Thank you for this, Adam. I also feel deeply the "desire to stop defending," and do my best to approach more and more closely to defenselessness in my dealings in life. We keep bees, and I do sell it for a set price, but I am always aware that the bees, who give their very lives to make the honey, ask nothing of me. I prioritize the bees' health and health of the land they feed on. I do give a lot of honey away, and any money "we make" goes back into equipment to keep bees better. I teach and I get paid a little for that, but we all know that teaching is a labor of love, and that teachers receive back from their students just as much as they give (if teachers are free to teach life-giving things). My wife is a minister, and so our household income is all gifted to us in a very real sense.. .and I feel connected to my church community and try to give gifts back and spread gifts around inspired by that.
This all sounds great, but then today walking on the street in Chicago a man asked me for a dollar and I refused, because I was in a hurry and in defense mode, and I only had a $10 and a $20. How stingy I can be, and how well-defended, despite my intent to do better!
It's a tricky thing, and it doesn't help one bit if you think that what you're doing is "better" than what others are doing. This is just more defense. Actually I find myself humbled more and more by how truly giving those around me are, as I keep trying to do it myself An embarrassment of riches, truly.
I barely go into the city, as I've never given money to a beggar either. I'd like to have them over to my house for supper, but it's so far away and I don't always have a quart of soup on my. You know how it goes. Thank you for these beautiful thoughts. I'll cherish these stories. Best, Adam
This is a new development: I am moved to tears by your request for a puff of acknowledgement/support, even before I’ve read this newest article.
Your work is SO valuable dear one: both the hard yards of hanging in there on the chilly land while fluffing up your local connections AND the effort of translating your experiences and insights into this inspirational poetry.
It goes far further than you can know: I am mentioning you to diverse like-minded people on this needy island.
Puffffffffff! There it is: I breathe my breath on your fire, so the embers at the cooling edges match the conflagration at your passionate centre. And I offer white spirit to the fire: spirit to honour the Spirit that kindles all.
I just walked up to the hill yesterday with a sleeping bag and pad. Down here, South Wind blew a steady, assertive breeze. Up there she ripped a full gale, and I was just warm enough to spend the night with the bag zipped up and cinched around my face. Thank you for your breath, Kathryn.
Beautiful, Adam. It is so good to hear that young people are hungry for the kind of lifestyle you represent. It certainly stirs me as an older person, alerting me to the many unconscious choices I've made over the years to transact rather than trust in relationship.
Adam, This was another excellent piece full of beautiful language and large ideas. I have been a gardener in small spaces since childhood. First lured to grow by the beauty of flowers and then on and on until my lust for plants taught me about soil and about forests and animals. I never dreamed that anyone would pay me to grow things, and when I married I was delighted that we were able to live modestly on his income and I could grow, cook, and tend without any time given to earning money. I knew that doing this would never be "cheaper" than buying veggies or fruit but I just loved it. Now, my love led me to learn about soil, and to collect seaweed in old bags, to beg neighbors for manure, to compost my own waste, and to stop landscapers for their woodchips or grass clippings. With all this work the amount I can grow is still not much for a family of 7. So I came to understand about ruminants and the amazing work they do. I'm reading about silvopasture and the way forests build soil. And all this has got us thinking that we should sell our home on 1 acre in a seaside resort area and go to a rural place where we can really grow some food and fully participate in the whole process. Where we live is where we grew up, we have connections and history here. We have been struggling for more than a year with questions about whether this is the right thing to do. We have actively protested the way that property values in our town have devastated the community because normal people can't afford to stay. So I've shared all this to let you know how much I can relate to what you write about, and how vital the questions you pose are. We decided to do it; we've found a small farm in Maine. We are preparing to depart. I still feel bad in some ways about "selling out" our local community. I also feel that "in love" feeling you describe and so grateful that we can choose this project and gift our kids this experience. We don't aim to sell food, but to earn enough money from my husbands work as an electrician and repairman to have the luxury of growing food and building community with others who do the same. I don't have a clear idea of how the food system could be fixed, how people could transform in the kinds of ways you imagine here. I'm not sure I fully understand your vision. But what you write is full of sparks that attract me. Hopefully you continue to have the energy and vision to move ahead with this work.
