Visions

These flat lands filled with industrial farms (corn, wheat, soybeans, and sugar beets) allow my mind to think of all the possibilities. When a commercial farm of 200 acres brings in about $20 per acre and an organic CSA bring in $8,000 to $15,000 per acre it only makes sense that small, organic, local farms are the way of the future. Not only do they make way more money, but they feed and support the community in which they are embedded.

The ways in which small organic farms help the world are almost immeasurable. They provide a manual, body enriching labor for the farmers and volunteers. These farms act as a place for healthy communities to grow. People learn where their food is grown and how their chicken, cows, pigs, and goats are raised. They know where their eggs and milk come from. Here in the Midwest, many have small orchards of apples and plums. A strong sense of work ethic develops in workers and volunteers. A greater appreciation for hot days and rains storms becomes essential. Bodies slowly mold into tan, sinuous, and glorious reflections of hard labor in the elements. Trees provide a home for bird and insects. The surrounding forests are the home to deer, small mammals, hawks, and owls. Near by waters run clean and free of chemicals.

I want to take you now to a vision I’ve been working with. In this season if fire, check out my earlier posts on the solstice, I’ve been cultivating not only crops but my internal fire. My will is burning strong these days. Not only to I use this fire to show up to my work but in the down times I’ve been writing. This is part of my Will, to write. I’ve been writing about my vision of the future. It may sound utopian but knowing farm work and all the hard labor and potential downfalls of crop failure, I assure you that the reality is not as romantic as the language we bestow upon such futures. With this caveat, I invite you to come gather around my campfire as I tell a story and weave a spell.

Imagine a farm. Rich brown soil smelling of hummus and manure. It’s midsummer and the tomatoes are just coming in. Farmers are in the fields harvesting all sorts of produce. Red, green and yellow lettuces and dark green spinach leaves as big as your hand fill woven baskets made by the town’s Weavers Guild. You pass by pales of strawberries, raspberries, and blueberries; sweet and cold after the morning rain. Empty rows where chard, beets, and radishes were just yesterday are now being prepared for a cover crop. Clover and buckwheat are bring tilled under by tracker and plow horse in order to in get late season crops, broccoli, cauliflower, cabbage, and other roots. Yellow summer squash and green zucchinis burst out of vine bushes. They scream “pick me”. Rows of eggplants dangle tiny purple, white and striped fruits. Everywhere you look, vibrant life explodes out of soil that quivers with excitement.

Off in the distance, the forest brushes right next the enclosed garden. Deer peer in, licking their lips at the greens, so ripe and ready.

Raised beds hold annual, biannual and perennial herbs. You find herbs for the kitchen, the medicine cabinet, and for dyeing cloth. A fence keeps in sheep, goats, llamas, and a few cows. The pasture connects to a barn at this farm and to another barn farm next to this one. To support the community of 1,000 people there are three farms, run by a few families and many volunteers. The old farm houses now houses the interns that come from all over the country. They’ve come to learn about organic farming and how a community can be nearly self sufficient. The Blacksmith guild comes to the farm to work on repairing hand tools and fixing trackers. The Weavers come to collect the wool, herbs, and other materials gathered from the forest. Back in town, in their building, they dye the raw materials and spin it into beautiful skeins of yarn and tread in which they loom into fabrics. On this Saturday, the Healers Guild has come with a group of high school aged students to teach them about herbal medicine and acupuncture. A group of older women sit around a table shelling peas and sipping wine made from grapes from the vineyard.

Children gather around the chicken coop and pig pen. Couples and groups of friends come in from the field caring stirrup hoes and baskets almost spilling over with cherry tomatoes, squash, cabbage and broccoli. Everyone from the community is welcome to the harvest. Members from Cheese Makers Guild come back in the evening to milk the goats and cows. You over heard them laughing as they enter the milking shed. The interns retire for the evening, greeted at the farm house by the farmers holding beers. The smells of grilled vegetables seasoned with spices, traded for by baskets of wild rice, perfumes the warm air.

The local Pagan group begins to set up a bonfire for this month’s full moon ritual. This being the ‘Full Hay Moon’ they will bless the hay fields and other crops coming in now. In the morning, one of the Christian groups might hold a service at the farm.

As you can see, when a community grows around the farm, all groups invested in its success, everyone works to its benefit, we don’t need to have the power struggles of large companies or other outside forces. Things can become better, strong, and more beautiful. The old traditions, of well made, hand crafted goods and services once again can exist. Clean waters can coincide with human nature. The earth can be rich, black, and healthy. Clearly we don’t need chemical fertilizers, pesticides, and heavy machinery. Yes it takes work…. Hard work. But the rewards are immeasurable. This work creates strong communities, strong families, strong bodies, and strong ecosystems.

