Mind and Body

“There is strength, freedom, sustainability, and pride in being a practiced dweller in your own surroundings, knowing what you know,” opens Gary Snyder, author of the essay Cultured or Crabbed (46). The strength and sustainability that Snyder refers to in his piece is echoed by bell hooks in her essay, Touching the Earth; and it leads to health. In her piece, hooks quotes Wendell Berry as saying that farming/working with the land defines humans as being “not too good to work without our bodies, but too good to work poorly or joylessly or selfishly or alone” (105). The physical and emotional well-being of each individual, according to Snyder and hooks, depends on his/her deep and rooted connection with the natural world.

“Deep Ecology thinkers insist that the natural world has value in its own right, that the health of natural systems should be our first concern, and that this best serves the interests of humans as well. They are well aware that primary people everywhere are our teachers in these values,” (Snyder 47). Primary people, in this context, refer to the indigenous peoples of the land as well as those who have spent their lives working with it and living amongst nature. These are bell hooks’ ancestors. These are blacks who spent most of their lives in the agrarian south during the times of slavery. Hooks explains that a love of the earth translates to a love of self (104) and the rich soil that she played in as a child was a source of life for her. Snyder and hooks agree that nature is life. Life is present throughout the natural world, thus being a part of nature is synonymous with being alive.

“Living so close to nature, black folks were able to cultivate a spirit of wonder and reverence for life,” says hooks. “Growing food to sustain life and flowers to please the soul, they were able to make a connection with the earth that was ongoing and life-affirming,” (105). Knowing that you and nature together yield food, the sustenance of human life, is a healthy outlook, hooks explains. According to Snyder, there are two kinds of knowing. The first kind of knowing is found in culture, where you, your family, and your community can do real work together, and refers to the things that ground you and put you in a certain place, (46). Conversely, the other kind of knowing requires one to delve completely out of his/her actual place and revert to “straying outside” for answers, (47). This second type of knowing grants freedom and allows humans to connect with the earth that feeds our bodies and souls. The way in which humans make that connection with nature is dependent upon what they do in it.

“Culture”, as explained by Snyder, comes from the Latin word “colere” which means worship or cultivate, (47). The fact alone that humans use the word cultivate when referencing working the land to yield crops, hints at its religious and spiritual undertones. Hooks describes how her black ancestors felt working on the land in a passage by Onnie Lee Logan, a slave who lived her life on the farms of Alabama: “We lived a happy, comfortable life to be right outa slavery times. I didn’t know nothing else but the farm so it was happy and we was happy… We couldn’t do anything else but be happy,” (105). This all changed for blacks when they moved to the North for material well-being (to earn a living in the industrialized towns); the shift away from the agrarian life-style on the farms to the harshness of the warehouses led to a deterioration in spiritual well-being, (106). After some time in the North spent enduring such a mind and body split, many blacks returned to the South; the return “home” in search of spiritual nourishment, a sort of healing, was deeply connected to reaffirming one’s undeniable connection to nature, (107). Working the land, according to Berry, provides humans with a way to experience a sense of personal power and well-being, (107). By being capable of creating your own food and being responsible for nurturing its growth, you are able to fully enjoy its ability to give back to you, to sustain your life.

Realizing that nature is what grants humans freedom is the backbone on which human health rests, hooks and Snyder agree. One of the most moving lines in Snyder’s essay comes when he is talking about how nature’s release makes the human feel: “Untied. Unstuck. Crazy for awhile. It breaks taboo, it verges on transgression, it teaches humility. Going out – fasting – singing alone – talking across the species boundaries – praying – giving thanks – coming back,” (47). Snyder wants us not to “become one” with nature but to hold our similarities and differences with nature in our mind, (47). He is challenging all of us to go forth into nature and lose ourselves for awhile and then come back and feel healthy and refreshed; even more challenging is hooks’ desire for each one of us to bring nature into our everyday lives and restore the balance of the planet but changing our relationships to nature and its resources, (107). Humans have more mobility than any other creature, it seems; we are able to move about by car, by plane, by train or by foot. Allowing yourself to venture into the wilderness and experience its growth, we can become inspired – our emotional health will, in turn, nurture our physical health.

Hooks quotes Berry again when he warns humans that only through repairing the broken connections we have with nature can humans be healed and it is in that connection that we find health. Berry goes on, “And what our society does its best to disguise from us is how ordinary, how commonly attainable, health is.” When we lose that health, according to Berry, we create diseases and dependencies that only profit big businesses and we lose sight of the “direct connections between living and eating, eating and working, working and loving,” (107). These simple facts, simple connections, can make the world of difference, not just in the fight to sustain our planet, but in the fight to sustain ourselves. Snyder and hooks show us just how meaningful the human relationship with nature are – we did, in fact, all come from the earth. As hooks quotes Chief Seattle as saying in 1854: “The rocky crests, the juices in the meadows, the body heat of the pony, and man – all belong to the same family,” (105). The interwoven character of human and nature’s relationship is something Snyder and hooks’ essays both display; the two essays differ only in their approach to said claim.