What a gorgeous note. That choice you had to make between your childhood town and the promise of land is one that's led me to where I am now. There are no clear answers here, just questions to wrestle with ongoingly, in conversation, with heartbreak always allowed a seat at the table. There will be no solving the mess that's come to pass, but there is still plenty of work worth doing. Best to you, Clara.
Thank you for this: I don’t know how it applies to me as a musician, but I sense it’s right, and that it’s prophetic. Those of us who own land, however, even a small plot, know what we need to do…
Hi Mark, Have you read Lewis Hyde's book, The Gift? If not, I think artists are well-served by Hyde's exploration of gift and the artist in a commercializing society. Food is a bit unique among the village crafts, but I do think that music fits in there, and I'll actually be talking with a funeral celebrant at the next Peasantry School Community Call who is experimenting with offering her services as a gift and asking to be sustained. If you're interested, you might find something there. The date for the call is 3/18 at 3pm EST, with details in next week's newsletter. I've just subscribed to your newsletter, and I look forward to learning of your work. Thanks for your note. Adam
I've been wondering how you're making out there in the tropics, Leon. We have and extremely early spring rolling in now. Ticks broke hibernation yesterday. Rhubarb is showing new growth. Usually we're under snow this week. Best, Adam
Those ticks don't sound fun. Our dry season has rolled in, our grass is looking very thin, so I'm rotating the Sunflower and Edna (cow and sheep) around quarters of the property every two weeks. They're still looking pretty fat though, must be all the tree forage and the bananas I give them. Everyone loves bananas Adam, everyone! Keeping my water tank full as everyone loves lighting fires to burn their trash and leaving it to smoulder. This might unfortunately be the season where they learn that it's not a good idea.... it's just too dry. All the best mate! Cheers, Leon
Thank you, Adam. What I think about as I read your piece is that it is relationship which brings what you are speaking about into being: relationship to place, to local community, to wider communities, and I guess to ourselves as well.
I think you've said it well. Imagining our safety net as the reliable affection of our neighbors, human and nonhuman, is quite the imaginal leap for those of us schooled into the hardened heart of modernity.
So beautiful and inspiring. Having left the confines of an organized religion a few years ago but not leaving my spirituality to another person’s care I am recklessly willing to hand my spirituality over to the land and give away what we create together. Giving away Food is the tie that binds us and is the deliverance from a greedy scarcity sickness that creeps over this time
Thanks for this, Tim. As you likely know, the Latin "spiritus" means simply breath, and it sounds like you and I both were granted breath today. What a miracle, eh?
I've been looking for ways to describe the Greek word pistis, which appears in Paul's letters as "faith" (a little banal). I found this essay the most beautiful image of the pistis concept. Relationships good enough to trust.
Gorgeous. I love the word faith, finding in it much more nourishment than the more popular "hope." Rather than hopeful I aspire to be faithful and therefore willing to proceed absent any certainties of outcome.
The story of your way into this defenseless place is hard to imagine along into from the tight rope walk that is capitalism, maybe because walking the earth is so far below walking that wire.
I have begun to try to imagine us finding a way to make our way down the ladder and onto the dirt.
We watch over a beautiful 20 acres that really should be back in the cycle of giving and recieving but its almost broke us commuting as a carpenter, touching all the waste and trees and such being funneled into unnecessary expanding human exclusivity to make money just so the bank can't take this land from us, as if either us or them as property owners is the only possible way to see it.
Gonna find a place to sit and do a stretch of days, meeting the land to listen for a while to try to reimagine things and see if the place itself might have an idea how to leave the wire.
You've got me thinking that what I'm talking about amounts to a form of social/civil disobedience. Non-violent direct action against the dictates of self-defended and money-accessed lifeways. Just like the protesters on the bridge at Selma, would the bank really evict you if you stopped paying and began feeding your neighbors instead, and then they all locked arms and resisted the police? It does make me smile imagining it.
Thank you for this, Adam. I also feel deeply the "desire to stop defending," and do my best to approach more and more closely to defenselessness in my dealings in life. We keep bees, and I do sell it for a set price, but I am always aware that the bees, who give their very lives to make the honey, ask nothing of me. I prioritize the bees' health and health of the land they feed on. I do give a lot of honey away, and any money "we make" goes back into equipment to keep bees better. I teach and I get paid a little for that, but we all know that teaching is a labor of love, and that teachers receive back from their students just as much as they give (if teachers are free to teach life-giving things). My wife is a minister, and so our household income is all gifted to us in a very real sense.. .and I feel connected to my church community and try to give gifts back and spread gifts around inspired by that.