So how do we take my vision, which is the vision of so many people throughout the world, and make it manifest. This is a very long, a complex answer. One that is far to long for a blog post. If you want resources to make this dream the slightest bit more of a reality; check out your local CSA. A simple Google search can find the one closest to you. If you want to volunteer or intern at an organic farm, check out http://www.wwoof.org/.

I have shared my hope for a better and brighter future of coexistence and harmony with nature, our own bodies, and each other. What does your future look like? How are you working to bring it into reality?

Solstice Fire II

So with the fire in the sky at its height and the fires in our lives being fueled by this cosmologicical occurrence. I see so many ways in which the season of summer is the season of the element Fire. Not only is it ridiculously hot some days but this is also the time of bon fires, cooking outdoors, getting great amount of work done, taking time for pleasure, doing what we and doing what we desire.

All of the word I’ve just mention fall under the heading of Fire. For a quick cosmologic break down of these and other words, I like to place them on or around the third chakra. Firstly I would say that with the element of fire comes the power of that element, which is Will or “to Will”. I right Will with a capital W for this is our larger will. The Divine Will. The work of this god in the Feary Tradition or in ceremonial witchcraft Knowledge and Conversation of One’s Own Guardian Angle (with was never a phrase which was meant to be taken literally but here we are). This our Will in the center of our third chakra I like to place the words Need and What on two points of the triangle and the word Desire where they converge. Just below the third but above the second chakra I like to place Passion.

Now there is a lot here. I’ve come to this diagram of the third chakra though studying various witchcraft traditions, basic charka study, contemplation and meditation. Wither these attributes of the third chakra are the petals on it, I’m not sure. But it works for me. I encourage you to work with this diagram, wither it be in mediation or contemplation. Ask yourself, how does my small will (getting up, brushing your teeth, going to work, showing up on time) fuel your larger Will (helping the poor, curing the sick, spending time with the elderly, growing food sustainably, what ever your True Will is)? How do your needs (food, water, shelter, clothing, love) and your wants (insert bigger wants (no oh I want some chocolate or a new pair of shoes) lead you to desires? How do your passions fuel your Will? Play around with these words and how they are all interconnected.

Other things to ask:
~Am I ignoring my desires because I cant accept my needs and wants?
~How am I engaging by Will by using my will?
~How am I not engaging by will and how is it affecting my Will?
~What wood are you feeding inner fire (what are you eating, how much exercise are you getting, how much down time do you give yourself so you don’t burn out)?
~Am I breathing deeply, giving my fire enough Oxygen.

These are just a few questions to ask yourself regarding your inner fire and your True Will. Perhaps you are at the point in life asking yourelf “Why am I here? What is my True Will”. These are very important questions as well. If this is your case, then take time to breath into the still place within your body, clam your mind however you chose to do so (mantra, chant, prayer) and listen to your Spirit. What is it telling you your Purpose is.

What makes your fire burn white hot?

Solstice Fire I

Summer solstice comes and goes every year. Since I’ve been observing it’s significance to our lives, it has rained (2009) and I’ve had to work all day (2010). But even now, in seeing it is the beginning of summer and the fire season here in the Midwest I’ve come to accept that for the last two years my dreams of a solstice celebration with bounties of food, bon fires, chants, and dancing are still yet a few years away. So for the time and times being, I’ll have to celebrate Litha in my own way.

Yesterday I started out by giving an offering of corn meal to the elements, to the Earth Mother, to the summer sky, to the Fiery Sun, and to Artemis who is helping me with some endeavors. I then rode my bike to work and passed by the hawk who looks for her breakfast on the electrical pole everyday. We flew side by side for a while, like most mornings, then she turned around and I continued down the road. I worked all day under the sun. I took some time after I ate my lunch to meditated and connect with the power of this day. I felt stillness. It was like a iron or copper pole held the sun directly above the earth. The sliver wheel had once again come to a point, and I felt the heat of summer descended into the earth from the sun. Photons of light made into a brilliant show of plant life which lives rise to bugs and birds and all of nature. She is the conduit for all that is and full of life.

