September - Sharing Visions - Marcia "Sugar Moon" McReynolds

posted Mar 1, 2012, 12:35 PM by Rob Pollock
Urban Abundance:

What does abundance mean to you?

What does an urban landscape filled with abundance look like?


Marcia "Sugar Moon" McReynolds says:


My Vision of an Abundant Community: Full to the Meniscus


You fill a spoon with a thick golden liquid (call the liquid life), just to the point where the liquid lifts up, arching like a half moon above the spoon, poised in perfect equanimity. Full to the meniscus. It does not spill over, making a mess down your shirt, or the floor. None is wasted. You are grateful for having just enough and not a drop more.


This is abundance.


Abundance is the thing and the thanks all in one.

Abundance is gentle, deep, even breathing in. And out. And awareness of the spaces in between.

Abundance is the wow out of the first bite of an Envy apple before you pass it on to your friend to taste.

Abundance is watching a tree sway in the breeze just long enough to appreciate its graceful dance and power that moves it.

Abundance is that state of being pleasantly tipsy, but not drunk, reaching that moment when we feel “almost perfect” in our rosy view of the world, and stopping there.

Abundance is a delicate point of elegant, exhilarating balance.

The practice of abundance is an intention to be at peace with what comes, with what one has, with having enough, and sharing ones gifts and rewards with others.


A perfectly abundant community has just enough for everyone--enough food, time, passion, art, satisfaction, importance, involvement, place, meaning, work, reward, love--and not more than enough for any one or two.

An abundant-enough community comes about in time through the gradual process of more and more of its people practicing the way of abundance. An abundant community begins in the consciousness and daily intention of a few, and spreads organically, without much announcement, from moment to moment, person to person, exchange to exchange, personal decision to collective decision, to that day when, suddenly, we realize that things are coming together that, heck, Vancouver's not such a bad place to live after all, we might not have to move to Portland or elsewhere, that what we want is here and now, that we can just plant our tree, our ideas, our bones, our dreams here, and stay.

And what does our abundant Vancouver look like? Let's paint a picture:

Fat fruit trees arch over the streets. The air is empty of engine noise, since most vehicles are electric, or pedaled. People sit out on front porches, greeting those walking by, even in the drizzle. On wintry nights, candlelit dining room tables laden with local food are surrounded by folks of all ages and colors, laughing, and even those of different political persuasion slap each other on the back in friendly disagreement. People wearing happy old clothes (mended creatively) and old shoes with new soles walk down the road, thin and healthy like back in the 40's. Fences are down between backyards, creating a mews of old where the children run free within safe boundaries, everyone a friend or parent. Senior housing has turned into People housing where elders and youngers help each other out. The homeless have been given homes in our extra rooms and basements. The neighborhood or church gives them work to do that helps them belong again. People work part time for enough money, with time to follow a passion. On our way home from work every day, we stop by shops owned by locals for a chat and evening's supper. We have small refrigerators. Small houses. The big houses, the McMansions, are subdivided into smaller duplexes and triplexes with a common spaces for gathering and shared meals. Neighbors eat together once a week or month at rotating houses. An inventory of tools and loan list is posted to a central garage wall in each neighborhood. Coffee shops have back rooms for listening salons, where everyone has a place to get heard once a week. We have organized a rehab center for computer addicts of all ages, where we come learn to play again, to listen, to tell long convoluted stories and jokes, write, make and repair stuff, laugh again, a lot. Parks are full of people, colorful balls and Frisbees flying, kids running around, grandmas smiling. Main Street and the mall are big plazas with the cars parked outside and the people are in the middle. Clark College is cheap or free with classes that teach us how to live in an abundant, fragile world.


At the end of the day, we do a neighborly trundle down to the nearest western ridge to watch the liquid sun slip beyond our little place on the earth, the pinkorangeblue sky reflected in all the streets and river below. Then we walk home slowly, singing perhaps, and get into our warm beds, our soft animal bodies burrowing in early, so we are rested for the sweet round fullness of the next morning.


Marcia "Sugar Moon" McReynolds

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