Reflections on a Changing World

Image credit: The Subversive Lens Facebook page. I just became aware of this writer.

Back in March, when the idea of what a pandemic meant hadn't yet sunk into my consciousness, I was afraid of what I didn't understand. It has been my nature to believe that things will work out well, to avoid disturbing news and at the same time to feel responsible for everything and fear anything I couldn't control. Needless to say, it was a difficult balancing act. 

When I began to grasp the pandemic's enormity, I fluctuated between feeling like self-isolating was really not much different than the way I had chosen to live and a total, all-encompasing fear. I had always lived simply and privately so self-isolating wasn't going to be hard. But it was. I was afraid of so many things that not knowing "the answer" on any subject about how to live through the pandemic was paralyzing. Now, more than three months into things, my anxiety has receded, replaced with a growing bit of resolve. I am grateful for my familiar way of life even with its new restrictions. 

This time of Mother Nature firmly kicking our global butts with a pandemic has caused the fragile systems that were holding us together as a country to fray alarmingly. Political systems, health systems, racial inequity, climate change, economic inequity, social support systems, educational systems and more, each in need of attention and overhaul. And the timetable of need so out of sync with the timetable of the possible. Yet, what else is there to do but to press on? Giving up is not an option although getting tired is guaranteed. 

I don't presume to have "answers." At the same time my North star remains a future that is fair, healthy and sustainable. Maybe I'm asking for too much, but maybe we - all of us - haven't expected enough of ourselves in the past. Maybe we've waited quietly for others to fix problems we saw. Or looked away when seeing was inconvenient or disturbing. For sure everyone can't do everything, but each of us can learn more about existing problems and engage more to better the situation. Some changes may come in bursts, others may be incremental. All contribute to moving along the path to that North star. Yes, it's going to be exhausting.

A bias for action...

Ruminate's co-hosts for their Midwest launch. Image thanks to Ruminate's Facebook page.

There is a new, national not-for-profit organization uniting diverse change makers and food-focused professionals to convene, discuss, and ideate change in our food system. They are launching their Midwest efforts in my backyard. Ruminate considers itself "part think tank, part innovation lab" and is hosting three, hands-on working sessions for food system professionals in Grand Rapids, starting in June. For people ready to put talk into action. 

These two-hour events are intentionally designed, solutions-oriented sessions. Attendees will tackle intractable food system issues. In these Ripe for Discussion sessions everyday leaders can roll up their sleeves, dig in and build immediately-actionable change. The will cover: 

• Building connections between producers and plates - June 23, 2019
• The true cost of food and consumer knowledge - August 18, 2019
• Who is responsible for balanced nutrition? - November 10, 2019

Talking is important for sure. But without action nothing changes.

Photo credit: lifehacker.com.au

Time Off for Thinking

It's been quite a long time since I've posted anything. I've been stuck. Trying to figure out which way to turn and what's next in this life. Having rebooted and redefined myself multiple times, each time thinking it's the last, it's rather surprising to find that I'm about to do it again. But that's what's on the horizon. After fruitlessly trying to hide from Life V. 11.0 - yes, when I sat down and figured it out it will be the eleventh time I've picked up and started over in some way - I am now, as they say, "leaning in."

While I don't know what this version is going to be just yet, I can only say that it feels good to claim it. And I'm looking forward to discovering where this new journey leads. More later.

November 10, 2016

This little, very occasional blog is going dark. At least for a while.

It's gotten longer and longer between posts. There are certainly still things to write about. And my interests haven't changed all that much, so the topics are still possible. But for the moment other things feel more pressing, more necessary to do. So they are where I'll spend my time.

Maybe somewhere down the road I'll pass by again and pick up where I left off. Maybe this branch in the road won't circle back. Whatever happens, the fork in the road calls.

Today at the grocery

I am in the middle of a mindfulness workshop. At week four of an eight-week class intended to help me be more present in the "now." Doing so, I'm told, reduces stress, and as a result, improves health, as well as allows one to see things more clearly, without emotion or attachment to a specific outcome. Part of the practice is to observe how you react - not seek to change or judge - just observe. So I did.

Today I went to the grocery. It has been so cold and snowy that this was the first day I considered it. It was clear and cold with slushy, sandy, salty uck everywhere. Outside and in. Inevitable.