This all sounds great, but then today walking on the street in Chicago a man asked me for a dollar and I refused, because I was in a hurry and in defense mode, and I only had a $10 and a $20. How stingy I can be, and how well-defended, despite my intent to do better!
It's a tricky thing, and it doesn't help one bit if you think that what you're doing is "better" than what others are doing. This is just more defense. Actually I find myself humbled more and more by how truly giving those around me are, as I keep trying to do it myself An embarrassment of riches, truly.
Brian,
I barely go into the city, as I've never given money to a beggar either. I'd like to have them over to my house for supper, but it's so far away and I don't always have a quart of soup on my. You know how it goes. Thank you for these beautiful thoughts. I'll cherish these stories. Best, Adam
This is a new development: I am moved to tears by your request for a puff of acknowledgement/support, even before I’ve read this newest article.
Your work is SO valuable dear one: both the hard yards of hanging in there on the chilly land while fluffing up your local connections AND the effort of translating your experiences and insights into this inspirational poetry.
It goes far further than you can know: I am mentioning you to diverse like-minded people on this needy island.
Puffffffffff! There it is: I breathe my breath on your fire, so the embers at the cooling edges match the conflagration at your passionate centre. And I offer white spirit to the fire: spirit to honour the Spirit that kindles all.
Kx
I just walked up to the hill yesterday with a sleeping bag and pad. Down here, South Wind blew a steady, assertive breeze. Up there she ripped a full gale, and I was just warm enough to spend the night with the bag zipped up and cinched around my face. Thank you for your breath, Kathryn.
Wonderful!
I love sleeping outside.
Happy March!
Beautiful, inspiring, thank you Adam.
From Lindy, NYC (hold the torch, we're coming)
The wind keeps blowing it out. Often times I feel like I'm groping in the dark.
Thank you, Lindy. Adam
Beautiful, Adam. It is so good to hear that young people are hungry for the kind of lifestyle you represent. It certainly stirs me as an older person, alerting me to the many unconscious choices I've made over the years to transact rather than trust in relationship.
Leanne, Thank you for your note. Your grief rings clear and clean. Best, Adam
Adam, This was another excellent piece full of beautiful language and large ideas. I have been a gardener in small spaces since childhood. First lured to grow by the beauty of flowers and then on and on until my lust for plants taught me about soil and about forests and animals. I never dreamed that anyone would pay me to grow things, and when I married I was delighted that we were able to live modestly on his income and I could grow, cook, and tend without any time given to earning money. I knew that doing this would never be "cheaper" than buying veggies or fruit but I just loved it. Now, my love led me to learn about soil, and to collect seaweed in old bags, to beg neighbors for manure, to compost my own waste, and to stop landscapers for their woodchips or grass clippings. With all this work the amount I can grow is still not much for a family of 7. So I came to understand about ruminants and the amazing work they do. I'm reading about silvopasture and the way forests build soil. And all this has got us thinking that we should sell our home on 1 acre in a seaside resort area and go to a rural place where we can really grow some food and fully participate in the whole process. Where we live is where we grew up, we have connections and history here. We have been struggling for more than a year with questions about whether this is the right thing to do. We have actively protested the way that property values in our town have devastated the community because normal people can't afford to stay. So I've shared all this to let you know how much I can relate to what you write about, and how vital the questions you pose are. We decided to do it; we've found a small farm in Maine. We are preparing to depart. I still feel bad in some ways about "selling out" our local community. I also feel that "in love" feeling you describe and so grateful that we can choose this project and gift our kids this experience. We don't aim to sell food, but to earn enough money from my husbands work as an electrician and repairman to have the luxury of growing food and building community with others who do the same. I don't have a clear idea of how the food system could be fixed, how people could transform in the kinds of ways you imagine here. I'm not sure I fully understand your vision. But what you write is full of sparks that attract me. Hopefully you continue to have the energy and vision to move ahead with this work.
