Delicious… Our arrival to Full Bloom

New Community Resident’s Journal—Week 1                                                                   by Elena Zubulake

It’s hard to believe we’ve only been here less than a week… a week tomorrow to be exact. So much has happened, from our late-night-exhausted-after-21-hours-of-driving-with-two-kitties arrival, to today— my first day on a computer since arriving on the first day of Aquarius in our new mountain community home.

To put it quite honestly, “arriving” at Full Bloom Community, has been pretty much everything I could have wanted it to be and more, and the ancient part of my being so stomach-churning-hungry for village is already feeling deeply fed by being here only 6 short winter days.

I do realize in saying that the risk of “speaking too soon” or the natural tendency of NRE–new relationship energy–to predominate the field at the beginning of any new intimacy or love based relationship, be it a partner, a new job, or in this case, a new village. But I will take the risk, knowing that mountains crumble and ice melts, and even go out on a limb to say, “yes, indeed, I am falling in love”. After all, we are here to at least give falling in love with a village of human and non-human companions a good ol’ try-on-for-size.

“Being Fed” could be the most beautifully fitting metaphor for our time here thus far. Sitting here now, eating Victor’s left over birthday cake, inspired by the orange cake his grandmother used to make him when he was a kid. A cake created by my own hands and the enthusiastic hands of two tow headed girls and a boy in a kitchen full of the busy-ness of midday, a lunch of greens from the green house, bread from the bakery, an egg salad with lovage from the garden and eggs from the chickens out in the pasture. People winding in and out from brush burning up the hillside. All whilst, trying to keep the “secret” of the cake making from Victor’s sight.

I have been fed abundantly every day since arriving by food created in a kitchen full of story— the story of a community coming together, the daily comings and goings, the meetings and the partings, the baking of many loaves of bread, the kids getting taller, a place where visions have been made, where arguments have brewed, and ultimately where an older-kind-of-family-every-day-loving has found a little root from which to sprout. The abundance of a community begins right here.


How do I know all this? Because the food and connection here feel delicious. The succulent lamb from up the road, the perfectly cooked salmon that Jacob caught this summer, the roasted potatoes with a little of this very earth still in their essence, the sweet chard from the green house….

….the perfectly cooked heart share circle that left my belly full and round, the delectable laughter seasoning our first breakfast here after awakening and finding our way to the kitchen, the spicy-ness of the impromptu “fashion show”, the bitterness of an interaction with a visitor followed by the sweetness of a curious inquiry into what happened, and the ongoing crossing of paths that just makes daily life more interesting, diverse, and delightful. And sacred.


You pull together some quality ingredients, just a few, and a delicious stew of possibility is created. I feel that and look forward to more as Victor and I live into our own deliciousness and see how it can add a new flavor to this already well cooked stew.

I just heard Ryan call out from downstairs that they are making lamb meatballs for dinner. Yum!!!

Easter at Full Bloom

My wife Eden loves Easter.  I’ve never been a huge fan.  It conjures up to mind pastel colors, bad candy, and disturbing Easter bunnies trying to ride on the coat tails of Santa but failing miserably.   Coupled with a lot of commercialization and a general lack of “spiritedness”  or reverence for the sacred.   After sweet little Easter egg hunt on Sunday things are shifting around a bit in my world.  First off the egg dying was a great excuse to get together and make some fun art together.  We used these natural dyes that our friend Leah makes (check her out at ) and made all sorts of truly gorgeous eggs. Disentangling all my less than favorable notions of Easter I found myself engaged in a process of turning this blank, yet profoundly shaped object, a chicken egg, into a piece of art.

Easter Morning after we had another epic waffle and whip cream community brunch, Eden and I went into the community garden and started to delicately and somewhat mischievously place these egg shaped art pieces in the shade of rocks, on top of sprinkler heads and in the coil of the garden hose.   Then the kids were unleashed and that was the biggest joy: to see them totally transfixed, carrying their baskets and joyously grabbing eggs from here and there.  In that moment I realized how simple and a profound of a ceremony we had created.  I didn’t think of it as such initially, but that’s truly what it is.  Its a sequence of events, of movements that bring the community of humans in closer contact with the mystery and the beauty of this life.   The realization also hit me that ceremonies can be fun and a chance to bring more art and a magic into our lives.


Our community member Sky with her basket of eggs


Kids from the neighborhood on the hunt in the community garden



Easter is very important to me, it’s a second chance.

The Art of Simplicity

As I sit in meditation in the morning I look out my window which captures a panorama of the heart of the community: the central garden, the community building, the chicken coops, the bathhouse and a cascade of to do’s and anxieties often floods me.  There’s just so much to do and think about!  I close my eyes and come back to just this moment: my breath, the sound of a vehicle, the mild ache in my back and I can rest in the simplicity of what’s just actually happening right here and now.  I’ve come to realizing that I need to rest in that simplicity otherwise I go crazy with the never ending lists of projects that come with being land steward, a husband, a human being. I originally thought that moving out to the country and starting an intentional community would be a simple life, living in harmony with natural cycles and deep in a supportive web of like minded companions.  I can now see that to truly experience simplicity requires a deliberate cultivation of perception    It doesn’t just come about with circumstances (human beings have the magical powers to turn any situation into a circus of craziness).  It requires the deliberate cultivation of perception, the refinement of how I choose to perceive myself, others and the things of the world.  Becoming mindful of the story I am telling myself and choosing to tell a story that is coherent, inspiring and not too complex (e.g. simple). For example:  I could sit here on this beautiful morning on the farm and let my mind go wild painting a chaotic picture of all the things I “should do” or that could go wrong and that go out the door putting out fires and generally running around like a chicken with its head cut off.  Or I could choose to take some time to really get in touch with the elements of my life that are truly most important to me, that I can be pretty sure will make fill my heart with the good stuff (satisfaction, joy, connection, pride) then proceed to craft a day or week that reflects that orientation. My sincere wish for Full Bloom is that it becomes ever more supportive for individuals to stay connected with the peace and inspiration that comes from living as an artist, an intentional story teller. “We tell ourselves stories in order to live.” ― Joan DidionThe White Album