Last week I visited an old friend, one I hadn't spend time with in quite a long time (probably since I graduated from college...). Our relationship had always been a good one; I always walked away from our visits feeling fulfilled, knowing that I'd learned something from our time together. I felt inspired, empowered, and eager to return again soon.
Yes, the library. I stopped going because, well, I'm not sure why. Perhaps because it became more fashionable to visit the shiny new bookstore with my latte in hand. The problem is, I couldn't walk away from the stores with anything I wanted. I had to pick out just one thing--if that--and take a chance on whether it was what I really wanted. Oh, I miss roaming around the bookstore looking for a treasure to add to my bookshelf, particularly old bookstores where treasures can actually be found. But I've rediscovered the joy of the library this week. It was there when I needed it, eager to show me the things I yearned to find, and generous enough to let me walk away with them, if only for a little while.
These days, every dollar--every cent, really--counts. When I took it upon myself to start learning all I could about organic living, my first instinct was to rush off to the bookstore and find the newest, most reliable, most relevant title I could find. Usually I'd be able to rationalize such a purchase since it was for the betterment of my mind, and not just an impulsive, frivolous purchase (which I concede has its place, too). But this time, I truly did not have a cent to spare. If I wanted to get my hands on real books to teach me what I wanted to know, I was forced to return to the library. I'm so glad I did.
I found several things there, but here are the three that are most profoundly challenging everything I know about food and forcing me to rethink consumerism in a way that I'm actually thankful for. Becoming a deliberate, intentional consumer is something that is really quickly becoming extremely important to me. I'm truly surprised how deeply convicted I've become over this topic. I won't get preachy, but what I will say is that these three titles opened my eyes, stirred my heart, and encouraged me to find ways to take action, even if the steps are small at first.
1. King Korn (2008). Joey and I watched this last night and were surprised at some of the interesting points it brings up. The movie starts out with two best friends who set out to discover why our generation is the first to have a shorter life expectancy than our parents. Their investigation led them to find out that their bodies are made up primarily of corn (in other words, their diet primarily originates from corn). Crazy. The movie opened our eyes to just how industrialized farming has become. Not just farming, but corn farming in particular. How strange that Iowa grows enough corn to feed the entire US, but none of it is edible; instead, it's destined to become ethanol, corn syrup, or cow feed. We were saddened and a bit disgusted at how sick America has become due to the overproduction of corn. This movie created lines of communication between us that I am so thankful for. Not to mention the fact that we were able to talk with my parents about it and encourage them to watch it too. I think this will be the catalyst for change in our family.
2. Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver (2008). This book is a great combination of storytelling and expose. Kingsolver recounts the year-long commitment her family made to eating locally and divulges eye-opening truths about the food industry that they learned along the way, everything from how conventional beef is fed, slaughtered and shipped, to the sheer amount of fossil fuel that is used to deliver food to our table. Plus, her daughter inserts her own anecdotes that are quite entertaining and encouraging, and she includes a few recipes that look absolutely delicious. No, not everyone is capable of making as dramatic a change as the Kingsolver Clan (they own a little farm in Kentucky), but the book does give practical encouragement for ways that we can make a difference. I don't know about you, but I'm all for practicality.
3. Sarah Snow's Fresh Living by Sarah Snow (2009). This book was more practical than Kingsolver's, but it was equally eye-opening for me. I took a particular interest in the chapter about making a green nursery (since I'll have a newborn in less than 4 months...). Not only does Snow offer advice about how to live green, but she also explains reasons why it's so important. Green has become such a buzzword, something that people tend to throw around to sound trendy or cool. The truth is, as Snow points out, that "going green" is really living life more like it was lived 50 years ago. Our parents grew up on more healthy food, things that didn't contain such high amounts of pesticides or chemicals and they played with toys that weren't made with toxic ingredients like so many are today.
No, I'm not going to be an all-out "granola" as Joey likes to call it (I promise that my children will know the joy of an Oreo cookie), but I am going to be mindful. To be conscientious, wise and a good steward of the world and resources that God gave us. I guess that it boils down to this: what I'm learning is that to be passive is to die a slow death--and it's not just my own life we're talking about here, but the lives of my husband, my children, my friends and family--and those are just the folks in my immediate little world. This is a far-reaching problem and there is not a simple solution. I am only one person, but I'm realizing that what little I can do will change my health and that of my small little world.