Later that day, I sat in the yard and watched the sun fall below the horizon. The moon made her way up into the sky and a gentle breeze cooled my sun tanned arms. The sun disappeared leaving a gray blue sky and the sliver wheel continued on. Going inside and to my bed, the moon cast her light on to my skin though my south facing window. The wind cooled the heated attic and I drifted into sleep. In my dreams I laughed and woke myself up. Lord only knows what was so funny. Returning to sleep, I dreamed of my Aunt Kathy. Weather it was her spirit meeting me on some plane of consciousness or my memory of her playing on the screen of my minds eye, I’m not sure. She looked different, more youthful with red and blond hair. I cry every time she appears in my dreams. Perhaps one day I will stop my emotions for filling me with sadness for her passing or joy with meeting up with her again will be able to receive her intention for apparition.

Storm Blessing

Blessed Rain and Wind
I welcome you with open arms and open heart
Come and wash away pain and hurt
Come and fill my cup with blessing from above.
Come and water my creative endeavors
Come and refresh the well of my spirit.

Blessed Thunder and Lightning
I welcome you with open arms and open heart
Come and shake my foundations
Come and light up my life
Come and charge the air
Come and waken my fire

Rain and Wind and Lightning and Thunder
I welcome you and bless you as you come and go
Blessed Be

A day of scents

My day started off with rain. The gentle sound of rain on leaves and grass woke me before the harsh beep of my alarm. The smell of wet grass swept though the attic, cool and calm; gently releasing my sore muscles from sleep. I rest in bed for another hour, a well deserved day off. 13 hours of farm labor and to little water, makes for sore tendons and muscles. Buffalo gnats create red welts on my tan and freckled arms and legs. They itch and sting as I scratch and rub in the oatmeal and Shea butter lotion.

My breakfast, whole oats with maple syrup cinnamon and milk feels good to by body and spirit. My mind, worn from a semester of science and studies does not rests this summer. There will be no papers or exams but the acquisition of knowledge based in soil and chlorophyll with be my studies. The fields, my chalk board. My teacher, Thor and nature. The harvest, my tests and final.

I cook up my chicken. Olive oil, onions and garlic perforate the house as I clean the chicken. In go basil, parsley, cumin, salt, rosemary and thyme from the garden. Clean water from the fridge and 200 degrees on the burner. 2 hours later the house smells like a home rather than dust and I’m the proud owner of a bowl of perfect chicken and a gallon of chicken stock. Add home made mayonnaise; a little too much olive oil, some fresh spring onions and the rest of a box of penne make a pasta salad fit for royalty.

Today is laundry day for me. I take my clothes from the washer and hang them on the clothes line. My bandanna and underwear hang like prayer flags in the late spring breeze. The sun shines down on me and I am thankful. Carried in the air is the pungent scent of lilac and honeysuckle, both in full bloom. I offer corn meal to the spirits of air and water, to the plants and the earth, to the wind and the sun. I give to Sister Spring and myself. I bless this land. She has been broken but today is for healing though thanks.

The sky now clouds over and threatens with rain. I contemplate my next move. Grab the almost dry laundry off the line now or take a chance and wait till rain starts to fall and run out and gather dry clothes before the process needs to be repeated? A thunder head passes over all of Shelly and I feel the air shift. The quick updraft of wind pulls at my shirt and hair. The bandanna dance and twist around the line. I feel the fabric, it’s dry and soft. It smells of like lilacs. Wonderful! I take my t-shifts, tang-tops and headbands off the wire. As I’m folding my clothes a woman leisurely drives by and we exchange waves and smiles. The air is still and my damp pants hang there, limp. The once grass and dirt covered denim a faded dark blue. The earth, shadowed by clouds, I decided not to temp faith, less I be the middle of a project or the skies open up as if by a faucet, and take down the moist clothes as well.

As luck would have it, rain did not fall all day long. The sky lit up with lighting and thunder at night but the ground remained dry, unlike my pants.

To be or not to be

Riding through the Red River Valley is rather monotonous. Granted, every place has its intrinsic natural beauty and spirit but being still for a moment, grounding and centering, I can feel the scar that modern agricultural has inflicted on this land. Prairie and forest, leveled and ditched has created a flattened landscape unlike one I’ve ever seen. I’ve climbed mountains and seen valleys rise and fall for miles, I’ve been surrounded by waters so expansive and deep they call my very soul to retreat with my core lest it fall over board, but this is different. It pulls at thoughts of sustenance through destruction and an unsustainable cycle.

The sky encapsulates us like dome. Green, blue and white surround my visual perspective and I shift into a druidic mysticism. The sky, such light blue it tips on white, pulls my consciousness to the realms suited for spirits of air, totems of birds and my beloved Frigg, Goddess of Prophecy and Spinner of Clouds. Shifting my gaze lower I encounter a world of green; Deep greens of forest and alien electrics from grasses. I’m now among the land, sustainable life force, sun light made manifest though Mother Earth. A red-wing-black bird perched atop a dry cat tail. His silky black body reminds me of the ever present blackness, the collective wave length of the rainbow. He takes of into the field just sprouting some form of grain. I wonder where this seed came from, be it ConAgra or Monsanto, or is has the farmer been lucky enough to save the year from last years harvest. Probably not but ‘hope is a renewable resource”.

