Author: Kerstyn Lane

“And he watches Lightning, whom he does not love. That one, he thinks, will be hard put to be worth what he will eat. For he is one who believes in a way out. As long as he as two choices, or thinks he has, he will never do his best or think of the possibility of the best”

–Wendell Berry: Bringing it to the Table, 217

            Perhaps many of us can relate to Berry’s story, having had to put up with a character who does not know the meaning of hard work, maybe whose apathy gets in the way of their engagement, or someone whose blatant ignorance is frustrating beyond belief. I too feel this lack of love for individuals such as these. It’s a common malaise of our postmodern times, the malaise of choice. We can be engaged in as much as, or as little as we please, for our own accountability is rarely held to anyone other than ourselves. We do not have to follow politics if we do not wish, or divest from our consumer lifestyles, even get out of bed in the morning.

Fundamentally though, I would argue our choices have consequences, and in paying attention to the value of our choices, the potential of our actions, and strength with which we may proceed, the opportunities that ensue our engagement extend beyond our imaginations. Beginning with our plates: we may choose to eat responsibility to better care for the land that sustains us, the farmers who provide that sustenance, and to show respect for an omnivorous nature that imposes incredible strains on the natural environment. 3 times a day, maybe more, we may vote with our fork to make meaningful change to the food system, in particular. Our acts of consumption are not dissociated from politics, and Berry reminds us that it is in the conscious consumers hands to enact positive change on a personal, and systemic level.

We must then be conscious of choice, and the implications of our choices. For those who are unaware, or disengaged from these consequences, utmost love and nurturance is due. We must be careful to not condemn them for their ignorance, but instead lead by example and demonstrate the bounty and wholeness that accompanies our decisions to have concern for the environment, the welfare of people, and health of our bodies. Let us embark on this journey together, one meal at a time.

 

After Colin’s presentation last week, there were some unresolved feelings towards the style of telling and content of his story. Though I am welcome to and grateful for Colin’s sharing of his experience, I had to keep re-framing what he was saying again and again for the content to fit my paradigm. I am not a child of God in my view, but a child of the universe. A product of the energy and transformation our spirit and history has provided each and every being in existence. Now, Barry Lopez’s article offers an approach I had not considered. Eden as a Conversation gives the opportunity to realize that the language we are using, though different, speaks to similar lessons and concepts. Though for a bit of the presentation I was lost in translation, the possibility of utilizing his own lessons as they are fit for me become a simple matter of recognizing their differences, as well as their similarities.

Lopez’s statement that “We need to prefer being in love to being in power” accompanies this idea. It does not matter whose faith is more prevalent, but that we utilize our spirituality to heal, to come to terms with one another, and to build those relationships that are so integral to inhabiting this planet together. Building, and maintaining these relationships: to ourselves, each other, and this beautiful planet enables our ability to join the conversations of sustainability, peace, and happiness.

 

As I happily sat cross-legged in the park near to the buildings I would later be required to confine myself in to discuss social theory of community, reading and re-reading the words of Wendell Berry, I often took moments to pause: moments to feel the wind through my hair, the sun on my cheek, the falling leaves on my shoulder. I feel connected to this place, to Augustana, to Camrose. It may derive from my historical roots, as many family members settled in the area, it may come from the strong social bonds I have made with individuals from all over the community, but I think it largely comes from the immediate connection I feel to the earth beneath my feet, so comfortable, radiating the sentiment that I am right where I need to be.

Connecting the dots, I have found that the themes revolving around my courses this year are all dealing with intricately related issues: community, social change, spirit of the land, and food. Berry too, makes these connections in the enlightening essays that have sparked this conversation. Perhaps many have not recognized the strong agricultural community that supports Camrose; the community becomes most prevalent when I attend the Thursday or Saturday farmers market (how incredible is it that the mall plays host to not one, but two markets per week–the times when I firmly believe the shopping mall sees the highest influx of buyers). Realistically, what has been brought to light in these essays is the ignorance many members of mainstream society maintain while shopping for food stuffs in grocery and department stores–perhaps not realizing that the origins of the ‘nourishment’ we know today are having heavy ecological and societal impacts: cheap labor, factory farms, industrial agriculture with its heavy reliance on chemical fertilizers and pesticides. It seems the strong ties of community and agriculture that vibrantly exist world wide are but mere skeletons on the national stage.

