Thank You, St. Francis.

It is beginning to dawn on me that my path to farming was more of an evolution than a decision.

When someone asks me how I came to the decision that farming is to be my path, I have a difficult time answering. I don't know if there was a moment when I knew it for certain, but sometimes I look back on my life and try to figure out how I got here.

Me and George

I don't think it was growing up on a farm that did it. Not all on its own, anyway. Of course, if I hadn't grown up on a farm, I probably wouldn't know the first thing about farming. But still, I didn't grow up thinking that I was going to be just like my Dad, or that I wanted to get back to the land (I was kind of already there). I was exposed to a lot of things that other kids weren't, of course. Who knows at what early age I first observed the slaughtering of a chicken, or the miracle of an animal giving birth? But none of these things were what lead me to my decision to farm for a living. In fact, if anything, these things caused me to take farming for granted. The lifestyle my parents led (bless them and their hard-working ways) served only to lead me to believe that farming was not, in fact, a realistic way of life. 

So yes, growing up on a farm influenced me for certain. After all, there is nothing like getting scolded by your sisters because you didn't realize that keeping a lock of the hair of your long-dead horse Daisy in your room [as a memento!] was kind of gross. And how many kids can say they made their first buck selling eggs that they plucked from beneath the chickens themselves? And who can honestly tell me that they, too, saved for University by going to the sale barn with Dad and sister and picking out 2 beautiful calves to nurture and feed (somewhat begrudgingly) after school every day, all winter, only to be rewarded with a large deposit to one's savings fund come springtime? I can say those things, because I did them. But they didn't convince me that I should be a farmer.

Nor did living in Guelph. Nope. Even though Guelph just so happens to be [I'm pretty sure] the Aggie capital of Ontario (a claim evidenced by the fact that not too many people who haven't lived in Guelph even know when an Aggie is), and a haven for crazy organic hippies, raw foodies, and various breeds of your typical down-home cattle or hog farmer types, I still don't think that it was living there that did it to me. Of course, if I hadn't lived in Guelph, I may never have joined my first CSA, at Ignatius Farm. I may never have been exposed to the raw or local food movements. I might never have realized how much, in addition to cooking delicious meals, I also love cooking healthy, sustainable meals for myself and my loved one[s] to enjoy. And how much I need to be surrounded by good people who I love and care about, who love and care about me. And how much I want those people to be happy and healthy, and to have a world to live in 50 years from now that still remotely resembles the beautiful (though flawed) world we've still got now. 

Guelph sunrise.

In Guelph, at some point I realized that I wasn't just a closet environmentalist who enjoyed gardening in her spare time. I realized that my beliefs could become a way of life. In fact, they could be a guiding principal in my life. In fact-- in fact!-- they should guide my life. 

I suppose the moment I knew for sure came some time last summer, after I moved home to the farm for a summer of gardening and enjoying the peace and stillness that can be found there. But what made me decide to make that move? What or who is responsible for me quitting my job, breaking up with my boyfriend, moving home, and gardening for the summer?

Not my parents, though they made it possible. Not my ex-boyfriend, who was and is never anything but supportive and caring. And even though my Grandpa, with his intense desire to examine life, see the good in everyone and find joy in everything, has influenced me to want to do the same, I don't give him credit for my current state of mind. Nor do I credit my grandmother, though I will admit she is probably the influence behind my plastic-bag-saving, composting, reduce-reuse-recycling ways. Nope, none of these people or places or things has brought me here all on their own. 

So, was it realizing that I needed purpose? That I couldn't just live heedlessly in the moment-- that I had to live right now with passion, and consciousness, and integrity? Was it yoga? Meditation? Was it learning my body, and finally seeing my place in the order of things? Was it finally understanding that I am just "a functioning cog in some great machinery serving something beyond me?" And that this is actually a blessed thing to be?

That something that I am serving- this Earth, our Universe- is wonderful and beautiful, and the knowledge that I can, in my actions, make it more so is simultaneously humbling and inspiring. 

And it is worth working for.  

I've never really known something like this, so strongly. I've never been so driven to do something as I am driven to work toward retrieving the land from the jaws of the beast. And by the beast, I mean the myth of plenty that we all believe in. The sad, lonely belief we all have, that if we keep working, keep striving, keep seeking to gain, somehow it will get us someplace better. It's that myth that keeps us guzzling oil-- because we are trying to get somewhere. But where? It's that myth that encourages farmers to grow the big crops-- Corn! Wheat! Rice! Empty calories!-- Instead of nutritious, delicious vegetables and grass for our cows to eat. If only we could see that we are already here. And that all this seeking is making us feel lost, when truly, we are already found. 

You are already that which you are seeking. As I type those words, a fearful shudder pulses through my chest, as though I am knowing something true, and it both heartens and terrifies me. It's true. I've decided that it is time for me to stop looking, and start being, in every moment. And what I care about is what I know for certain is sacred and valuable. The land. The Earth, and her systems and creatures and peoples and stories. 

That includes us. You and me. We owe it to ourselves to take care of our home, and each other.

I come from a lot of places, a lot of people, and a lot of ideas. I've been influenced in a lot of ways, not least of all by my family, my upbringing, and my friends. There isn't a single person or moment that is responsible for the me that I am right now. Just like everyone, I am a convergence of ideas and traits that have fatefully gathered in one being, and I think that is a miracle, that I am a miracle as is everyone and everything else in existence. I intend to do that miracle justice. I intend to use my actions to demonstrate my beliefs and give glory to creation. What a glorious creation we have inherited. 

And that, my friends, is why I want to be a farmer. 

Wow, didn't see that one coming, did ya?

~

post script:

Several months ago, at the beginning of the summer, I read a book on meditation that told me to come up with a mantra from my own religion-- something familiar that was inspiring and easy to remember. I chose the Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi. I am not a Christian or a Catholic, but felt attracted to St. Francis for some strange reason, and I did grow up in a Christian church. I read a little bit about him at the time, and then thought no more of it, even as I said his prayer repeatedly. Daily. 

Just now, I googled that quote, "You are already that which you are seeking," to find out who said it first. Guess who? St. Francis of Assisi. 

Oh, but it gets better. Click on the link above, and you'll see a picture of a statue of the saint, just like this one, that I admired in the garden of our apartment of Liverpool St, for 2 years, without ever knowing who it was.

The patron saint of animals and ecology. Nice hat, Frank.

How is that for synchronicity?