CSA - Community Support Agriculture

It’s time!  Even with the cold and snow outside, it’s time to sign up for your local farm share; for a bag of delicious, local and (in some cases) organic produce from a farmer near you.  They need your commitment; cause it’s almost planting time.

Have you ever planted a garden?  Maybe a couple tomatoes in a pot? Or even a full-on-dug-out garden? It’s hard. Real hard. Spring tricks you with her gorgeous weather; her warm, breezy days; you WANT to be outside; you want to crumble black dirt against your skin; you plot and plan; purchase, plant and water. Food, flowers, herbs -- Yeah!

But then life goes on; you go away for the weekend; no rain; no one waters the plants; things die.  Or things grow like crazy; weeds take over.  Some years, you have a thousand cucumbers that you don’t know what to do with; the next year you have three; three crappy little cucumbers. You remember the song where they sing “to everything there is a season; turn, turn, turn.”

But for your local farmer; the smaller operations; we’re not talking agribusiness here; they take the same gamble; but if they lose, they can’t make the mortgage; pay the insurance; take care of the kids. This is their livelihood.

Why is it that this society, this culture, ranks low the most important people? The people who grow our food?  Those who educate the children?  Our elders who have lived most life and seen so much?  In this culture, our priorities are broken; and our world reflects this broken-ness.

I’ve talked many a friend into signing up for Seven Springs Farm CSA (Community Supported Agriculture); I have been sharing with them for at least 12 years.  My friends, they all love the beautiful, fresh food. Knowing it’s organic; being able to work at the farm and contribute to the good in the world. But several times when it comes to the next year, they don’t sign up again. They don’t like being given certain things each week; they don’t understand the harvest and the risk; they feel it’s expensive paying for it all in chunks instead of just buying what they want once a week. They worry about waste and prefer to go to the farmer’s market.

I understand; I do!  And I’m not down on the farmer’s markets; they are amazing places which create community and connections. Hopefully there will be more and more direct connections between farmers and consumers.  But there is also waste, just like with a CSA; sometimes we buy things we don't use; we let some fabulousness compost in the back of our fridge.

Remember though -- at the farmer's market; those luscious vegetables laid out before you in the sun on the table; what do you think happens to what you do not buy? Compost -- which is a better fate than the grocery store produce.  So be thankful that those vegetables just become fresh new dirt for your local farmer; because the organic vegetables at the grocery store that have been flown thousands of miles for your dining pleasure go into the landfill when you do not purchase them.  Keep in mind when you purchase a farm share, there is not necessarily more waste; there is just waste that you feel responsible for; that you can see.

Food is everything; control the food, you control the people; so who controls your world? Take responsibility; make a commitment; decide that there are things more important that convenience and cost.  Make a commitment to someone whose hand you can shake; someone who is saving the world in their small-but-large way. I can personally recommend both Seven Springs Farm and Good Food Good People locally; do some research; ask some friends. And become part of the solution.

Shanti,

Jill

http://www.7springsfarm.com/

http://goodfoodgoodpeople.net/

 

Safe Journey, Beloved Mary

Just received word that a beautiful guiding light has transitioned from the Earth; my friend, Mary Whitney; brilliant astrologer and all-around gorgeous human; it is hard for me to understand; she seemed to have so much more to do here.  But that is the thing about karma; it is not for us to understand another soul’s journey; only to be grateful that we crossed paths.

My first-ever astrology reading was with Mary; I met her on retreat; along with her darling husband, Gary. Just honest-to-goodness-great-kind-earthy-real people.  Had no idea what to expect from an astrology reading; I was just beginning attempt to grasp even the tiniest bits of the vast science. My entire sense of self and perspective on what had happened in my life transformed as we discussed my natal chart.  I remember so clearly, she said to me “Oh my God . . . what happened to you between the ages of 18 and 25?” 

“Seriously!” was the first reaction of my mind; and it the first time that began to understand that the dark years; the terrible, terrible hardness of it; it had been decided; foretold; I had chosen these lessons, and they were not easy.

As I thanked her for that observation she commented, “Well; if you didn’t die, and you didn’t kill anyone else, you managed the karma well; the transits are astonishing to see.” 

