Saturday, June 6, 2009

Real Life Can't Wait

This was originally posted at What Would Jesus Eat?

I'm settling in to the rhythm of life here nicely. Only two weeks and it’s hard to believe life was ever different than this. When I was watching my kids full time, I often found excuses to go to the store. Mainly it was to get out of the house, but I could always find something we “needed.” to justify the trip. Since i have been at the farm I have not made a single trip to the store. I have hardly left the farm it seems. And that is just fine with me.

In many ways life has slowed down considerably. I’m not pulled in thirty different directions. At the same time, however, there is lots more to do. I have barely touched our education garden which is in desperate need of some love and attention. There always so many things that need to get done on the farm. The difference is that everything that needs to get done has to do with my own sustenance and the lives of the people around me. My work here is never in vain.

Some of the things that felt most productive in my previous life (pre-farm) were in reality not accomplishing much at all. Far from the efficiency of industrial agriculture, the productivity here also includes play and building community, sharing stories and meals. We produce so much more than food, because we put so much more than simple labor into it. That is something that cannot be produced by agricultural science. Just like the many elements of compost that benefit plants beyond the synthetic fertilizer formula of Nitrogen, Potassium and Phosphorus, there are so many elements of a sustainable life that don’t fit into equations.

There are times when life here seems inefficient and unorganized, but I’m also beginning to see the benefits of organizing our lives that way. There are a lot of ways the farm could run more smoothly. Those changes will be good and helpful when they are made, but they will still be there for us to work on tomorrow as we work on the areas of life and work that sustain our bodies and souls today. Efficiency and productivity can wait. Real life can’t.

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

a patchwork poem.

(based on george ella lyon's poem 'where i'm from' – sewn together from the shared stories of farm folk during our morning devotions)

we are . . .

we are from travelers and passion, lost tv marathons and big heads, the church-going and the reserved, from christianity and healing, genericana and white.

we are from the suburbs, the development, the home sweet home and yankee candles, from the outlandishly silent, the cornfields, the rolling hills and bluegrass, the dust.

who loves the hammocks, basil, the smell of countryside, the wonder years, lovers, praying and industrial waste, trying.

we are from the tobacco state, the fields of cattle, from the compost, the soybeans, from bermuda grass, the red oak, from the waves, the spray, from the river, the changing current.

who fear rabid squirrels, cockroaches and being alone in the dark, embarrassment, death by drowning, stability, just getting a job, losing family.

who dream of being together, veggie-fueled buses, of wandering gypsies, bartering, of liberation.

residents of tejas!, heaven, anywhere and nowhere, nowhere and everywhere, nowhere.

we are from flesh, from bread and God, from dirt, from dr. bronners and cabbage, from the chronicles of narnia and porch swing evenings, from cherry pie and save-a-lot, yellow rubber gloves, from dawn detergent and blue sofa covers, keyboards, mousepads, and look-at-your-own-screen, hot water heaters, from General Electric.

we are from the meditative and radical, the stubborn and hard-working, the right, the reticent and suspiciously polite, the outreach and expression, from the broken ones who still cling.

from stay-away-from-danger and stay-away-from-dirt,
from you-really-hurt-your-mother's-feelings-when-you-don't-take-out-the-garbage and we-are-so-proud-of-your-report-card,
from don't-write-on-your-hand and don't-drink-and-chew-or-go-with-girls-who-do,
from God-loves-you and Jesus-loves-you,
from just-follow-what-the-clouds-tell-you and you-will-be-a-great-mother.

we are the lone star belt buckle of the bible belt, modern x-ianity, Christ, Jesus, from love-one-another.

we are from where cement grows, from beans and rice with cornbread and spinach, from bread and potatoes, ligonberries and swedish meatballs, tuna noodle and sweet tea and brownies, from honey bunches of oats and bean burgers.

from the Polio outbreak, from the farmer and the bible-thumper, from the poor white family and the business savvy, the college drop-outs and the wild young men who joined the Jesus movement and moved to a farm.

we are from leaves, sunburned beaches and beaches that sunburn, from homeschool groups, big gatherings and lonely years, from storage sheds, but more than that – from stories and memories.

we are . . .