Today we welcome back Rev. Elaine Breckenridge as our guest writer. Elaine shares her journey of change in the food she eats, where she purchases that food, and the difference these changes are making in her life.
One of my earliest memories as a child was the day my parents brought home our family’s first black and white television set and five TV dinner tray tables. My mother “prepared” a Swanson’s frozen dinner for each of us. The five of us huddled in a semi-circle with our own pre-packaged dinner at our own little table watching The Lawrence Welk show. Because my mother worked full time as a registered nurse in hospitals (which included working both swing and night shifts), I grew up having many meals that were boiled in a bag or microwaved in an oven. As an adult, I did practice some cooking, but I often took shortcuts buying the pre-cooked deli chicken, salad in a bag, and pre-chopped vegetables. Without realizing it, I had become an industrial eater. To use the words of Wendell Berry:
“The industrial eater is, in fact, one who does not know that eating is an agricultural act and who no longer knows or imagines the connections between eating and the land and who is therefore necessarily passive and uncritical—in short a victim.” (Food and Faith, edited & compiled by Michael Schut)
A shift in my shopping and eating patterns began when I retired in the early spring of 2019 and moved from California and a decades-long urban lifestyle to an island in the Pacific Northwest named Camano. I was drawn by the beauty of the area and by my adult children who are farmers there. As I surveyed the home options, I soon discovered that the kitchen sinks did not come with garbage disposals. Welcome to the world of living with septic systems and wells! I had never lived without a garbage disposal, even in my most primitive post-college day apartments. The prospect was unpleasant. And, I did not want to begin composting.
Fortunately, one of my sons offered an alternative. He lives on a working farm just 20 minutes away, and that first spring he gave me a chicken bucket. I began depositing all of our food scraps into the bucket which he then shared with the chickens. In exchange, I got their eggs. The chickens love my food waste and I love their eggs. Good trade!
Thus began my awakening. I was not only eating food sourced from local farmers, I was feeding the local sources. What an amazing lifestyle change. And that was just the beginning. Spring passed into summer and I went to my first Friday Farmer’s Market. There was a learning curve involved in shopping at an agricultural outdoor market.
I recognized only a few vegetables, most notably carrots and broccoli. That statement speaks for itself! There were kales (gee, there is more than one variety?), Swiss chard, and other greens, herbs I had never tasted before like lemon balm and fennel. They were all new delights for my inexperienced palate. The summer blossomed with a variety of squashes I had never seen or tasted. And the tomatoes! I had never eaten a farm-fresh tomato with farm-grown fresh basil and oregano until that first summer.
Going to buy food at a farmer’s market is very different from shopping at a grocery story. Unlike the mundane practice of lining up in an indoor grocery store, there is no toe-tapping of anxious people waiting their turn. You don’t see nervous shoppers pulling out of one check-out stand as they try to find a shorter line and a faster checker. No, people wait patiently to be served, often visiting with others in line. They are smiling and relaxed, anticipating the moment to select their fruits, vegetables, and flower bouquets. The local community has come together for their communion with the farmers, the food, and one another. The mundane practice of buying food has been transformed into a weekly sacred ritual.
How beautiful it is, that here in this community, people come together to receive their sustenance—home-grown food and products. In doing so, we support the local farmers and we support our health with fine fruits and vegetables. Troy grows the best peaches I have ever had in my life. Susan’s berries are sweet and popular. Rachel runs a farm stand where I shop in between the Friday markets.
When shopping in grocery store chains, I have never had these kinds of relationships with people who provide food for me. Our farmer’s market community is not unlike the ancient Celtic and Benedictine monasteries in this sharing of the sacraments of the Earth and our stewardship of support for those who work so hard to make sure that we are well fed. And we are also supporting the well-being of the Earth, because I know that the farmers in my area use best practices.
Wendell Berry, in the same book cited above, writes, “Eating is an agricultural act. Eating ends the annual drama of the food economy that begins with planting and birth.” There is a sense of peace and joy knowing that I am part of this life cycle, from the sowing to the harvesting. At the Camano Farm Ashram, where my children work and live, I observe seeds being planted in trays, carried into greenhouses and then planted into the ground. In summer, it is a thrill to walk through the farm and see the beauty of the growing plants. Biting into the first snap pea of the season, I had a memory of those who planted and harvested it. I had an image of the land that produced its goodness. That includes remembering foraging for berries—yum! I am having the natural childhood I never had.
Camano Farm Ashram is a no-till natural farm. They plant and harvest with their hands, not machines. They mulch, using no chemicals, and they study the contour of the land each year before they plant. They observe and listen to nature to guide them in their practices. Their food forests are diverse—vegetables and fruits and trees and flowers growing together. They are thoughtful about their food production and their product creation.
I am a follower of this online journal and have been a supporter of Circlewood (its parent organization) since 2019. I liked the idea of being an ecological disciple, but it has only been recently that I can claim that I am actually walking that path. I believe that the food changes I am making in my life make a difference in my personal life, my community, and ultimately the world. I take time to ask and ponder questions like: Is this food free of dangerous chemicals? If packaged or manufactured, how far was it transported? If packaged, how has it been processed? Does this food come from a farm or store that has Earth-friendly practices?
Wendell Berry says that simply having a change of heart or a change of values is not enough to transform industrial eaters into agricultural eaters. “Proper concern for nature and our use of nature must be practiced by ourselves, not just by proxy-holders such as corporations and politicians. The environmental crisis is not a crisis of pure environs or surroundings; it is a crisis of our individual lives, as family members, as community members, as citizens.”
There are multiple ways to move from being a consumer enslaved by the food industry to living a more fulfilled life as both a patron and participant in a local village. The more people who learn how to become the new hunter-gathers by growing their own food, supporting local farmers, subscribing to community supported agricultural farms and shopping at food cooperatives, the better it is for our health and for the health of our beautiful Earth.
The Camano Farm Ashram is only one of many farms on Camano Island which is committed to living and modeling sustainable living. Circlewood is committed to “accelerating the greening of faith” and humanity by forming disciples to practice sustainable living with values steeped in the broad Christian tradition.
For me, it is an exciting journey to be on a continuum of change where I am moving towards becoming a full-time agricultural eater. It has been quite a journey away from the days of frozen TV dinners, for which I am very grateful!
For more information about Camano Farm Ashram, including their values, visit: https://camanofarmashram.com/
Rev. Elaine H. Breckenridge