While shopping I came around the end of an aisle to see a young - perhaps six or seven-year-old - boy running toward me. He was bundled up in a snowsuit against the cold. Perhaps to distract him from being indoors in outdoors clothes or for another reason entirely he was eating a slice of processed cheese food. It was bunched up in one hand as he ran. But it was obvious that it was that product that comes wrapped in plastic, slice by slice. He was running to (I assume) catch up with whomever he was there with. Maybe he dawdled in front of the Fruit Loops too long, but he was on a tear. When dodging a shopper, he dropped he cheese on the floor.

(I could stop here, but I won't.)

He stopped in his tracks and without missing a beat, picked up the cheese, took a bite and started running again. He disappeared around the corner.


That was my observation. My reaction - even though I wasn't supposed to have one - had several levels...

(Level 1) YUCK!

(Level 2) Why would a child eat off a floor covered with slushy, sandy, salty uck? Where was the adult supervision?

(Level 3) It's bad enough that the child is eating processed food, but from the floor!?

There was a time that I or another adult who saw what was about to happen would have stepped in to stop it. And the parent or other adult with that child would have thanked the person intervening.  Isn't that as bad for society as it is for the child? Not even considering the pros/cons of processed food.

So, the connection back to mindfulness? I'm struggling with that. It appears that the child wasn't mindful of his action, but he's a child. At what point is it reasonable to expect that?

The adult that I assume was somewhere nearby was perhaps being as mindful as they could be - providing cheese rather than sugar - trying to deal with many things simultaneously.  Maybe they would have quickly snatched that cheese away before the bite could be taken if they had only seen it.

But the intervention of the past...what about that? What happened to "it takes a village to raise a child" and the assumption of good intent when others took a person's child in hand? The assumption of shared values about basic things like looking out for a child's welfare? Were past interventions really mindful or reactive? Does it matter if the intent is to stop a a child from eating something from a really dirty floor? Why do "good Samaritans" need laws to protect them?

I have so many questions...maybe there are satisfying answers out there. I hope so.

Investing Locally

 
I recently took a step to put my money where my mouth is.

The idea of bringing money (investments) back to the local community has appealed to me for a while. Being able to know the people who are using my money and having a first-hand understanding of what it is that they are doing with it is appealing. As is the idea that my money is actually going toward something that will take root where I live, rather than in some unknown and unknowable place because that's where the fund advisers decided to invest. No, the idea of direct investment had appeal. But I hadn't done anything to really act on the concept til recently.

Perhaps to chagrin of my financial adviser, I "liberated" a portion (perhaps the first of many...) of my funds from traditional investment vehicles and they now sit ready to invest in local enterprises. But how do I find out about and choose the investments?

That's still a bit of a challenge, but it's getting easier all the time. Currently I check in on a website called LocalStake.com where there are all manner of local investment opportunities. Many related to local food and beverages. And they are true investments not donations. For the moment, "local" is a bit of a stretch but at least the options are in the midwest rather than somewhere on the other side of the globe. And over time as more people know about the site and more businesses are funded, my hope is that more will appear as opportunities.

Will I make a fortune doing this? I doubt it. I don't even think that's the question that needs to be asked. The question that needs to be asked is: what does it take to reclaim control of what I eat and drink? To know how it was made, what's in it and what's behind it? If I can know these things and get good products from the companies I'm funding, along with a fair return (financial and social), then these are sound investments and ones I'll be committed to for the long haul.

Change

From my LinkedIn feed. I didn't catch where it came from or I'd credit it. 

Yesterday's pop up poster show about sustainable agriculture and the food system (continuing today, noon to 6pm at Journeyman Distillery in Three Oaks, MI) was an interesting experience and possibly an experiment. First, there was a lot of positive feedback from guests, from the manager of the venue and from the people who took time out of their days to be "resources"and provide deeper information to people who stopped to chat and learn. Second, the conversations that took place not only exchanged information, but a type of energy flowed as well.

Like all manner of conferences, workshops, seminars, networking events, etc., although the participants may truly value the information they exchanged, the new connections they made, or the affirmation they received of their own current efforts, the most valuable thing that gets taken away is the energy. Whether invigoration and motivation of the newly interested  or re-invigoration and re-motivation of those who may have long been involved in trying to make a change, the energy is the thing.

