Yes

Pictured here, fresh passionfruit from Brandon Faria at Faria Farm. The flavor is almost overwhelming.

When I was a little girl, turning adolescent, turning teenager, I asked a lot of questions. I thought a lot, and I worried a lot.

I wanted to know about God and the universe, and where the ends of things were. It wasn't about science, it was about yearning to understand the way our human hearts work. I suppose someone would call this “philosophical,” but the truth is, I detested the philosophy classes I was exposed to, thinking that most such ponderings are meaningless. (Ironically, my daughter-the-Regents-Scholar at the University of California says it's her favorite class. The apple, in this department, fell far from the tree.)

I found myself thinking time and again about “What is the biggest question in the universe?” Of course, “What is the meaning of life?” is a good start, but then I realized something else. The biggest answer in the universe is Yes. Think about it.

I stumbled upon some beautiful reading in my favorite way: an innocent Google looking for something, anything, off my beaten path. Ever heard of Yes magazine? I hadn't. Their Summer 2000 issue is called Food for Life, and the articles there are just, well, beautiful. Exactly what I wanted to find.

There is a poem by Wendell Berry, called Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front.

Go with your love to the fields.
Lie easy in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.

Each article yields a morsel, a tidbit, to chew and consider. Some is pure poetry. Some is analytical, facts, science. Collectively, they have the power to change minds and hearts. This can be sustainable. This can be done. A sampler:

Hog Heaven
by Brian DeVore—a former factory farmer changed to hoop houses and pastures for his pigs, and earns a decent price for his pigs by selling them to Niman Ranch.

“[The pigs] ran around all day long, and they must have run around all night long, too, because when I went out to the building the next morning I will never forget what I found,” he recalls. “I peeked into the hoop house to see 180 pigs in one massive straw nest – snoring. I laughed until I cried. Their stress was gone, and so was mine. I know I’ll never go back to confinement. Once you cross that road, there is no way you can go back.”

Wild Rice Moon
by Winona LaDuke—a piece about the tribes in Minnesota who harvest wild rice in the old ways. (Do you remember that she was the Vice Presidential candidate for the Green Party in 2000?)

Eugene Davis and Tony Warren, tired, wet, and happy, have brought 300 pounds of rice off South Chippewa Lake. “This is the only job we can make $50 an hour at up here,” says Eugene, a young man of 20.

He doesn’t mind the rain, either. “I like it when it rains out there. It’s nice. You can’t hear anything but the rain.”

That quiet and peace is what brings the ricers back – along with the memories. I ask him if it matters to him that five generations of his family have riced on South Chippewa Lake. He smiles. “I like knowing that they was on the same lake. It makes me feel good.”

Tomato Days
by Margot Ford McMillen—as fine an essay illustrating my favorite Shaker saying, “Many hands, light work” as I've ever seen. How I wish I lived in a community with women who could teach me the art of canning, and who could gather with children and teenagers and spend a day putting up tomatoes for the winter.

What's so Beautiful about Small?
by Peter Rosset—this is what landed me on Yes magazine's website. I had Googled for "beautiful small farms," since that is one of the queries that regularly drives traffic to my website.

Yes. What a great big word.

To connect it with another legend: the meeting of John and Yoko. I've seen him tell the story of how he attended the opening of her art exhibit. There was a ladder, an implicit invitation to climb it and look into a spyglass, which pointed to something on the other end of the room on the ceiling. Lennon did, with slight trepidation that it might be an artist's trick —you know, peek through the spyglass and read "F--- you” or something.

So climb he did, and when he peered into the opening, all he saw in the lens was the word YES.

Say what you will about Yoko's lack of musical talent, but that single YES brought a lot more love into the world.

As any true YES should.

• • • • • • • • • • •

Just one more thing. One teeny-tiny, pleaseohplease, thing. Now that the Democrats have taken over the House and Senate, can we please have a freaking law that outlaws ANYTHING related to Christmas hype until the DAY AFTER THANKSGIVING? No advertisements, not a single note of music, NOTHING NOTHING NOTHING until the day after Thanksgiving.

Yeah, that'll happen.

THOUGHT FOR THE DAY: “To say yes, you have to sweat and roll up your sleeves and plunge both hands into life up to the elbows. It is easy to say no, even if saying no means death.” — Jean Anouilh

Thanks for visiting.

Comments

[lee]

I'm constantly awed by the power of Google. But it sure does make it easy to waste a day!

[Susan Gleason]

What a lovely post -- and thanks for the mention of YES! Magazine.

We're a nonprofit, ad-free magazine based on Bainbridge Island, Washington -- and we heart farms too! For a time, a local organic farm on Bainbridge, Serendipity Farm, was making weekly deliveries to our office. Several staff and interns have worked at Serendipity and other farms on the island.

If you liked the Food for Life issue - http://www.yesmagazine.org/default.asp?ID=81, you'll probably enjoy the current issue too, "Go Local" - http://www.yesmagazine.org/default.asp?ID=194 - including Gary Nabham's article on how local food systems build health and community wealth - http://www.yesmagazine.org/article.asp?ID=1581 . All 10 years' worth of YES! articles are archived and freely accessible at www.yesmagazine.org.

Thanks again -- and it's a joy to have discovered your site.

-- Susan