Epiphany
Have you ever been so preoccupied with a subject that you can't talk about it, even though it's not the slightest bit embarrassing or hurtful? The subject is simply too overwhelming. You're not sure how to make sense of all that you know, and you for sure wouldn't know where to start in talking to someone else about what you know. It's an important subject, but you can't even find a label that fits.
Then you read something relevant that is so absolutely brilliant you know that you must understand this viewpoint if you hope to ever be able to corral the fragmented thoughts racing around inside your mind. So you read and observe and think and review. And finally, one day, it comes together and spills itself out in words. From that point on, minor adjustments may be necessary, but you feel a sense of certainty about the subject that no one can ever take away. It's as if what you've been absorbing and observing for years--all of it has waited for this moment, when it fits together.
Ever since I wrote about Monsanto and then subsequently watched an online 8-part documentary about the company, I've been waking up early. But I've not really been thinking about Monsanto (although it's probably good I wrote about Monsanto before I saw the documentary. It might not have been printable afterward.).
Instead I've been thinking about food security--not really worried about my situation, which seems as secure as anyone's can be. But I recognize that, for some, desperation is a constant companion, and for many, it waits just on the other side of a thin curtain. I'm concerned about such people.
In our part of the world, I ponder how it is that many people consume a surfeit of calories and are still undernourished.
Why can American farmers who grow enough to feed 140 people often not make a decent living doing so, unless they rely heavily on government subsidies?
Why is the countryside emptying out, while congestion grows in the cities?
Why did we ever think it made sense to remove limits to trade across national borders, but we've put barriers in place to make it impossible for a farmer to legally smoke a ham from a pig he's grown and butchered, and sell it to his neighbor?
How does a Christian farmer or homemaker or gardener think about food security? Is it all about maximizing production? More about treading lightly on our land so it will still be productive in the future? Giving up on getting our nutrients from real food in favor of scientifically calibrated supplements?
Is the process of growing our own food important, beyond our immediate need for what is produced? For example, is it important to do it so that we remember how, in case some day other ways of eating well are not available to us? Japan heavily subsidizes the production of rice, even though they could import it for less money than it takes to grow it. They do so because the memory of WWII is still fresh in their minds, when trade was impossible, and people suffered from food shortages. Like Scarlet O'Hara, they're not planning to be hungry (for rice) ever again. Are they being wise or ridiculous?
How should a nutrition class teacher teach the class? Is cooking the place to start? Smart shopping? Growing food and preserving it? Learning about how food affects health? How transportation, growing conditions, timing of harvest, and processing and preparation affect nutrients in food?
What kind of growing, processing, and distribution systems make possible the production, delivery, and consumption of nutritious food? Does government have a role in assuring that people are well nourished? Do individual companies have a responsibility? Communities? What about church groups? Individuals? Me, specifically.
I'm sure it's obvious that I'm still waiting for my epiphany on the subject of food security. I've found a piece of writing that is absolutely brilliant and I'm trying to absorb it. Parts of the picture are coming into focus. And I know that life will go on much as it always has whether or not I ever figure some of these things out. But for now, for reasons I don't fully understand, I'm driven to seek insight and a clear path ahead, for myself and for those I care about and am responsible for.
I fully expect that the experience of heaven will be one eternally satisfying epiphany--when all sorts of things will become clear. For now, I'd be willing to settle for the epiphany window to open just a crack on this food security issue. If you have something to shout or whisper through the crack--I'm all ears.
Then you read something relevant that is so absolutely brilliant you know that you must understand this viewpoint if you hope to ever be able to corral the fragmented thoughts racing around inside your mind. So you read and observe and think and review. And finally, one day, it comes together and spills itself out in words. From that point on, minor adjustments may be necessary, but you feel a sense of certainty about the subject that no one can ever take away. It's as if what you've been absorbing and observing for years--all of it has waited for this moment, when it fits together.
Ever since I wrote about Monsanto and then subsequently watched an online 8-part documentary about the company, I've been waking up early. But I've not really been thinking about Monsanto (although it's probably good I wrote about Monsanto before I saw the documentary. It might not have been printable afterward.).
Instead I've been thinking about food security--not really worried about my situation, which seems as secure as anyone's can be. But I recognize that, for some, desperation is a constant companion, and for many, it waits just on the other side of a thin curtain. I'm concerned about such people.
In our part of the world, I ponder how it is that many people consume a surfeit of calories and are still undernourished.
Why can American farmers who grow enough to feed 140 people often not make a decent living doing so, unless they rely heavily on government subsidies?
Why is the countryside emptying out, while congestion grows in the cities?
Why did we ever think it made sense to remove limits to trade across national borders, but we've put barriers in place to make it impossible for a farmer to legally smoke a ham from a pig he's grown and butchered, and sell it to his neighbor?
How does a Christian farmer or homemaker or gardener think about food security? Is it all about maximizing production? More about treading lightly on our land so it will still be productive in the future? Giving up on getting our nutrients from real food in favor of scientifically calibrated supplements?
Is the process of growing our own food important, beyond our immediate need for what is produced? For example, is it important to do it so that we remember how, in case some day other ways of eating well are not available to us? Japan heavily subsidizes the production of rice, even though they could import it for less money than it takes to grow it. They do so because the memory of WWII is still fresh in their minds, when trade was impossible, and people suffered from food shortages. Like Scarlet O'Hara, they're not planning to be hungry (for rice) ever again. Are they being wise or ridiculous?
How should a nutrition class teacher teach the class? Is cooking the place to start? Smart shopping? Growing food and preserving it? Learning about how food affects health? How transportation, growing conditions, timing of harvest, and processing and preparation affect nutrients in food?
What kind of growing, processing, and distribution systems make possible the production, delivery, and consumption of nutritious food? Does government have a role in assuring that people are well nourished? Do individual companies have a responsibility? Communities? What about church groups? Individuals? Me, specifically.
I'm sure it's obvious that I'm still waiting for my epiphany on the subject of food security. I've found a piece of writing that is absolutely brilliant and I'm trying to absorb it. Parts of the picture are coming into focus. And I know that life will go on much as it always has whether or not I ever figure some of these things out. But for now, for reasons I don't fully understand, I'm driven to seek insight and a clear path ahead, for myself and for those I care about and am responsible for.
I fully expect that the experience of heaven will be one eternally satisfying epiphany--when all sorts of things will become clear. For now, I'd be willing to settle for the epiphany window to open just a crack on this food security issue. If you have something to shout or whisper through the crack--I'm all ears.
posted by Mrs. I at
7:52 PM
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