Tag Archives: spirituality

Thursday Morning Ramblings

I’d like to take a moment to thank the people who have made donations to the farm so far:

Joel Gates of Green Gates Entertainment
J. L. Mulvihill, author of The Lost Daughter of Easa
Richard Phinney, journalist and documentary producer/director
Joy Shelton, WSCC student and hectic mother of four
And also one anonymous donation.

These people are forever etched onto my list of cool people, and I want to send out a heartfelt thank you to each one.

 

Wednesday Afternoon Ramblings

Our first order of seeds arrived in the mail yesterday.  I had purposefully ordered them early to make sure we had them on hand when the first unit is operational.  I was afraid that if I waited the store might be sold out of the particular varieties we want to grow, and then I also didn’t want to have to wait for shipping once we are ready to start our seedlings.  So we have seeds available once the unit is close to ready.  There’s something about a seed that inspires hope.  From that small kernel life abounds, both literally and metaphorically.

Along those lines, my good friend Jim Gavin, who I hold in high regard, provided the farm a plug on Facebook a day or two ago but added a caveat that he didn’t like my use of the words “organic” and “sustainable” because of the political baggage they connote.  So with respect to Jim and others who might feel likewise (I’m glancing at you Todd Wright and Scott McNabb), please allow me the opportunity to explain my understanding of those words and why they are central to the business model of the farm.

When I was an undergraduate, one of the most beneficial courses I took was Economic Geography.  Literally, I was the only Liberal Arts major in the class, but the instructor was a brilliant man who knew his subject, and to this day, I remember some of the principles he espoused unit to unit.  One of those was the idea of spatial economics.  That might not be the technical term, but the concept is that the more distance between two economic entities, the less often they are able to conduct business because of time and cost.  For many decades, cheap fuel and transportation made that concept seem obsolete, but now, as fuel prices continue to climb, the concept of spatial economics is once again becoming prevalent.  Our current economic model for food production is unsustainable because in purely economic terms the costs of fuel are making it too expensive.  Also, the use of chemically-based pesticides, herbicides, and fertilizers is unsustainable because of the long-term harmful effects of these products on the soil, the groundwater, and the food itself.  Additionally, because of overpopulation, our current methods of farming must change because very soon there will not be enough fresh water available to continue our current patterns of irrigation.

These are the primary reasons why I use the term “sustainable” for our method of farming.  Organic hydroponic farming does not use chemical agents and requires only 10% of the water necessary for traditional soil-based farming.  Also, because it is on a local level, the model requires much less fuel consumption, which ultimately will lead to lower prices.  On a practical, economic level, this form of farming is the future because it provides a higher yield per acre and doesn’t damage its own growing medium.  Whether you believe any of these concepts is your choice, but I do believe them, and I believe that if we continue moving forward in our current manner, we as a species will become the perpetrators of our own extinction.  But I also believe we are intelligent enough to change our ways, come back into harmony with the environment, and still live in a democratic republic based on a capitalist economy.  That is my seed of hope.

Friday Morning Ramblings

Writing has always been my best way to make sense of myself and the world around me, so this entry will probably be a very rambling “Rambling.”  It’s no secret that losing my children is probably the deepest wound I carry, and that pain affects me in just about every aspect of my life.  Each time I see my sons, I have to relive that first separation, the day when I dropped them off with my ex-mother-in-law (a woman who still considers me her son and whom I still consider a second mom).  That day is the darkest and most painful moment of my life.  Every atom of every cell in every part of my being was screaming for me not to walk away from my children, and my heart literally felt as if it was going to explode through my sternum it was pounding so hard, despite the fact that I had taken a strong dose of Valium.  A part of my soul died that day, and only other people who have experienced something similar can relate to it.  Every time I have to leave my children now, I relive that day, and it messes me up for some time after.

The difficulty is that I need to see Collin and Finn as often as possible, not just for my well-being, but so that they will know in their hearts that their Daddy loves them and is there for them.  It’s truly a hellish situation, needing to see them but then enduring the separation again.  I try to deal with it, but the pain is like a tidal wave that washes over me and overwhelms everything else.  I wish I could simply choke it down and suppress the feeling, but it’s simply too enormous for that.  The short-term effect is that the way I’ve always dealt with my issues is to retreat into my shell, lick my wounds, and then re-emerge when I feel better.

I’m trying to deal with this issue.  I’ve gone to counseling, meditated about it, begged god to take it away, cried until my pillow was soaked, buried myself in physical labor, written about it, and pondered it a million times, but letting go of that pain and that moment eludes me.  There is not a second of my life that I don’t miss my children.  Sometimes, I wake up in the middle of the night, terrified because I can’t see with my own eyes that they are safe and sound.  Sometimes, I’ll see good parenting out in public, and the sorrow of missing them drowns me.  Sometimes, I’ll see bad parenting and feel even more sorrow.  I try every single day to live my life in the here and now because that is the lesson I learned from my accident, but there is a part of me that is stuck on that day January 5, 2008 when a piece of my soul withered up and died.  I don’t know how to let go of that, but I know without a doubt that if I don’t find a way to move on, I will never be able to live my life fully, and I will never be a whole person capable of loving those around me the way they deserve to be loved.

So that’s my burden I need to resolve.  That’s the splinter in my heart that gnaws from the inside.  I don’t just want to heal from this; I have to, if I ever want to have any hope of finding peace and serenity in my life and of having a balanced, healthy relationship.