Appreciatively,
Clara
What a gorgeous note. That choice you had to make between your childhood town and the promise of land is one that's led me to where I am now. There are no clear answers here, just questions to wrestle with ongoingly, in conversation, with heartbreak always allowed a seat at the table. There will be no solving the mess that's come to pass, but there is still plenty of work worth doing. Best to you, Clara.
Thank you for this: I don’t know how it applies to me as a musician, but I sense it’s right, and that it’s prophetic. Those of us who own land, however, even a small plot, know what we need to do…
Hi Mark, Have you read Lewis Hyde's book, The Gift? If not, I think artists are well-served by Hyde's exploration of gift and the artist in a commercializing society. Food is a bit unique among the village crafts, but I do think that music fits in there, and I'll actually be talking with a funeral celebrant at the next Peasantry School Community Call who is experimenting with offering her services as a gift and asking to be sustained. If you're interested, you might find something there. The date for the call is 3/18 at 3pm EST, with details in next week's newsletter. I've just subscribed to your newsletter, and I look forward to learning of your work. Thanks for your note. Adam
Thank you for the recommendation. I've not read it, but will do so and see what happens. And I will try to join the call on March 18th too....
Exquisite. Thank you, Adam.
Thank you, Carrie.
So much gold in this Adam. Needed this, this morning. Thank you
I've been wondering how you're making out there in the tropics, Leon. We have and extremely early spring rolling in now. Ticks broke hibernation yesterday. Rhubarb is showing new growth. Usually we're under snow this week. Best, Adam
Those ticks don't sound fun. Our dry season has rolled in, our grass is looking very thin, so I'm rotating the Sunflower and Edna (cow and sheep) around quarters of the property every two weeks. They're still looking pretty fat though, must be all the tree forage and the bananas I give them. Everyone loves bananas Adam, everyone! Keeping my water tank full as everyone loves lighting fires to burn their trash and leaving it to smoulder. This might unfortunately be the season where they learn that it's not a good idea.... it's just too dry. All the best mate! Cheers, Leon
Thank you, Adam. What I think about as I read your piece is that it is relationship which brings what you are speaking about into being: relationship to place, to local community, to wider communities, and I guess to ourselves as well.
I think you've said it well. Imagining our safety net as the reliable affection of our neighbors, human and nonhuman, is quite the imaginal leap for those of us schooled into the hardened heart of modernity.
So beautiful and inspiring. Having left the confines of an organized religion a few years ago but not leaving my spirituality to another person’s care I am recklessly willing to hand my spirituality over to the land and give away what we create together. Giving away Food is the tie that binds us and is the deliverance from a greedy scarcity sickness that creeps over this time
Thanks for this, Tim. As you likely know, the Latin "spiritus" means simply breath, and it sounds like you and I both were granted breath today. What a miracle, eh?
Sure is.
This is wonderful, thank you Adam
Thank you, David.
I've been looking for ways to describe the Greek word pistis, which appears in Paul's letters as "faith" (a little banal). I found this essay the most beautiful image of the pistis concept. Relationships good enough to trust.
Gorgeous. I love the word faith, finding in it much more nourishment than the more popular "hope." Rather than hopeful I aspire to be faithful and therefore willing to proceed absent any certainties of outcome.
The story of your way into this defenseless place is hard to imagine along into from the tight rope walk that is capitalism, maybe because walking the earth is so far below walking that wire.
I have begun to try to imagine us finding a way to make our way down the ladder and onto the dirt.
We watch over a beautiful 20 acres that really should be back in the cycle of giving and recieving but its almost broke us commuting as a carpenter, touching all the waste and trees and such being funneled into unnecessary expanding human exclusivity to make money just so the bank can't take this land from us, as if either us or them as property owners is the only possible way to see it.
Gonna find a place to sit and do a stretch of days, meeting the land to listen for a while to try to reimagine things and see if the place itself might have an idea how to leave the wire.
I am glad you are here, doing this Adam. Thanks.
You've got me thinking that what I'm talking about amounts to a form of social/civil disobedience. Non-violent direct action against the dictates of self-defended and money-accessed lifeways. Just like the protesters on the bridge at Selma, would the bank really evict you if you stopped paying and began feeding your neighbors instead, and then they all locked arms and resisted the police? It does make me smile imagining it.