May 14: Ode To My Hammock

I have always been a hammock devotee. There was one in the back yard when I was married. When I moved in with Monica, I was able to have a rope hammock chair hanging between the front windows in the bedroom. I bought another one like it for the porch at the skoolie homestead in Georgia where I was spending a lot of time. I also got one hung in Karma.

Down the road, I met Rain Lovekin, who slept in a hammock in her small skoolie. I knew I wanted one. Last summer, she helped me find one on Marketplace for the short bus I was looking to buy and have built. I have been sleeping in it all but about seven of the fifty-five days I've lived on Karmalita.

I find the hammock hugs me, conforming to my body. I am suspended in mid-air, weightless. There are no pressure points as the hammock conforms to my body rather than my body having to conform to a particular surface. Sleeping in a hammock is calming. Whether I'm on my side or my back, I drift off to sleep faster. It's a deeper sleep and I tend to wake up one less time a night. I've never woken up with a backache as sometimes happened in a bed.

It can't swing much without rubbing against the couch or hitting the counter, but there's enough rocking movement to be soothing.

Getting out of it can sometimes be a challenge, and I find myself grabbing for the counter. It's not difficult, just different. And it's worth the effort because hammocks make me happy. I use it during the day – reclining, sitting, and sometimes to prop up the laptop while I sit on the couch.

People consider it unusual, even odd, but only in this culture. There are probably a hundred million people who have hammocks as their beds – in Central and South America, Asia, the Philippines ... The Mayans used hammocks a thousand years ago. My dad was on submarines in the Navy; his bed was a hammock in the torpedo room.

The best part, though, is that it's a spiritual experience. When casting a circle in which to do magic, I create a place out of time and out of space, between the worlds. That's where the hammock takes me.