I planned a work crew for today. I planned it as a gathering of women during a time of uncertainty. Uncertainty due to Covid. Uncertainty due to new roles & expectations.
I have never been sole producer of a festival. I have co-produced with a fierce & extremely competent womyn. She was blessed with mad skills in electrical, carpentry, mechanical, plumbing, and just general fix it skills. And now, I am left with the blessed responsibility of rallying the tribe and recruiting 6-18 people to do the things that were within her scope.
I showed up at the farm today. I started to unload tools & supplies. Whoa. Back up. I was solely responsible to plan the work & to plan for the tools & supplies we will need. Shit. Okay. I packed two of my small tool bags. I packed an air compressor, drills, circular saw, and sawzall. I didn’t bring a charger. But I really didn’t think we would need the drills. I just thought I should be prepared, even though I wasn’t quite sure what I was preparing for since this part was mostly all new.
But it wasn’t all new. I had been training with M for years for this. In years past, I asked questions. I asked about supplies, tools. I asked how to use them and I asked why we used those particular ones. I asked lots of questions. I was blessed with really thorough answers.
Today, after unloading tools & supplies, I walked through the spaces. I surveyed PC, trying to figure out the best “plan of attack” for what I was trying to accomplish. What was I trying to accomplish? I thought I went there with the idea of moving soft or cloth items out of PC and over to She-Shed. I walked over and surveyed She-Shed.
I broke down crying. My thoughts were slightly panicked and I just kept thinking, what the hell am I doing? how the hell am I going to do this by myself? Why the hell am I even trying? I don’t know enough. I don’t have enough. I am not enough.
Then I came up with a plan. I remembered that I SHOULDN’T be doing this alone. I remembered that this is a community project. This is a tribe job. This is something that should be built by the community. This somehow got lost and sidetracked when we got into a stress & clutter of rage, anger, frustration, and broken expectations & disappointments. We forgot. I forgot that we should never be the ones that are doing the majority of the work. We forgot because there weren’t volunteers. I forgot because I was tired and I had expectations and ego. I forgot that the community will work for what it wants and if it doesn’t work for it, then it’s not my job to make it happen. I can’t make the commitment. I can’t make the community feel the excitement and the dedication if it doesn’t want it, need it, or desire it. If the community doesn’t support it, then it’s time for me to let it go.
I stopped crying and I got to work. People showed up. We built a shelf. The women showed up and we already had the supplies. And I had grabbed drills and other tools, just in case. I planned for something that I wasn’t sure was going to happen.
And I, no, we were ready for it. I learned more than I give myself credit for and the community will step up, if we give them space to take the steps.
Today, I thought we were coming together to move items from PC to She-Shed. I called it MFR moving day. I realized the real reason for coming together today was to move my attitude of belief & faith. It was a moving day from the vision of how MFR was put together and moving into how MFR is going to come together and how that can and will look.
My mind has moved from a place of not know how I could ever do it without someone, how I could do it on my own, to a place of belief in the power of womyn & community and my own gifts & talents. I am gifted, talented, and skilled in my own way. I have moved to a place of believing that my gifts, talents, and skills are just as valuable and worthy and wonderful. I have moved to a belief that I have the skills to gather the womyn & witches that will electrify and enliven this Framily. #mfrmovingday