When I started talking about The Idyll, I thought it was for me. I thought it was the dream forever home for me. I had an inkling it wasn’t but it wasn’t until people commented on our rescuing of dogs and prairie dogs that it sort of got more purpose. But still there I was in the thick of it.
Then it hit me over the weekend. The Idyll isn’t about me or for me. Not at all. Ok, so it is in the sense that it has all of my grand plan and love of learning all over it. But, instead it is a place–still either real or not so real–for people who need to find a way, escape from where they are and bloom, to have the time and space to be themselves and to heal.
It has become a sort of college that isn’t a college. A place to learn a trade or find one within. Or just the hobby someone needs to keep them from losing their thread here on earth. Sure, the writers will still have their places to have a place to finish their books. But instead of being a sort of BlogHer village, it will be a protected college of real life. A place to think or not think. A place free of the apocalypse outside the gates. The Idyll will welcome the abused, the rejected, the rescues and the strays. The Kinderhaus school will teach their young to love to learn again. It will call the people and nurture them and let them go when they are ready. Or provide them a permanent home and they can mentor others.
I will talk more of the infrastructure…but for now…know that there is more to the it than just a playground for my dreams.