Yes, the library. I stopped going because, well, I'm not sure why. Perhaps because it became more fashionable to visit the shiny new bookstore with my latte in hand. The problem is, I couldn't walk away from the stores with anything I wanted. I had to pick out just one thing--if that--and take a chance on whether it was what I really wanted. Oh, I miss roaming around the bookstore looking for a treasure to add to my bookshelf, particularly old bookstores where treasures can actually be found. But I've rediscovered the joy of the library this week. It was there when I needed it, eager to show me the things I yearned to find, and generous enough to let me walk away with them, if only for a little while.
These days, every dollar--every cent, really--counts. When I took it upon myself to start learning all I could about organic living, my first instinct was to rush off to the bookstore and find the newest, most reliable, most relevant title I could find. Usually I'd be able to rationalize such a purchase since it was for the betterment of my mind, and not just an impulsive, frivolous purchase (which I concede has its place, too). But this time, I truly did not have a cent to spare. If I wanted to get my hands on real books to teach me what I wanted to know, I was forced to return to the library. I'm so glad I did.
I found several things there, but here are the three that are most profoundly challenging everything I know about food and forcing me to rethink consumerism in a way that I'm actually thankful for. Becoming a deliberate, intentional consumer is something that is really quickly becoming extremely important to me. I'm truly surprised how deeply convicted I've become over this topic. I won't get preachy, but what I will say is that these three titles opened my eyes, stirred my heart, and encouraged me to find ways to take action, even if the steps are small at first.
1. King Korn (2008). Joey and I watched this last night and were surprised at some of the interesting points it brings up. The movie starts out with two best friends who set out to discover why our generation is the first to have a shorter life expectancy than our parents. Their investigation led them to find out that their bodies are made up primarily of corn (in other words, their diet primarily originates from corn). Crazy. The movie opened our eyes to just how industrialized farming has become. Not just farming, but corn farming in particular. How strange that Iowa grows enough corn to feed the entire US, but none of it is edible; instead, it's destined to become ethanol, corn syrup, or cow feed. We were saddened and a bit disgusted at how sick America has become due to the overproduction of corn. This movie created lines of communication between us that I am so thankful for. Not to mention the fact that we were able to talk with my parents about it and encourage them to watch it too. I think this will be the catalyst for change in our family.
2. Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver (2008). This book is a great combination of storytelling and expose. Kingsolver recounts the year-long commitment her family made to eating locally and divulges eye-opening truths about the food industry that they learned along the way, everything from how conventional beef is fed, slaughtered and shipped, to the sheer amount of fossil fuel that is used to deliver food to our table. Plus, her daughter inserts her own anecdotes that are quite entertaining and encouraging, and she includes a few recipes that look absolutely delicious. No, not everyone is capable of making as dramatic a change as the Kingsolver Clan (they own a little farm in Kentucky), but the book does give practical encouragement for ways that we can make a difference. I don't know about you, but I'm all for practicality.
3. Sarah Snow's Fresh Living by Sarah Snow (2009). This book was more practical than Kingsolver's, but it was equally eye-opening for me. I took a particular interest in the chapter about making a green nursery (since I'll have a newborn in less than 4 months...). Not only does Snow offer advice about how to live green, but she also explains reasons why it's so important. Green has become such a buzzword, something that people tend to throw around to sound trendy or cool. The truth is, as Snow points out, that "going green" is really living life more like it was lived 50 years ago. Our parents grew up on more healthy food, things that didn't contain such high amounts of pesticides or chemicals and they played with toys that weren't made with toxic ingredients like so many are today.
No, I'm not going to be an all-out "granola" as Joey likes to call it (I promise that my children will know the joy of an Oreo cookie), but I am going to be mindful. To be conscientious, wise and a good steward of the world and resources that God gave us. I guess that it boils down to this: what I'm learning is that to be passive is to die a slow death--and it's not just my own life we're talking about here, but the lives of my husband, my children, my friends and family--and those are just the folks in my immediate little world. This is a far-reaching problem and there is not a simple solution. I am only one person, but I'm realizing that what little I can do will change my health and that of my small little world.
No comments:
Post a Comment