Snyder’s piece mainly reflects on one’s individual journey into the wild, he talks about leaving home to “embark on a quest,” (47). Hooks spends her essay focusing on a migration of people away from, and eventually back to, the wilderness. Her ancestors were plagued with hatred in the slave-driven South yet, their move North led to the horrible misuse of the body in factories as opposed to on farms which led to the destruction of the mind and spirit, (106). Returning to the agrarian South led to a healing of the mind and body. Both authors use effective techniques that make the problem of lost-connections with nature seem like a widespread epidemic. The only way to deal with the problem, according to both writers, is to start with yourself and your individual presence in nature.

disproportionate footprints

"To consume also carries the implication of waste, of destruction..."

This quote taken from Chapter 4 of Saving Place is a realization that we must all come to. Consumption is viewed as economical success but, in the realm of ecology, it can be a failure of epic proportions.

Everyday I consume food, naturally. But that food comes from a grocery store and was sent there from far away by a plane or semi-truck. That food is packaged in various materials, some of which make it to a recycle bin and some of which don't.

Everyday I use paper, I take notes which I could otherwise type on a computer. Except if I did type on a computer, I would need a lot of electricity to power my laptop because the battery can barely hold a charge.

Everyday I make enough phone calls or send enough text messages that I need to recharge my phone every night. More electricity.

I live in a fully-carpeted, heated two-story apartment. My roommates both have space heaters. More electricity.

My roommate is not comfortable unless the house is heated to 67 degrees. Besides being expensive, that seems wasteful. Indigenous people were a lot colder than that and survived and we can too.

Our culture is, if not materialistic, definitely centered around being comfortable. Maybe we want to be more than comfortable even; our culture seems to be looking for a cushy and easy life. We can be lazy and are definitely wasteful because caring takes that extra effort that few are willing to give.

Since reading the bell hooks piece, I have been seriously considering growing a vegetable garden. I think that is going to be my summer/lifetime resolution. It just seems so healthy, cost-effective, and it completely cuts out the middlemen - the grocery story, the packaging company, the semi-trucks, the garbage trucks, etc.

Ted Monroe?

On page 37 of the Ted Kerasote reading, he quotes Thoreau: "Dullness is but another name for tameness."

This quote reminds me a lot of an overused Marilyn Monroe quote: "Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it's better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring."

Kerasote is talking about the "wild" and how, once everything is tamed, it becomes dull. The "wilderness" will no longer be "wild". Monroe, on the other hand, is talking about humans. Humans, once tamed and no longer ridiculous, become boring/dull.

Maybe the insight gained from both of these quotes can tell us something. Maybe it is further proving the point that humans belong in the wilderness and thus, the two, are pretty much synonymous.

Sustainability in the Form of Coffee

Sustainability, as defined by Wikipedia, is the ability to endure. Therefore, in its most

simplistic adaptation, the term “environmental sustainability” is the ability for the world

around us to endure.

Social justice, according to the National Association of Social Workers, is the belief that all people deserve equal economic, political, and social rights and opportunities. If equality is reached in these areas, human life will endure.

Donkey Coffee and Espresso, located at 17 ½ W. Washington St. in Athens, OH blends more than just caffeine beverages. The quaint little shop is the perfect mix of sustainability and social justice and the product? The product is a delightful place that has been a presence in the Athens community for almost nine years and will undoubtedly remain and thrive for many years to come. Due to the business practices the shop chooses to abide by such as hiring from only within the community, offering locally baked goods, providing a space for local artists and musicians to perform, displaying brochures for local philanthropic groups, brewing only fair trade coffee products, and practicing sustainable recycle and waste methods, Donkey is exemplary of a successful sustainable business.

Roughly 65% of Donkey employees are Ohio University students, the remainder are Athenians, according to owner Chris Pyle. Employees go through extensive interviews, a main criteria being that he/she share the same values as Donkey exudes. Pyle not only hires locally, he also commissions local bakeries for all baked goods sold at Donkey (all except for the vegan cookies which are shipped to Athens). Bakery items are received from six local shops including Court Street’s Fluff.

Local and regional artists alike are invited to perform at, what is referred to as, the “backroom” at Donkey. This space, perfectly named, is located at the back of the 4,000-square-foot shop and provides a resting place for Athenians looking for good company and entertainment. The performances range from poetry slams to musicians to moviemakers. By visiting the website or venturing into the shop, one can book a date in the backroom. Events take place every Friday and Saturday night.

