By Chantelle Pence.
“Define wild…” Carmin’s eyes twinkled when she asked me to go deeper into my inquiry about bison in the area. She sat near the door of her bookstore, and teased me into thinking.
I chuckled inwardly as I remembered that the animals don’t stray from their wild nature too easily. Man may have domesticated their own lives and homes, but bison live according to ancient codes, no matter the definitions we place on them. Ranches, refuges, and fence railings have no bearing on those who are tuned in to their natural instincts.
Growing up on a farm in the Midwest, and then spending two decades in an intentional community in Texas, Carmin leans towards her own instincts. “I want to decide for myself how I’m doing things…” she said. The sun streamed through the windows of her passive solar home where she lives and operates her bookstore, while she shared her story. She considers herself a newcomer to Crestone, though she has lived in the town for over 20 years. We talked about the culture of the place, and the recent changes. “Aren’t things always changing?” she asked. She said she tries to remain open to change, and be nonjudgmental, but admits there are some changes she is not fond of.
Carmin shared her perspective on fairly recent developments that she deemed positive. The museum was once an idea that a handful of residents worked on, which is now fully realized. Also, the fellowship hall that was built by the Little Shepherd Church has proven to be an asset to the community. “People from all different backgrounds and beliefs can gather together there,” she said. Carmin does not subscribe to any particular religion, but she likes to visit the various spiritual centers in the area, to see the architecture and building design. She appreciates the fact that she has never felt pressured to join any of the groups. We agreed that if there is one common cultural element in Crestone, it is the attitude of live and let live.
Herd animals who don’t know they have been domesticated may be able to hold a neutral position when their territory is encroached upon. But that’s not likely to happen in a community of creative and diverse homo sapiens. Like most residents who have called Crestone home for decades, Carmin has strong feelings about maintaining the integrity of the place. She hopes people who come here to build homes will do so in a way that’s in alignment with nature. “You can heat your house practically for free if it’s designed correctly (with passive solar).” Carmin also suggested that newcomers shouldn’t try to change the place too much. “Don’t try to make it like the place you left,” she said.
Carmin mentioned that the live music scene is an issue in which there is not a common agreement. Some town folks are disturbed by it, while others think it’s no big deal. I could see the different perspectives, depending on the positions of each. People who use a place (downtown) recreationally have a different lived experience from those who occupy the space perpetually.
Another example of conflicting interests in tight spaces is the roadways. I thought of some bicyclists that I, and other vehicles, piled up behind while driving down Camino Baca Grande recently. As I slowed down to 13 mph, I considered the rules I abided by as a child. My mother’s law was to ride facing traffic so you can see what’s coming and get out of the way. Modern law says cyclists have the same rights to the roadway as automobiles.
Carmin and I discussed laws and definitions. We talked about Colorado’s rainwater collection laws. They don’t make sense to her self-sufficient and natural ideals. She said she subscribes to the idea of doing the right thing, which is not always the same as doing what’s legal. Who’s to say what’s right? And how can a community of people live together with intentionality? Maybe it boils down to neighbors getting to know their neighbors better.
“It was easier to know each other when there were fewer of us,” Carmin said. Though she is free thinking, and likes to be independent, she knows the value of community. It made me wonder about Crestone, and if valuable aspects of the community culture could be defined and magnified. I thought about the old culture of Maui, Hawaii (may she regenerate in peace) and how certain standards, such as driving slowly, were made known to those of us visiting. There was a distinct local tone that was palpable. A certain amount of active resistance is necessary for cultural survival, and when it’s done in a spirit of love, like Aloha, it’s catching. Unique cultures are worth protecting.
Carmin’s bookstore is unique. Though it is housed in the walls of her private residence, on land that is not commercially zoned, she was granted permission by the Town to operate her business there and a space was created that enhances the community. The handmade Bookstore sign, posted at the corner of Golden Ave and Alder St, brings visitors and locals to her doorstep. With a large and well categorized collection of books, the store has something for everyone, and there is a good chance you can find a specific book or author if you ask for it. Another benefit is that the bookstore, which is nearly always open, offers information to tourists. “It’s sort of like a visitor center,” she said. Her favorite part of running the bookstore is that it enables her to meet and visit with people.
Carmin is open to local writing groups using her space, or authors wanting to do a book signing. “As long as it doesn’t make extra work for me!” she said. I appreciated her candor. Carmin recently celebrated her 83rd birthday by having a half-off sale at her store. I asked her if she considers herself to be an Elder. She paused for a moment and said, “Define elder.” I told her that my definition of an Elder (with a capital E) is someone who offers their gifts to the community.
Old age happens automatically, but only some become true Elders. It takes intention and openheartedness. What I know for sure is that Carmin encourages critical thinking, her eyes become lively when engaged in curiosity, and she offers something valuable to the community. Sounds like an Elder to me.