When our food is purchased, grown, or acquired consciously-from sources to be respected, and roots we understand-the food not only tastes better, but we may then better recognize our place in the system. Our place as co-creators and producers, rather than mindless consumers. We may then better recognize our responsibility to tend the earth that is becoming exhausted beyond measure; our responsibility to our community to support and maintain these local food networks that are building livelihoods that thrive, rather than merely exist. Since I have not come from a farming background, these notions and connections were knitted through my education, and my passion. Though, regardless of where we are coming from, there is no time like the present to be thankful for the farmers who respect their land, who respect their passion, and are forming resilient communities that resonate on frequencies of cooperation and gratitude.

 

 

Richard Louv successfully weaves an entertaining writing style with concepts and ideas which draw our attention to the prevalent disconnect that exists between individuals from the land, and individuals from each other. On page 26 of The Nature Principle, Louv writes “society seems to look everywhere but the natural domain for the enhancement of intelligence;” increasing dependence on science and technology for abstract decision making aids global tensions, immediately evident within the Syrian conflict and other examples of contemporary warfare.

I came across an article this morning which shared Vladimir Putin’s address to the Obama Administration regarding involvement in the Syrian conflict. Echoes of cooperation and dialogue were heard, and I finished the article with a sense that world leaders (largely from the United States of America) are relinquishing diplomatic engagements as a direct result of their disconnect from one another…perhaps this disconnect stems from the expansion and proliferation of the global market economy which is driving a culture of consumption, and thus furthering our disconnect from nature.

I am not suggesting that the political leaders of the world join together for a drum circle and sing kumbaya before consultations, but perhaps contemplative practices which include nature, and that foster a connection with the self, the land, and its inhabitants would help the evolution of these conversations to reach a state of agreement, or in the least cooperation…Louv suggests that when more time is spent with nature, mental effectiveness is enhanced and the mind may be restored-thereby enhancing our abilities make long-term decisions (28), which seems to be the most pressing matter in this circumstance. A restored sense of fascination with nature, rather then the drive for mastery over it, may just supplement the efforts for peace in contemporary times.

As a disclaimer I want you you to know I am not well versed in the domain of politics, but I find the area to be one of increasing global importance, especially with the onset of potential chemical warfare. The article I am referring to may be found here: http://news.sky.com/story/1140518/syria-crisis-vladimir-putins-letter-to-america

 

Sight, smell, sounds; three of five senses I perhaps take for granted on a daily basis but when brought to acute attention serve to elevate a sense of presence and awareness. The mindful walk that I was fortunate to enjoy with the Spirit of the Land class revealed to me that when we carry out daily practices mindfully (i.e walking) –through giving acknowledgement to what we see, smell, and hear– our place in the world only depends on what is with us at that moment.

Upon discussing the apparent kiss of fall and current shift in seasons, I could not help but notice that little was spoken of the season that follows autumn, which in other conversations has followed suit. While we remained on the topic of the changing colours of the leaves, the musky smell of the forest bottom, and the crisp temperature that accompanies the fall of evening, no mention was made of the signification this has for a potential long, cold winter to come. In remaining mindful, and thus present in the moment, negative thoughts of this winter had not even emerged, but rather appreciation and gratitude were shared among the group.

I walked away from our group this evening feeling more connected to those I shared these moments with, and to the valley located so close to our campus. Spending time in nature with the intention of being fully present I believe has the potential to heal our spirit, collectively and individually, as we become better able to enjoy the moments we have for just what they are.