Keep the dream alive
In another life, i lived in San Francisco, i worked for an oil company in the financial district, i lived one block from the corner of Haight and Ashbury and i had a morning ritual.
My alarm clock would go off at 7 AM, i would throw on some clothes, grab a quick breakfast, hop on the excellent mass transit (the number 6 Parnassus bus if you must know) and arrive at my 24th floor office at 7 AM. This particular magic was done by setting my home alarm clock half an hour fast and having a highly abbreviated morning routine.
Truth told, i loved working for the oil company (it was Sohio, which was basically a subsidiary of British Petroleum). i had a brilliant boss, who treated me well, let me do fun things, gave me three promotions and four raises in 2 years. i got to travel a bunch, play with super computers, run exotic projects and hire some curious people. And i did not have the political consciousness i have today, which would make such work completely unthinkable.
Here on the commune, i dont have an alarm clock (except on Thursdays, i use my phone to get me up early for tofu). It represents one of the subtle, but quite important changes in quality of life that exist here. If you sleep until you naturally wake up, or until Willow flops has hand in your face, or Sara spoons me early in the day, it is a completely different experience than being roused by a time piece telling you your day has started.
Central to this difference is the ability to roll over and go back to sleep if you think you need more rest. You feel unhurried about your day. That there is no boss (no matter how good they might be) waiting for you to show up and tell you what you are are supposed to do today or ask you how you are doing on that report or project.
The joke is that the commune is not paradise, but on a good day you can see it from here. And almost every morning, when my groggy eyes dont see an alarm clock ringing, it looks pretty good.