Groups that Donkey specifically sponsors include: American Red Cross, Appalachian Peace and Justice Network, Athens Conservatory, Good Works, Inc., Pregnancy Resource Center, and TransFair USA. According to their website, those at Donkey believe that these and other sponsored organizations are “doing a great job in our community to combat poverty and injustice and help us all move toward a better world.” These organizations range from human sustainability (American Red Cross) to environmental and economic sustainability (TransFair USA).

Donkey sells exclusively Fair Trade coffee. Fair trade, according to transfairusa.org, “empowers farmers and farm workers to lift themselves out of poverty by investing in their farms and communities, protecting the environment, and developing the business skills necessary to compete in the global marketplace.” Pyle purchases the beans for the shop from Dean’s Beans, a roaster who purchases certified fair trade coffee from Brazil. The fact that Pyle knows where his beans are from is a testament to just how community-oriented Donkey is. By advertising “Fair Trade”, the Donkey is advertising commitment to fair prices, fair labor conditions, direct trade, democratic and transparent organizations, community development, and environmental sustainability.

According to Pyle, ‘fair trade’ has become somewhat of a buzzword and various shops are advertising ‘fair trade’ coffee but it is not certified. “Our feeling is if you aren’t getting certified fair trade then farmers are really getting screwed,” Pyle said. “We hope everyone goes to fair trade but not at the expense of customers or the farmers.”

“To-go” cups such as refillable plastic mugs have recently gained popularity. Donkey has come up with a solution for those without a refillable mug but who plan to fill up their cup multiple times throughout the day. By spending an extra $0.40, the consumer receives a cup with a specific design drawn onto it by an employee and is able to return as many times as he/she would like throughout the day for a refill. This recycle practice potentially reduces the number of paper cups used by a consumer each day for periodic coffee fill-ups.

Paper cups used by Donkey are 100% compostable. Pyle hopes that all customers who take the to-go cup are either going to campus (where compost bins are placed) or able to find another compost station. Donkey recycles as many materials as possible and all compost that comes from the coffee grounds is used at local farms such as Good Earth Farms.

By employing such a variety of sustainable practices, Athens’ own Donkey Coffee and Espresso is proving to be a wonderful member of the world community.

Mythbusted

Currently, I am taking a class about the history of American baseball prior to 1930. The most interesting thing I have learned, thus far, is that baseball did not originate in Cooperstown, NY in 1839 as most Americans believe it did. In fact, the earliest references to base ball date back to the 1700s.

Generally, Americans latch onto the most enticing or comforting explanation of things; people believe what they want to believe. The American concept of 'wilderness' is just one of many in a list of myths we hold as truths.

Before reading Cronon's article, The Trouble with Wilderness, I had never really given much thought to the many dimensions of the idea of 'wilderness'. In fact, as far as I was concerned, 'wilderness' was just an ambiguous term for nature - a place where trees grew, underbrush was dense and people retreated for the weekend to swim, boat or hike.

Cronon documented the transition of beliefs about wilderness, breaking the process into three distinct eras:

As early as historians can tell, 'wilderness' was a romantic place filled with terrible awe. This early 19th-century belief proved to humble many early American settlers.

By the second half of the 19th-century, Americans felt comfortable and had sentimental attachments to the wilderness. Americans were passionate about the unexplainable beauty present in the uninhabited valleys and mountains.

Thus, 'wilderness' finally became a sacred part of the American ideal. Parks and preservations began to be marked off in an attempt to maintain some illusion of a frontier that, otherwise, seemed to be disappearing.

"To protect wilderness was in a very real sense to protect the nation's most sacred myth of origin," according to Cronon.

Americans are under the impression that their forefathers came to this vast land on a boat and were the first to roam and settle into all it had to offer.

False.

Many forget, Cronon explains, that Indians were forcibly removed from the picture to create a "uninhabited wilderness". Thus, we are reminded just how constructed the idea of an American wilderness really is.

In essence, the American idea of 'wilderness' is a construction of what Americans want to believe. (Just like the myth about the origins of baseball.)

After reading Cronon's article, my ideas about 'wilderness' have changed. I can now see that wilderness is the place we are in, not the places we are not/places we have not touched.

Cronon makes the point: "If nature dies because we enter it, the only way to save nature is to kill ourselves." Therefore, I have learned that human intervention does not prevent a place from being 'wilderness'. 'Wilderness' exists everywhere and it is our duty as part of that wilderness to honor and cohabit with it.

Hello...

My name is Lauren Stauffenger and I am a junior journalism major at Ohio University with a specialization in social work. I am originally from a small town in Northeast Ohio where many of my family and friends still reside. Growing up there, I learned a lot about community. That same sense of community is present in the small-town life of Athens, OH. I love it here, but cannot wait to see what else there is to see after I graduate.