However energy is a asset that can deplete quickly if not replenished occasionally. Of course "wins" help boost energy, but the need is greater when faced with disappointment, failure and frustration. It's easy to get focused on how big the problem is, how intransigent, how deeply rooted. So rather than let energy seep away in the face of those things, consciously choose to re-energize. Events like this show can boost your energy and ready you for continued action. Or if you are already energized, it's a place where you may inspire someone on the fence...or on the other side of it entirely. Come on down.

Pop up poster show - Day 2

The first seasonal (Fall) show of Lexicon of Sustainability posters ended and quietly disappeared, leaving no physical trace of its presence. No trash. No damage. A simple end.

However it did leave some things behind. It left an energy behind to continue lots of conversations with new connections. And it left other people with next steps for projects in their backyards that promote local, sustainable food. And too, it sparked ideas for how people could work together to get more done collaboratively than they could alone, all without reinventing wheels. The two-day show was a start. It's up to everyone to keep the momentum going.

Watch the Art of Sustainability Facebook page for information on where you can see more posters at the Winter Pop Up Show.

Getting involved

My involvement in organizations and issues seems to go in cycles. Not involved at all. Then up to my eyeballs in involvement. Then not involved again, either from burn out, disillusionment or other circumstance. Back and forth I go.

My involvement started out serving on the allocations committee of a United Way in a small town after college. After that, I had my foray into the arts, serving as a volunteer and a board member of Chicago's Business Volunteer's for the Arts. Then I left that and was uninvolved. During that time away, I concluded that I needed to be more serious, more socially conscious than just trying to have fun. So when I returned, it was to serve on the board of a nearly 100-year-old social service agency. After  nearly a decade there, I was on hiatus again, until, bored with nothing to do, I served on the board of a not-for-profit (that's important in my opinion!) hospice.

My move to Michigan has seen me involved with a start up not-for-profit to support local agriculture, a community arts council, a start up that seemed destined to promote local food in a hands-on way, and a little time spent helping a community garden get going. Now again, I am a bit at loose ends.

But my travels through these organizations and their issues have taught me several things. And admittedly, life experience has taught me too. I've learned:

• My interests are varied but in all cases there is an element of creativity that I need to be able to exercise in my involvement. Doing tasks is NOT beneath me and I have done them and will do more. Yet, I am at my best when I am creating.
• The issues that draw me and continue to hold me include an element of righting what I consider to be wrongs. Whether it is providing support for people to die with dignity rather than being poked, prodded and "treated" into the afterlife or moving dirt to fill garden beds to create a place where good, healthy food can be grown and children can learn what my parents knew about caring for the land. My activities include a thread of what might be called "social justice." 

So what to do with those loose ends. The answer has begun to present itself over the last several months. As I have changed how I think about things, the things I think about have changed. I have grown into the next morph of myself and this version has left behind (finally, whew!) the self-image of the corporate person I was "supposed to be" and is re-inhabiting the persona who waited patiently deep inside. That person grew up next to the dairy farm, warmed by the sun and simple pleasures. It is a life that may not be possible in the future, but one I think worthy of attempting to promote and save. Having the choice, not being forced into a life that doesn't fit is so important to me. It's my version of independence.  Thus the loose ends have begun to resolve by committing to continue writing. And voila...magically I find myself writing (at least occasionally) for a new publication, Edible Michiana. I've also committed over the past few years to fight for the right to grow/produce and have access to good, healthy food, not be limited to what a large multi-national corporation tells me is "good for me." Poof! Here I am in conversation with two organizations Slow Food and Slow Money about starting chapters right here where I live. 

If the ideas of Slow Money and/or Slow Food interest you and you are nearby, please let me know. The more the merrier - and potentially the more potent. Or if you aren't nearby, you may have (or could start) groups in your area. But even if these aren't things that quicken your heart, surely there is something that brings you joy and satisfaction beyond what you do for pay. Do it. Don't wait. And if you find it loses its appeal and it can't be regained, move on. Look around. I truly believe that is what life is for - to express who you are at your deepest core through what you do and to support the community you are part of.