Three's Company (Monday, November 28th)

I had the honor to spend last week with Brian Baker and Brian Bielen, two of my very closest friends from Montana, in what turned out to be one of the most memorable and enjoyable weeks of my life. On the surface, this was a week spent hiking the trails of Southern Utah, exploring the treasures of hidden spur-canyons, chatting late into the night around a warm fire, and eating delicious meals of fresh venison and homegrown potatoes. But underneath, this was a week that taught me a lot about the importance of friendship, the beauty of companionship, and the constant struggle for personal integrity.

(I know. I know. It seems like every day is a life lesson and every experience brings some epic epiphany. It is what it is. So we'll continue...)

I am so grateful to have had the chance to share this enchanting place with two people like Brian and Brian: two people who truly love the outdoors, who are always looking for an adventure, who participate on a daily basis with the world around them, and who appreciate the beauty and silence of the desert. I experienced this place much differently with them than I would have on my own. Neither better nor worse--just differently. Their keen eyes allowed me to focus on details I would have otherwise brushed over--the patterns of colors and lines in rock walls and the curvature and texture of the soft sand and unique pebbles. Their curious natures allowed for us to explore unmarked canyons and unveil the secret hiding places of ancient granaries and villages. Together, we were kids again--asking the unanswerable questions, noticing the smallest details, immersing ourselves into this big unknown world, and laughing until we couldn't breath.

Spending this time with them also gave me the chance to test some of the personal theories and positions that I had been developing over the past few weeks. If my new perspectives were truly genuine, then I would have to maintain them while remaining comfortable and confident around the people that I care about most. If they accept me, and most importantly if I accept me, then the quality is worth embodying and strengthening. So I was able to test some things out: staying slow and being present while power-hiking at top speeds through a canyon, looking inwardly at ones own perfections and imperfections before looking outwardly at the qualities of others, being humbled by a world so big that neither you nor your friends can grasp it, and coming to understand that true freedom comes from that humility.

So here's the "A-ha moment." Let's skip the long explanation and go straight to what I know. Happiness, as well as the answers to life's great questions, comes from inside an individual. I hold my key, just as you hold yours. I need me--truly present and fully aware--I need me. However, we often need others to spark us, to share with us what they have already discovered, and to pull those mysteries out from deep within us. We need others. My search for community, for understanding, and for commonality is not a weakness, but a strength. I need others. And that's humbling. I wonder, then, if maybe true freedom will come from that humility as well...

The Farm Tour: Three farms in two weeks (Saturday, November 19th)

Networking. Networking. Job security. Get yourself out there. Make connections. Business cards. Resumes. Applications. Charm them. Smile more. Chin up. Work harder. Make them want you. Networking. Networking.

 

Don't worry. It's not like that. Not entirely, at least. From the moment I started planning this trip, I knew I wanted to supplement my hiking and exploring with farmwork and manual labor. I wanted to begin to immerse myself into the ever-growing network of local, organic farms; I wanted to meet farmers, have conversations, learn individual techniques, and see how different people are responding to current conditions. Logistically, I wanted to stay fresh and healthy throughout my travels; I wanted my body to maintain its strength and stamina, and I wanted to continue to have a supply of local, organic food. And of course, I wanted to introduce myself to southwestern farmers so when my job in Tuscon is finished, I will have plenty of nearby, quality internship opportunities.

 

Okay, it's networking. But it is networking in the most enjoyable, fulfilling, beautiful way.

 

Even though I only spent a few days at each farm, I still learned so much--both technically and philisophically. At each place, I participated in the daily routines--milking the goats and processing the milk into cheese and yogurt, weeding and watering the gardens, feeding the chickens and cleaning the coup, cooking and sharing meals with the families. Moreover, because I visited these places in the off-season, I was able to participate in the end-of-season rituals--chopping wood for winter, packing the root cellar, collecting and storing the watering lines, building and reparing green houses. I guess it didn't really surprise me to see how different each of these three farms was. Each farmer was his own character--from idealistic hippy to retired construction worker--and each farm had a different relationship with the surrounding commmunity--from a communal space of sharing and growth to a protected safe-haven against angry conservative neighbors who think environmentalists are destroying the country and ruining the economy. And yet, each farm had a similar thread, a thread that I have seen at each farm I have ever known, and a thread that still shocks and amazes me each time. Farmers are brilliant, well-rounded, remarkably proficient individuals. Not only are they animal caretakers and master growers, but also they are contractors, mechanics, plumbers, electritions, marketers, businessmen, community leaders, philosophers, and economists. They do it all. They do it all because they have to. I'll get there, but I have a lot to learn.

 

Apart from the technical skills and the nit-picky specifics, the philisophy of farming  is--in and of itself--its own subject to master. Farmers see the world differently. I don't yet fully understand it, and I don't expect to be able to fully explain it. As caretakers of the earth and providers for their communities, they have their own set of values and priorities. Time and space take on a quality of their own; farmers work in seasonal cycles yet their timeline expands accross generations; they focus on the mundane details of the field yet they are always aware of their inextricable connection to the rest of the world. Success and failure are defined on their own set of terms. The act of daily work helps to achieve a degree of physical, emotional, and intellectual enlightenment. And at the end of the day--no matter how politically involved a farmer may be, no matter how much he cares for his community, no matter how much he thinks he can change the world--all a farmer can do is live his life the best way he knows. He is the change he wishes to see.

 

For me, my time spent on these few farms has reassured me that I am exactly where I need to be. It fits so perfectly. Like a farmer, I find joy and fulfillment in any form of physical and mental labor. For me, that is the purest form of fun. As a farmer, your work is your play. In fact, your work time is your personal time. Your life becomes seemless. There is no difference between the working businessman and the at-home caretaker. You are everything. All the time. All at once. So you better love what you do--fully and completely--or you'll never make it. You must find wonder in all the details. You must pay attention. Constantly. Because there are no problems. There are only solutions. Create your perfection. It's not easy. I know this. But it's a fight worth joining and a life worth living. If not me, who? And if not now, when? (Sidenote: that's 2 MLK Jr. quotes in one blog).

 

And that's what I'm doing. Networking. Networking. Job security. Get yourself out there. Make connections. Business cards. Resumes. Applications. Charm them. Smile more. Chin up. Work harder. Make them want you. Networking. Networking

 

Or something like that.