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Tonight Colin Millang spoke with passion on the inner and outer threats to farmers.  For the first time we were able to broadcast on #ds106radio!  Thanks to all who tuned in!  If you missed it, here is the recording.

Colin Millang Part 1

Colin Millang Part 2

Colin Millang Part 3

Colin Millang Part 4

Colin Millang Part 5

 

In reading Wendell Berry, I feel an immense urge to get in my truck, drive home to the farm I grew up on and hop on a tractor to help my Father finish harvesting.
I grew up on a little farm, about 16 hundred acres, on a reserve up north.
The sad realization that I have come to in reading Wendell is that I do not know how to use the land well. I do not have or make the time to use it well and I most definitely cannot afford to use it well. Yet, when people ask me if I’m a farm girl, I gloat and happily say yes. It is true that I have grown up hearing my father talk about how frustrating it is that the flood has taken away more than half our crop yield, or that he’ll have to sell X many cows if he expects to feed every cow with enough food this winter. But that’s just it I have heard stories like that all of my life, it’s all he talks about yet I still do not know how he operates the farm. I do not know his crop rotation, I do not know where he has decided to plow, I do not know how he knows every cow and bull in the fence, I just do not know…
I am in the line to inherit this land, yet I know nothing of it.
I feel that when I say that, I am a farm girl, diminishes those who work so hard to know the nature around them, to know how to cultivate it, or in Wendell’s words, to know how to converse with nature.
Wendell talks about a law that states, ” Land that is in human use must be lovingly used; it requires intimate knowledge, attention, and care.”
At this point in my life, I can honestly say that I could not tend to the land to the extent that my Father does now and I don’t know if I will be able to. My motivation to go back to the farm is very low. For so long I have been told to get an education and do better for myself then to live back home. I could have never predicted that it would be my education, my critical thinking, and my profs would subtly be pushing me back to the farm. Unfortunately that’s how I see it. That I would be working backwards. Talking to people who are still so captivated and blinded by the capitalistic and consumer culture, I too become blinded by greed. Through this cultural perspective, going back home would be seen as failure. I know in my heart that working with the land would have an ineffable spiritual value. My senses would connect to nature. I could learn to converse with nature… To learn and use all of my senses. So why!!! Why am I still so attracted to a culture that degrades and prevents the maturity of my mind and soul!!

Now more than ever I am feeling the weight of living in an over industrialized society that pays little or no attention to how, where, or who is processing their food. If more people were aware of these factory farms, perhaps we would revolutionize how we view food and farming. Or would we? Out of sight out of mind?
Our obsessions with becoming wealthy and rich has drawn our attention away from our rural roots and dragged us into urban areas where we can have a “successful” life. Growing up in a farming community, I was constantly told to go to university where I could make something of myself. Where I could have a successful life, get a real career and escape the dead ended lifestyle of farming. As children we never got to see such a thing as a “rich” farmer. But looking in hindsight, I suppose it all depends what you classify as rich. We watched our families struggle in debt and work day and night for measly pennies. So much work for little to no pay off. We were drove away because of the lack of opportunity in the farming industry. Nobody had dreams of becoming a farmer, and thus, many of my friends and I fled our rural roots to hopefully find something more fulfilling and more supportive that farming.
But when I really think about it, what is MORE supportive that having a wealth of knowledge on how to grow and produce your own food for yourself and your family? What is a better skill than knowing how to properly preserve vegetables so you can continue to survive through the winter? I am sad that I do not have any of these skills to feed myself and too look after myself. I am completely at the mercy of a depleted farming industry. If (or when) the economy crumbles and our currency has no value, the farmers will be the richest people of all.
As of right now I feel venerable. I grew a small pumpkin and two tomatoes in my sad garden this year. I hope that’s enough to sustain me in the winter should I need it to!

Watch this video:

This is what industrial farming looks like. What makes this okay? This is not an uncommon occurrence, yet why has it become an acceptable standard of practice?

The industrialization of farming has revolutionized agricultural practices, producing greater yields and outputs, but it has also created a significant disconnect between land and man. As Wendell Berry states, “Land that is in human use must be lovingly used; it requires intimate knowledge, attention and care.” The kind of knowledge, attention and care that only someone who is truly connected to the land can have, not someone who works a nine-to-five and lives for quitting time. The value of money is more cherished than the value of a healthy spirit and body, of a healthy land and a healthy planet. It is the difference between a job and a lifestyle that separates a family farm from an industrialized one. Berry describes how a family farm “implies longevity in the connection between family and farm” and how the success of a farm is not solely based on financial gain and production, but also considers the health of the spirit and body, and the health of a land.

Consider our actions and the effects that they are having upon all aspects of the natural world. Monocultures, for example, produce nothing for the soil; they kill dirt by destroying root cultures, causing erosion and desertification. Here’s a thought to consider from Dirt! The Movie:

“Erosion means the earth is hurt, it’s bleeding, and it’s in pain. We don’t understand it. Soil is a living system. That’s the problem; we treat it like it’s dead.”

Without the land, we are nothing. Ecological non-sustainability is fostering a greater disconnect from the natural world and a disregard for the immense role that the land plays in our lives. From the smallest molecule of dirt, to the larger organisms that we depend on to nurture our bodies, we are nothing without the natural world. We are made of the same five elements that the Earth is made of; we are a part of it, yet our actions are relentlessly distancing us from it. We must reconsider our role within the natural world and the effects that we have upon it; otherwise, we are going to be forever faced with the consequences of our actions.

