Sweetness to all,
Jenell
For Christmas this year my daughter got me David Suzuki’s Green Guide. Although it details the catastrophic impact we have on our planet, it wasn’t at all paralyzing. In fact, David Suzuki outlines meaningful actions that we can take to change our relationship to agriculture, transportation, energy use, and politics. I am definitely going to be referring back to various sections to slowly change my awareness and habits. There are so many possibilities, from simple to more challenging. It is empowering. Suzuki also includes references for further research (books, documentaries and websites). Here is one of many lists he suggests:
12 Guiding Principles of Sustainable Consumption
Among the many suggestions, there were only a couple things that didn’t vibe with me. I don’t agree with Suzuki’s recommendation to eat highly processed soy products for regular meat substitutes, and I don’t agree that we should use compact fluorescent lights. Here’s an article a friend of mine wrote on CFLs, and another on a more healthful alternative—incandescent lights. David Suzuki is human and has his own perceptual lense. He is a scientist and a modern man. I would prefer more back to basics ideas, but that is my perceptual lense. So despite the fact that I don’t agree with everything he says, I do sense that David Suzuki truly loves the natural world. He has integrity, and I trust him.
Today I signed up for his Nature Challenge. He sends a weekly e-newsletter, suggesting things you can do. Check out his website. If your library doesn’t have his book, request it. And if you just can’t get it, his website is very informative. It is largely addressed to his fellow Canadians, but the principles are universal.
And what’s more universal than time? I appreciate that Suzuki addresses our busy lifestyles. He says, “If you’re time-poor because of work or other obligations, then you’re much more likely to drive than cycle or take transit, more likely to eat fast food or junk food than prepare a healthy meal, and more likely to buy inefficient or potentially toxic products (because you lack the time to do any research). When people are time poor, they have less time to spend on the activities that create happiness, such as socializing with friends, pursuing hobbies, and engaging with their communities.” This, in itself, is revolutionary. And we homeschoolers are leaders in that front. We have time to figure out our relationships with ourselves, each other, the environment, and the spirit.
While I ardently believe in homeschooling as a revolutionary act, I have been pretty loose with my ideals and my homeschooling this year. I want to start working towards health again. So, while I don’t normally have New Year's resolutions, I really need to reassess my life and clarify my intentions. But I felt like the list in my head kept growing and growing. I’m so far from who I want to be! How did this happen?! I was feeling a lot of anxiety as the New Year approached. When I actually wrote my list down, however, it wasn’t so long. And, in fact, it was basically in line with what Suzuki says above, a wish to spend time on activities that create happiness, such as socializing with friends, pursuing hobbies, and engaging with my community.
This is my New Year’s wish to all of you.
To see a child eat—is pleasure. Visceral goodness.
Eating with their fingers. Smacking their lips.
Food encircling their mouth in delight.
I am not an authority on etiquette or grace,
But I no longer eat like a child.
My food is consumed more quietly,
With functional refinement, barely touching my lips.
Rarely is a meal experienced in such a sensual, lip-smacking way.
I recently noticed, however, that I was eating loudly—
Eating loudly, perhaps, because I was eating quickly,
Shoveling. I became aware—
Like I’d been transported to a darkened, lonely stage,
And the spotlight…landing…on…me.
I was slightly embarrassed,
Like a sleepwalker being awoken
And not knowing how she got there.
From behind the red velvet curtain, an old soul reminded me—
Do not confuse etiquette with grace. Be mindful.
My spotlight expanded.
In front of me—a bowl of tangerines.
And I began my innocent monologue:
Taking hold of the tangerine,
You are taking a trip
(The inside-out
Of a mobius strip).
Peeling the tangerine,
You unleash a fragrant mist
(Scent of earthly lovers
In a springtime tryst).
Come together earth and rain,
Take hold of bundled seed,
Burst forth in fragile blossom,
And in the fruit is freed.
Each segment a ray,
Bringing light to my soul,
A season of suns,
Making me whole.
From inside-out
To outside-in,
Celestial star songs
Dripping down my chin.
All the new thinking is about loss.
In this it resembles all the old thinking.
The idea, for example, that each particular erases
the luminous clarity of a general idea. That the clown-
faced woodpecker probing the dead sculpted trunk
of that black birch is, by his presence,
some tragic falling off from a first world
of undivided light. Or the other notion that,
because there is in this world no one thing
to which the bramble of blackberry corresponds,
a word is elegy to what it signifies.
We talked about it late last night and in the voice
of my friend, there was a thin wire of grief, a tone
almost querulous. After a while I understood that,
talking this way, everything dissolves: justice,
pine, hair, woman, you and I. There was a woman
I made love to and I remembered how, holding
her small shoulders in my hands sometimes,
I felt a violent wonder at her presence
like a thirst for salt, for my childhood river
with its island willows, silly music from the pleasure boat,
muddy places where we caught the little orange-silver fish
called pumpkinseed. It hardly had to do with her.
Longing, we say, because desire is full
of endless distances. I must have been the same to her.
But I remember so much, the way her hands dismantled bread,
the thing her father said that hurt her, what
she dreamed. There are moments when the body is as numinous
as words, days that are the good flesh continuing.
Such tenderness, those afternoons and evenings,
saying blackberry, blackberry, blackberry.
This post is inspired by and in response to Mon of Holistic Mama. She wrote a great post today about the extinction of words.
Birthday Rap
Despite the fact
That you're not an early riser;
Twice your age,
But I'm none the wiser.
You've got an open heart
And an open mind;
Within everyone
You see the divine.
On the Human Potential Movement,
You put a new spin~
Bringing to life
What you envision within.
Guitar, pencil and wool
You bend to your will
While reuben, chai and sushi
Give you your fill.
Happy Birthday, hippie sista'!
So sad we missed ya.
But you're in our heart
Whether near or afar....
In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto by Michael Pollan