It changed my perspective completely; from the outside to the inside and then back out. I wasn’t a failure for what had happened; for the choices I had made; I had managed the karma.  All those years spent beating myself up for what had happened; this knowledge gifted me with the ability to set that burden down.

She was a direct disciple and devout student of Goswami Kriyananda; one of his original students of astrology; and an ordained Swami who loved to perform weddings and other ceremonies.  When we last spoke she told stories of listening to Kriyananda lecture; the same lectures I now listen to many years later on CDs; I love to imagine her sitting in the room with him; taking note; smiling and laughing at his sweet jokes. 

The last time I hugged her was at my dear sister Gracia’s ordination as a Swami in the Kriya order; since that time she suffered from a major health crisis; fought back hard to regain her regular life and practice as an astrologer; my last reading with her was in the Fall.

She had to work a little harder to do the reading; to think things through; to speak clearly; but she demonstrated over and over her great memory of not only what she learned through the years but even small details of the very few times we had been together.

“Are you still dating that lovely young man we met at the ordination?” she inquired, referring to my 55-year old boyfriend.  I was so happy to be able to say yes; especially because of her magical relationship with her husband; Mary fully understood the power of love.

She related the plans for their 50^th wedding anniversary celebration, even though it would be a couple years away. My heart goes out to her husband; theirs is a love story that makes one be assured that there can be soulmates.

So go hug your children; send an “i love u” text to your mamma; or stop and take a moment to count your many blessings.  This life, it’s very short in the context of things. Try to take no one or no-thing for granted. 

In classes lately I have been playing a spoken-word version of the poem “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night.” It’s from the Interstellar soundtrack; and it’s lovely. 

Oh Mary, I shall miss your light. Though I know it will shine brightly for us in our dreams and meditations.  Om Shanti, Shanti, Shanti-h.

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

 

From The Poems of Dylan Thomas

Walk Unafraid

If you’ve read this blog over the years you will recall my son is quite the sage; his nickname from friends is Buddha Boy; incredible wisdom flows from his young heart.

Often my children introduce me to new music; and often, I introduce it to them. Recently the song “Walk Unafraid” has been rotating heavily through my playlist; lovely cover of the original 1998 REM song by the group First Aid Kit; it’s on the “Wild” movie soundtrack.

My son and I often connect with music; having the same favorites and style. And he’s been listening to this song as well; I’ve found him in his room on his recently acquired iPod, listening to it over and over.

Last night snuggling on the couch he inquired about the lyrics; I didn’t know some of them – a job for Google! So he looked them up and printed them off. Brought them over to me on the couch. “You want to sing it together?” he asked.

He just turned 12; sweet boy on the cusp of changing from a boy to man; so bittersweet and I know he’ll have to break himself free from me on some levels very soon. This is a moment I will cherish.

“Sure,” I responded, and so we settled in together; not quite hitting the notes perfectly; not quite ready for prime-time; but so beautiful; I never want to forget us singing together; reminding each other to walk unafraid.

So here are the lyrics.  Me and my son; probably some of you too; are walking into an a new and unknown phase of life filled with incredible changes.  I don’t know anyone who isn’t right now.  But perhaps these words from the song will help guide you on your way. Just like they are guiding us.

As the sun comes up

As the moon goes down
These heavy notions creep around
It makes me think, long ago

I was brought into this life

A little lamb, a little lamb
Courageous, stumbling
Fearless was my middle name

But somewhere there I lost my way

Everyone walks the same
Expecting me to step
The narrow path they've laid

They claim to

Walk unafraid
I'll be clumsy instead
Hold me, love me or leave me high

Say "keep within the boundaries if you want to play”

Say “contradiction only makes it harder”
How can I be
What I want to be?

When all I want to do is strip away

These stilled constraints
And crush this charade
Shred this sad masquerade

I don't need no persuading

I'll trip, fall, pick myself up and

Walk unafraid
I'll be clumsy instead
Hold me, love me or leave me high

If I have a bag of rocks to carry as I go

I just want to hold my head up high
I don't care what I have to step over
I'm prepared to look you in the eye

Look me in the eye

And if you see familiarity
Then celebrate the contradiction
Help me when I fall to

Walk unafraid

I'll be clumsy instead
Hold me, love me or leave me high

I will walk unafraid

I'll be clumsy instead
Hold me, love me or leave me high


Shanti,

Jill