We, as a society, have allowed the degradation of animals from creatures of God to Descartes ideal world where they are merely units of production in a system dominated by man where we take away everything natural, behavioural, and instinctive for these animals and replace it with the cold, barren world of concrete and metal. We have taken ‘dominion of the land’ to the extreme where we are no longer stewards but subjugators. The wanton horrors we commit are in the name of progress, short-term economics, and cheap food. We have disassociated the meat we eat from living breathing creatures because we have to in order to rationalize our actions. A quote from Mahatma Gandhi is often paraphrased as “The greatness of a nation can be judged by the way its animals are treated.” What kind of a society are we living in based on pain, cruelty and suffering? Is it healthy to continue down this path? We have become disconnected from the dirt and plants after the Green Revolution and now we have become disconnected to life that is so similar to us. When we cannot show mercy and compassion those who have no voice of their own then we are farming our own conscience on an industrial scale so that we become numb with no feeling.

Reflection is an interesting phenomenon. One might say it is the pursuit of insight.

Insight is neither planned nor expected. It ebbs quietly like the tide; we sit in the sand as the odd reach of water licks our feet, teasing us and leaving only dry salt between our toes. Watching the horizon with intent, the expanse seems eternal and by a desire to see more, we will it to change. But who can change the ocean? Precisely in the moment when our yearning seems to fail us, we are caught by a crashing wave that pulls us into the very essence of the tides, where we are thrown about by the currents before being washed up on shore to bask in the sun. The expanse has not changed, but again we peer at the horizon— this time from a different spot on the beach.

It is curious, but I have little to say about our reading today. Perhaps my view of the horizon is obstructed by my preoccupations right here on the edge of the water. It is sometimes enough, however, to steward the stretch of sand that lies right before us.

Hans

It is so…quiet

…serene

…beautiful

…fragile

We are so…loud

…disconnected

…far away

…ugly

But, we are strong.

As we walk I feel so sure of my belonging

And I think of all I’ve read,

Of all I’ve learned, and still though I belong

I feel I shouldn’t feel this way.

I’m no organic farmer; I grow no food, sustain no others, and nourish no Earth

How then do I feel this connection, this growing tether holding me?

I never want to leave.

I don’t want this to change.

But now, I go back to my heated little box, surrounded by the very things that threaten what I’ve just experienced.

And I fear that it will end.

Well, folks.  As with all technology, there’s always a little hurdling to do before it gets going straight.  So this class was not properly broadcast on #ds106radio because the lovely spot on the grass where we were all enjoying the lecture this evening was just a tad too far away from the wifi.  Oh well.  By the second half of class I got the ZOOM audio recorder set up and we get a really nice recording of Craig’s lecture.  It really was an excellent evening of story, sharing, and connection to the land!

I especially enjoyed the reading from Craig’s pioneering family member.  What a gift to have that amazing story recorded.  Not only to understand one’s family, but now I know how I’d go about building a rabbit trap!

Craig Wentland Spirit of the Land part 1

Craig Wentland Spirit of the Land part 2

In the past I’ve had conversations with friends about intimacy and human connection, be it connection with a friend, partner, parent, and the feeling of thirst that accompanies it. The natural ebb and flow of life is such that there are times when you’re so well connected with others that your thirst nearly disappears– as well as others when you may grow lethargic, unspirited and dull, from going too long in an extended state of thirst. Sometimes the thirst becomes so strong that when a hug or embrace is received, you envision your bodies melting together because somehow, only the joining of blood vessels, bones, brains, and hearts will satiate the thirst that has developed.  Every hug becomes an opportunity to join hearts.

Lately after morning runs or evening walks, I stop to take a moment to do some sun salutations simply to stop, breathe, be present. I repeatedly find myself in child’s pose, with my hands extended in front of me, my forehead firmly on the ground, and my knees folded below. The image shifts. My brain forms the image of roots extending out of my forehead, deep into the ground, connecting to the heart beat taking place below me. I become part of the living body of the land, in a form of intimacy that is seemingly so simple. My thirst for connection resides.

As I receive a hug that I never had to wait for.

One of the biggest questions that, The Nature Principle drew my attention to the most was, what do we miss seeing, hearing, and knowing because we allow the tangle of technology’s wire to tighten around us a little more each day? What else can we do that we have forgotten?

I have heard time and time again that human’s only tap into a very small amount of our brain throughout our daily lives. Meaning that there is such a vast amount that we do not harness nor take advantage of but how do we harness these senses? Yesterday, I was on my way to lead a seminar for Aboriginal studies. I was feeling rushed as I made a smoothie for the class. I looked in the cupboard to choose a cup for the smoothie, as I reached for the canning jar that I was going to make my cup, a voice came in my mind, “don’t use that one”. Now … I must admit that I am the type of person that can have a hundred conversations in my head, argue with myself, and both win and lose these battles. But THIS voice, it was different. Nevertheless, I shrugged it off and decided it was the perfect cup.

I longboarded to school shortly after, which then I proceeded to fall off my longboard where the glass cup broke and slit my hand open. I was overwhelmed with emotion at the time, yet now that I look back, I can hear that voice clearly. This brings me to another part of the book, poverty of the senses. I see that voice now, as my intuition. For such a long time I have not heard it, or maybe it is that I have not listened to it. I think that if any sense, this is one that I want to learn to listen to it. To be able to discern it in my head but most of all, learn to listen to what it is trying to warn me about.

Like I said earlier, we humans only tap into such a small part of our brains. I do not know how intuition works but there are so many times in my life where it could have been useful if I just listened. The mind, the brain, the heart all give us signals and I need to learn to listen.