century:
Mother Earth News, Vol. 1, No. 1, January 1970.
For good measure, this edition also included a blueprint for building your very own Plains Indians tipi.
#media #history #motherEarth #romanticism #alternativeLiving
-
White people media in the past century:
Mother Earth News, Vol. 1, No. 1, January 1970.
For good measure, this edition also included a blueprint for building your very own Plains Indians tipi.
#media #history #motherEarth #romanticism #alternativeLiving
-
🌿Amazing new channel I found similar to Project Kamp ✨
• Off grid, organic homestead in Sardinia, Italy 📍
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCLRCdEfezDNxDBPGUMf3kOA
#projectkamp #alternativeliving #offgrid #homestead
#ecovillage #intentionalcommunity #italy #sardinia
#selfsufficiency #selfreliance #anarchism -
🌿Amazing new channel I found similar to Project Kamp ✨
• Off grid, organic homestead in Sardinia, Italy 📍
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCLRCdEfezDNxDBPGUMf3kOA
#projectkamp #alternativeliving #offgrid #homestead
#ecovillage #intentionalcommunity #italy #sardinia
#selfsufficiency #selfreliance #anarchism -
Discover Bangkok's unseen communities in the second article of " The Bangkok Series".
#Bangkok, #CulturalCommunities, #ArtSpacesBangkok, #UrbanResilience, #InnovativeLiving, #GrassrootsBangkok, #AlternativeLiving, #CreativeBangkok, #BangkokCommunityLife, #BangkokArtHubs, #SustainableUrbanLiving, #CommunityInnovation, #HiddenBangkok, ,#CulturalDiversityBangkok:
