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processed cheese slice with yellow dye #5
or
raw-milk artisanal cheese from a small farm?
canteloupe melons tasting like cardboard
or
freshly plucked cherry tomatoes bursting with sun-ripened flavor?
cornfed-antibiotic-supplemented-growth-hormone-infested beef from a feedlot cow with red dye #3 to make it look fresh
or perhaps
no meat at all?
this or that?
In the end how much does an investment banker's work really contribute to my quality of life? Nada, nothing. Same goes for a real estate developer's work, a sports champion's work (some people may disagree, but I believe certain professional athletes are vastly overpaid for what they do), and many other overpaid and overvalued jobs that we have come to admire simply because they earn lots of money.
Instead I'd like to sing a song to our unsung heroes, the farmers. They are generally underpaid and overworked for the long hours they work and the incredible risks they have to take year after year. Yet without them we are nothing, not even alive. No farms, no food, as the bumper sticker goes. Weather conditions are a real gamble and a constant source of worry for farmers. Wet or dry summers mean less money. And what about several-year droughts? What about the difficult decisions between new technologies and true sustainability? The question whether bigger is better? Farmers simply don't get credited or appreciated for the importance of their work.
Many pioneering young farmers do this job out of conviction and passion for a better world, and unfortunately have to work for a pittance. The government should be giving away farmland to willing and qualified farmers to encourage farming in areas with a sustainable climate (certainly not out west). Why not subsidize small farms, sustainable farms, organic farms, new farmers? That would acknowledge the value of the farmers' life sustaining function. We ought to thank our farmers, we ought to celebrate them, we need to support them.
Guess where I went today?
My daughter loves all animals, and her cats to pieces. She was never afraid of animals, not even when she was little and got bitten by a big dog. A few months ago she got a Betta fish. Now she is doing extensive research on a proper diet for this predator of a fish, that sadly oftentimes only gets fed pellets and flakes in captivity. This diet can eventually lead to illness, as can feeding kibbles to cats and dogs, feeding grain to cattle, and the Western Diet to mankind. We are what we eat, and so are animals.
I am so pleased that she wants to give her little fish the best possible food for his kind, and realizing the importance of diet on a living thing. She told me that Betta fish thrive on blood worms (ahem...), preferably live ones (not so sure about that one...), and brine shrimp.
This post is really not about the specifics of Betta fish food, but rather about the direct connection between diet and health and wellbeing in all living things. I wrote previously about the homemade raw cat food our cats thrive on, and which emulates as closely and feasibly as possible what a feline would eat in its natural habitat. The dried foods the pet food industry promotes are less than sorry versions of a carnivore's natural diet, as are packaged supermarket foods for us. If you are still interested in the ideal Betta fish diet, here is a very humorously written webpage on it.
We all need our own version of bloodworms and brine shrimp.
The advice not to lose the forest for the trees general a good one because the big picture frames our perspective and reminds us not to get lost in minutiae. This is especially practical advice when trying to get something accomplished. Yet, you may miss out on some hidden jewels.
Contemplating nature's details can be a deeply meditative activity. I am always amazed at the intricate and delicate details of my orchid blossoms. Nature creates such incredible complexity on such a micro level, it's awe inspiring. It's also easy to pass by without noticing it. The first picture above just shows an abundance of phalaenopsis orchids, too many to look at the details. But get down on your knees - so to speak - and the colors alone of the orchid center are spectacular. Orange, crimson red, lime green, and lemon yellow set against a porcelain white background. And how about the shapes, tiny as they are? So elaborate, so intricate. How about the two wispy filigreed extensions, that start out white and end in a curled yellow spiral? Or the yellow and red striped part in the throat of the orchid? Or the orange pad (is it the stigmatic surface?) with the red dots in the very center? And did you notice the see through holes the petal shapes are creating? Or the interesting shape of the lip, the protruding part the insect would land on?
Ultimately the names of the parts don't matter at all. It is about the experience of savoring the exquisite details and colors inside the otherwise so sculpturally white orchid that gives me such pleasure when I walk past the flower that I need to stop every time and tell it how beautiful, how perfect it is.
Of course you can contemplate other shapes in nature and be awed - moss for example, or crystals, or a butterfly's wings. There is endless beauty, perfection and intricacy to be found all around. Each one merits its own attention.
Hearing bear stories and seeing one up close are two different things. A few days ago I observed a bear out of my office window, playing with a log, meandering along the tree line, trying to get down from the cliff behind our house, then deciding it was too steep, and slowly disappearing back into the woods. Today, I took a - brief - lunchtime walk and saw what I presume was the same bear, slowly crossing the road in the not-so-distant distance. I was in awe and treaded back, hence the brevity of the walk.
Even the Native Americans respect the bear because it is so powerful and can be fickle. It behooves us to respect nature, to bow in reverence before its grandeur, power, unpredictability, and force, whether nature comes in animal, plant, weather or geological form. It seems to me that we as a culture
have unlearned to work with it, alongside it, leaving it alone when need be, and not walking all over it with disrespect and hubris. When we live away from nature we tend to see nature as something different from us, something we can use and exploit.
But are we not nature, too?
Yes, bamboo socks. There are a lot of new and old cool natural fibers out there that are still crowded out by the cotton lobbies and what not. But as we explore alternatives to the oh-so-last century petroleum based nylons and polyesters (please, people, make some better gym shorts!) we find that many of these fibers are more drought tolerant than our beloved cotton, organic or not, can be grown in poorer soil, and thus require far less water, chemical pesticides and fertilizers. These fibers tolerate broader weather imbalances and many of them grow fast. And, not unimportant either, they are natural and comfortable to wear.
I had no clue that you could make fiber out of bamboo until I found these socks, which are incredibly soft and comfortable to wear. Although I later learned that the process is not so eco-friendly compared to some other natural fibers out there.
Better alternative fibers are hemp (poo pooed for years because of the supposed marijuana connection - but it is a non-psychoactive member of the cannabis family), which is drought tolerant and easy to grow, as is flax (currently mostly grown for its omega-3 rich seeds). Lyocell or its tradename Tencel, which doesn't sound very natural and has its detractors because it goes undergoes a lengthy industrial process, is a fiber made from eucalyptus trees. Something really exotic is SeaCell fiber made from cellulose and seaweed (mmh, maybe better to eat the seaweed), and also SoySilk, made from the leftovers of the tofu industry (now that's a good one, what with all the tofu we now eat).
So many new fibers made from natural materials to explore.
I find the color Green very soothing. It seems restful to my eyes. I love when vibrant green begins to mix into the drab gray browns of winter and slowly takes over by the end of May. I can look at an expanse of thick juicy green grass for ever and feel peaceful. Walking in the woods I enjoy staring at the dense green tree canopy.
"Green, the result of photosynthesis, which creates all of our food, is the color of life," says Petra Fromme of AZSU. The NY Times reported in a recent article on the color green that blue and green are the world's favorite colors. Our vision is optimized for green, says Bevil Conway of Wellesley College.
Not only our mind, but our body, too, thrives on greens, whether in the form of leafy green vegetables, that miracle healer wheat grass juice (2oz of it provides as many nutrients as 5lbs of raw vegetables - wow!), that other super healer chlorella algae, and various other mineral rich sea vegetables.
As Popeye already said.....
On this sunny morning I heard a bird chirping away in a nearby tree while I was getting ready - how beautiful after a long winter of silence. I find that there is nothing more pure and clear than the bright voice of a song bird - effortless perfection. I didn't know what kind of a bird I was listening to, and it didn't really matter. Besides, words often utterly fail to describe an experience. They tend to be insufficient and cumbersome. That moment was an exquisite experience, no words needed.
After a long winter indoors it feels so good to be outside, open your arms wide in exuberance, and breathe in the fresh moist spring air in big gulps. Ahhhhhh.........Smelling the air is a thrilling experience, just like digging into the dirt and feeling the soil crumble in your hands, touching the tender spring flowers and shoots that are coming up out of the ground, seeing the fresh spring colors emerging, and listening to the gentle breeze whooshing in the trees.
What we don't usually realize is that all of these sensations occur simultaneously. What a much deeper experience to pause and take all of these impressions in together, the way they actually occur. When you are fully in that moment with nature it becomes an overwhelmingly complex, almost dizzying meditation. How does that moment feel then?
On the other hand, when we dissect a moment's experience into the different names we give it - hearing the breeze, smelling the fresh air, feeling the tender shoots, seeing the fresh colors - we experience these sensations consecutively. The separation occurs because we put the sensations into words, which inherently happen consecutively, and because we think about them. We can't simultaneously think about three different sensations that happen at the same time. Impossible. But we can experience them if we become still, get the words out of the way, and just BE. Just being makes you shift from seeing the world in consecutive flat segments, to a complex holographic whole.
San Francisco diverts 80% of its trash from landfills. Its goal is to become a zero waste city by 2020, meaning that no household garbage goes back into the waste stream, but instead will be entirely recycled or composted (industrial and commercial garbage are a much greater challenge yet).
If you live in a single family home take a look at your own garbage and recycling cans. What size are they? Which one is bigger? If your garbage can is the same size or bigger than your recycling can there is room for improvement. If you live in an apartment and bring your garbage and recycling to the communal building cans you may have less of a gauge of the quantities of waste you produce, and the ratio between recycling/composting and garbage. Still, become aware of which you empty more often, your recycling or your garbage, and where you may be able to improve.
I must confess that I currently don't compost, although that will change come spring. My composting can is waiting out there, deeply buried in the snow. Other than that, we recycle everything we possibly can. Besides the obvious, such as newspapers and glass jars, it includes toilet paper and paper towel rolls, yogurt cups, aluminum foil, all recyclable plastic bagging or packaging, gift wrap, paper tags and what not. In an average week (meaning no parties) our family of four produces about one big 13 gallon (biodegradable) garbage bag full of waste. That includes what ought to go onto the compost pile (tea leaves, produce scraps, egg shells, coffee grounds, tissues and paper towels). Once we compost again our waste output should be about half a big trash bag full per week.
Please return to previous posts on the environmental trash mess, recycling more, buying less and producing less waste. Then become inspired to waste less.
