Assumptions
At the risk of posting something that will sound like an ego-centric rant, I'm interested in responding to something that came out of a comment I posted on Red State Green. Her post was about much more than the thing that I locked onto, but I was struck by the fact that she's growing wheat (I assumed for flour) in her home garden. This made me realize that I've been reading quite a bit from certain blogs (see my sidebar for some of them) about some pretty original attempts to recapture some of our lost agrarian heritage. I have similar conversations with Emily all the time about how many recipes are nearly forgotten in the wake of so many boxed cakes and potatoes.
Now, I've broken through the despair that came with the realization that we've created a monster with our fundamentalist free-market philosophies (especially as applied to our food chain, which consists at least in part of living things). As a result, I'm starting to see that what we used to talk about with respect to recipes can be applied much more broadly to our relationship with the natural world. Chemicals and gasoline that go into maintaining a sterile, perfect lawn; hybridized tomatoes that now and forever more come from the nursery because they won't reproduce on their own; a set of something like a dozen vegetables that are easily found in supermarkets, outside of which I've realized I'm a culinary babe in the woods...all of this points to a whole home culture that's on the wane, maybe in danger of extinction.
My answer to this realization is much the same as with that of climate change: I can't continue with my head in the sand, cranking the air conditioning and contributing to an economic umbilicus that makes my world sick even as it keeps me alive and oblivious. We're destined to move to a different state soon, when Emily completes her dissertation, and any changes I make here in the interest of improving my climatic impact or use of the food chain will soon be a write-off. However, I'm learning what I can while I'm here, and making plans for the next home. I'm learning how to connect with the farmers in my area, and how to grow my own food in a small way with a single raised bed out back. I'm also harvesting rainwater with 150 gallons of storage capacity, mowing my yard with a reel mower, and learning how to compost. I've found that these things have a learning curve, and it will be good to have a so-so first attempt under my belt for the next place. I've learned a lot, but I also know I have a lot to learn. I know now that most of my habits for living life are wrong, and need to be re-examined.
In the blog post How to learn, the author of Red State Green is responding to my earlier comment, but seems to make the assumption that I am simply inept when it comes to finding information in the world around me. The opening paragraphs are all about how broken our education system is. While I agree that standardized, lowest-common-denominator approaches to education are a very bad idea, I also believe vehemently that learning is an internal process. Nobody can force you to learn something, as many of my classmates proved time and again. Her assumption most likely comes from a tendency I have of - believe it or not - being overly humble and self-deprecating when I first approach someone to ask a question. I was being complimentary, and hoping she'd point out specific resources she used to learn about wheat milling and the edibility of purslane. I know that milling traditionally takes place using huge stones, and I have doubts that a countertop appliance will yield good results. In my own research, I'm starting to find that the books I read repeat each other, only adding marginal information toward the end. There are many resources online, of course, but sites vary in their quality of awareness for the whole problem we face, so it's useful to come across dependable resources from sources you trust to know good from bad.
So, here comes the egotistical part: I'm not impaired when it comes to learning.
I am a self-taught and fairly well-respected software engineer. The very nature of my business requires that I start most tasks without knowing everything I need to complete them, then learn the rest along the way. Outside of work, I've taught myself about climate change, home improvement, a little bit of gardening, economics, and that I agree with the tenets of Buddhism over Christianity, because I read the damned (take the pun as you like) books and watched how the followers of each faith have acted. I'm not a fast reader, but I make up for that and then some with my intensity of focus...not to mention an Audible.com subscription that allows me to continue learning while I do other things, like walking the dog. I have a trusted set of podcasts that I listen to, many blogs that I follow, and several magazines that I consider to have high standards for what they print. But like any information hound, I'm always on the lookout for another good lead, something that can open a whole new door to me. Some people seem to think they already have all the information they need, and stop looking for more. Personally, I believe this is every bit as sad and wrong as a poor initial education.
If things will become even half as dreary as some peak-oil types suggest, or the climate science is showing us day by day, then it's not enough for one person to understand what they need to survive. Buddhism addresses this through the warning of the Lonely Buddha: it's almost sinful to gather information and use it only for your own enlightenment. As you learn, your knowledge should benefit others. If someone comes to you seeking information that you have, share it. That's the beauty of most types of information: sharing doesn't decrease its value to you.
Oh, and lighten up on the judgement a little. Part of this exercise is examining your own assumptions, after all.