Yurt-Building: Intro

A yurt-building class two weeks ago generated a change in me. Offered at the North House Folk School in Grand Marais, Minnesota, the class was four days, 9-5, learning while working. It started on Thursday and ended on Sunday, the day of the big snowstorm in the Twin Cities. Luckily I had planned on staying Sunday night anyway because I knew my old body would not let me drive the long drive after a full day of (hopefully) finishing the yurt.

I have been thinking and fantasizing about A Good Spot for a long time now—years since my dad passed away and the idea of it first crept into my soul.

Progress toward A Good Spot happens in fits and starts or manifests in daydreaming about possibilities. This was a chance to take an actual step toward it.

I signed up for the class because it coincided with my spring break (faculty are officially off-contract during spring break at my institution of higher ed) and I calculated that the costs of the experience — class fee, gas, room, and food — would be worth the mechanical and building-anything skills alone. I got so much more in the bargain.

No tools or instructions were given as prerequisites for the class. Yet something had to be done to prepare for the four-day, 9-5 class, because, as part of my job, I sit and stare into computer screens too much, and even if I generally try to utilize the standing feature of my desk, staring into a “TV Wall” is enervating and not conducive to strengthening muscles, so I weight-lifted more leading up to the class. It wouldn’t add up to much, but at least it was someplace my anticipatory energy could go.

My last words as I left for Grand Marais were, “This is will be a lesson in my physical limitations.” Yes, that was one lesson, not as harsh as I expected (thanks to nightly Epsom-salt baths), but other lessons outweighed it. Unanticipated was the shift in being I experienced. Not being dramatic here: the physical, emotional, intellectual demands as well as the straightforward yurt-building skills that were cultivated during these four special days added up to a shift in my fundamental thinking, and if that’s not a shift in being, I don’t know what is.

So in the next few weeks, I am going to write about the four days, one at a time. In the meantime, here’s a photo that I posted at the end of Day One. Each day produced a new thing of beauty.

Please, consider pledging to this substack, A Good Spot, as it would be greatly encouraging and well, simply, AWESOME. Click here to learn more about A Good Spot and its long-term goals.