Conception of Garden Village
by Susannah Light
In October of 2011, David and I flew down from Loveland Colorado to hold a meditation vigil during the final week leading up to the completion of the Mayan Calendar. We camped on the land, down near the rivers’ junction, felt her pulse … and listened. We also asked questions. What would she have us do?
Gaia, or Kara, as we know the Earth spirit, was not interested in putting any more energy into bemoaning her losses, the destruction caused by “heavy cities” as she put it, and the tiresome warfare of the humans, which also does ravage her heart and body. Instead, Kara conveyed a keen interest in propelling a new reality into motion. And she asked for our commitment.
“Make it true inside yourself,” Kara told us, “Carry the Seed of the Garden into this New Day of consciousness. Make it live wholly and completely within you. Then, from the resulting vortex of healed masculine and restored feminine, bring forward the sacred technologies awaiting to restore my honor and my beauty. ”
The next piece to the history of Garden Village is best written by David, and if nowhere else, you will find it in his books, a trilogy called The Jaquar Queen series. Book One, Lady Earth, will be published in the summer of 2014.
History of this Land
In 2001, my brother Nathan and I moved to Costa Rica, along with his wife and two-month-old son, with the ambition to purchase land and begin a tropical homestead where other family members would join in as the time was right. We had previously visited Costa Rica and were pleased with the culture’s emphasis on self-reliance, closeness with nature, and value of family. We noted the absence of class segregation and smiled at the healthy intergenerational blending, for instance seeing a young boy on a bicycle with his little sister on the handle bars and his grandfather on the seat behind him.
As siblings then, seven out of the twelve that make up our family, we purchased 100 beautiful acres of land, a farm that had been clear cut and commercially planted with macadamia nut trees. The property had been abandoned for years and much as we would have loved to, we could not restore the ailing and falling macadamia trees. Instead we bestowed upon the land our seven-generation-deep reservoir of care-filled expertise in dairy farming and gardening.
The property, originally named Mighty Rivers Farm holds the verdant flats and hillsides at the end of a very rural jungle road. To the west of the land, Rio Perla (the Perla River) snakes down over the village-strewn mountain sides from Volcan Turrialba (the Turrialba Volcano) which stands in steaming regal grandeur to the south. Rio Perla wraps around this beloved property, marking its north-west border. To the east and south, on the opposite side of the farm, Rio Destierro (the Destierro River) comes down a rapidly descending ravine, also from the Volcan Turrialba direction, bringing her powerful and always crystal cold waters, bursting mirthfully forward as if eager to know their next rock-lined passage. Then, at the southern-most tip of the farm, these two amazing and mighty rivers converge, becoming one exuberant water, bound for the Caribbean Sea about fifty miles further down the slope.
The land, therefore, holds in her fields and slopes, the timeless symbol of sacred feminine — that of a river-drawn V, here preserving a powerful vortex of ancient tribute.
Exodus
Fast forward to 2007. As fate and Ka would have it, everyone except one sister, Barbara Lapp, returned to the Unites States due to various considerations. Remorseful tears notwithstanding, even I, the staunch proponent and guardian of this beautiful, yet abused and struggling wonder of Earth, returned to Colorado.
Against odds of monumental proportion Barbara and her husband Mauricio maintained their side of the farm, a lovely dairy and processing plant called Lecheria Las Lapas, on their own. As a result, the land was still here, patiently awaiting her day when the way would be cleared for me to return, along with David.