Going to an organic market should renew this hope? Huddled in the back corner of Fargo is Tocky. It is small, low lit and low ceilings, smelling mildly of patchouli. Store owners with black sunglasses give off an air of pretentiousness, almost unnoticeable and unwanted. Even now, heady from scents of sweet orange, eucalyptus, and lemon balm, I can’t help but feel like a quaff this as I walk though Cash Wise food, my basket filled to the brim with organic milk, a whole chicken (free-range on family farms), raw almonds, and extra virgin olive oil. I feel almost guilty for buying whole milk from KEMPS. Or that my onions and canned tomatoes aren’t organic or local. Looking at my reusable back next to the plastic bag dispenser I can’t help feel a sense of holier-than-thou.

Shouldn’t being organic, local, all natural, and all the other adjectives we place on good food make one feel whole? I feel these words are tied to things such as yoga studious, art galleries, and fancy wines. I long for drums, and soil, and the smell of bon fires. I want the rich, red hummus of the earth underneath my finger nails and wear it as badge of honor... and to be humble. Of all of Aunt Kathy’s advice, it was to remain humble. Being low to the ground should be humble. Forget the fancy china and black tie events. Give me a meal in wooden bowls, good local beer and friends. Yes the flavors of foods are exciting and intense but should there be such a chauvinistic attitude surrounding the words ‘organic’ or even ‘European import’.

But here is the saving grace. Do your best. If one can’t get local, organic, vegan, free-range, then pick one. Starhawk and Barbara Kingsolver and so many more never said ‘strive for purity’, for who can achieve purity. Purity is a goal for Evangicals and the like. I know nothing is pure and shouldn’t be. It wasn’t meant to be pure. Since the beginning it a been a mingling and evolution of elements. So end with the principle of evolution in mind, do the best to survive and as a human, be creative.

New Begingins in the Flattest Place on Earth, the Red River Valley

Hey everyone. I’m going to use my blog as a way for you to know what I’m up to. No this isn’t a way to you to know my every waking moment but because we can’t spend the summer together and it will probably be at least till the fall before I see you, I’d like you to know how my adventures at Red Goose Gardens are going.
Firstly, I shout out to my Aunt and Uncle for giving me a gift certificate for a yarn shop. YEAHHH!!!! I now have several wonderful shades of green, 100% wool, yarn. I’m going to attempt to make a delicious poncho out of them. It’ll be a bit warm to wear now that it is like 80 degrees out everyday but come fall and winter; it will make a lovely addition to my wardrobe. Other things I wish to accomplish this summer, besides learning how a farm and a CSA works, is to finish The Mists of Avalon, The Shack (THANK YOU AMY), and The Lacuna. I know that sounds like a lot but when you get done with 8 hours of farm work, damn all I want to do is have a beer and read a good book. 
Moving in went well. There was a bit of a concern when it came to squeezing a queen pillow top mattress into a full size bed frame but it worked out… I think. The full size fitted sheet ripped a bit as we were attempting to make the bed. Oh well we’ll see how it all works out. I’m staying in the top level of the house and it gets quite warm up there I might be picking up some ice packs and a fan at the store tomorrow.
My fellow interns are really cool. The couple is from Oregon an have worked at a goat farm CSA. Totally legit. One of them has dreads and she said if I wanted to do it too, she would be willing to help! Sweet! The other guy is from North Carolina. He seams like an interesting guy. Not exactly sure what he wants to do but hey, who at 20 does. He’s turning 21 on a Saturday in June. Hopefully it’s not on Annie’s graduation weekend, cause I would like to go to the bar with all them.
Today we transplanted 3 flats, that’s over 600 tomato plants into six packs, harvested a whole bag of asparagus, removed the seed heads from rhubarb plants, and fixed up part of the fence that got knocked over because of the flood. And that was all between 1:00 and 7:30. We then ran down to this gas station/ice cream store and got some delicious soft serve. A great ending to a very exciting day. Well not really the end cause I’m checking e-mails, surfing the web and writing this. Hopefully ya’ll check in and of course I’ll be on facebook and my e-mail all summer long. Totally have the Wi-Fi connection. Look UMD housing, they have Wi-Fi all the way out here in the flattest place on earth.
Sending all my Love and Blessings,
Charles