Carefree Summer

Lately I've been frustrated by all the things on my growing to-do list.

It seems we have a variety of responses to having too much on our plates, but for right now I'm frustrated. I don't mind so much having ten thousand things to do in the winter....but summer...it just seems like a crappy time to be preoccupied with a to-do list that's too long to get done.

I was trying to put my finger on why it irritates me so much to be overly busy in the summer...part of it is the short period of time of great weather, part of it is the fact that I've had a few overly busy summers in a row, but part of it seems related to this idyllic notion of summer that I have.

Summer to me is supposed to be carefree.

It's supposed to be that time where responsibilities and work and all the demands just get set aside for playing. I think this is a pattern most of us develop when we're young - work hard during the school year, but cut loose during the summer. Wake up and find a new adventure each day. No plans, no places you have to be...

I miss that. I miss the memory I have of it anyway...I realize that part of the glory may just be nostalgia, and its perfection may be a function of remembering.

But it makes me wonder about the heaviness I feel in my not-so-carefree life these days. I feel careworn instead.

Maybe some of it is self-imposed. Maybe I feel the weight of responsibility when I buy into illusions of life that make things heavier than they need to be. Illusions of permanence. Illusions about myself and my false sense of omnipotence and importance.

Maybe having my butt kicked to the curb by life lately is actually a gift. Maybe losing some battles in life can remind us that what we've been working so hard for, is actually not so important.

When things started to come apart in my professional life a few months ago, I had the wisdom (occasionally) of stopping and listening. Trying to sense the Spirit's voice in the midst of my sadness and anger. All I could hear was "don't get lost in the details". I wasn't exactly sure of what that meant. It seemed to be a reminder that the details weren't so important...but I neglected the first part..."don't get lost".

It's easy for us to "get lost"; to be emotionally and mentally far away from our true identity, the true sources of our value, the truly important and meaningful things in life.

In my desire to have a care-free summer, I've been hoping for a removal of difficult and pressing things. It's the typical North American mindset - that happiness is the absence of suffering or strain. But the truth is that to be carefree is not to have the demands of my life disappear, but rather, it requires me to re-orient my relationship to those demands, seeing them for what they really are, and not taking them at face value or getting sucked into their traps.

To be carefree (not careless) is perhaps ultimately about "not getting lost in the details", about re-aligning our perspective to the bigger realities of life. That we are valued because God has infused us with value as his creation, his children, his friends. That most of life is fleeting and temporary and that all that really matters is to love God and love the things God loves. That the world is ultimately a safe place, not a place where everything works out how we want it, or place that's free from suffering, but a place but a place where God will not be thwarted in his work of redeeming all of creation.

My carefree, or at least not careworn summer is available if I choose it. If I choose to believe and act as if I believe certain things about the world. If I refuse to get lost in the details.

Postscript:  ....and my anger about the people who did this to me? Well, I think I can avoid becoming bitter if I recognize that the things they've taken are not of ultimate importance, and that they can never take away the things that really matter in life.

Norman Wirzba Extended Interview

As part of my ongoing thinking about our relationships to food, I've been including the great thinking about this topic from Norman Wirzba.

I found a great clip here of him summarizing the body of work he's done in the theology of food.

Norman Wirzba Extended Interview

Hope you enjoy it as much as I did.
 

Members? or Consumers?

A few weeks ago I blogged about the journey I'm beginning in being attentive to food. I've started paying more deliberate attention to my relationship to food, where it comes from, how my food choices impact others, and where food fits in my life.

It's been enlightening to read Norman Wirzba's book:
Food and Faith; A Theology of Eating

Wirzba suggests that we require a fundamental reorientation of our relationships with the rest of the world. Rather than being consumers, we need to become aware of ourselves as members of a created order.

It seems that our primary way of relating to many things in life is now as consumers. In her thoughtful work Monoculture, F.S. Michaels suggests that the dominance of the economic worldview, has shaped us into people who relate and interact primarily in terms of consumption. For more on this see my most recent post "One Story".

But what could be problematic about interacting with food this way? Shouldn't we view food as a consumable? Isn't food just a fuel source to allow us, the pinnacle of evolved beings, the opportunity to live our lives according to our own consciences?

The problem according to Wirzba, is that relating to food solely as consumers, removes us from the complex web of interdependence we have with the rest of nature. Putting it bluntly, Wirzba reminds us that our eating requires the death of other organisms. We count on the death and birth cycles of life for our survival. We may have removed ourselves from our food so far that we only experience it coming from boxes. But this only perpetuates an illusion, an illusion that our eating has no impact. The illusion that we humans are independent and self-sufficient.

The reality is that we are members of a complex system of elements, of an ecology. Our ignorance or denial of this membership leads us to make many reckless and destructive choices. Our wealth insulates us from some of the consequences, for now.

But as Wirzba, and Wendell Berry, and many other important voices are reminding us, we live these detached lives, these lives which deny our interconnectedness with the rest of creation, not only at the peril of others who are more vulnerable in the world, but also at our own peril. Whenever we pretend to be self-sufficient and independent, we live an incomplete, false existence, one which stumbles into the realm of idolatry and ultimately self-destruction.

The word "whole" shares it's common Latin root with the word "holy". So when we relate to food as consumers only, and not as members of the created order, our lives become fragmented, detached, or "unholy". Whether you identify with the religious language of "holiness", or you prefer the popular culture's term of "holistic health", either way we must recognize the need to see ourselves as interconnected parts, rather than self-reliant individuals....members, not just consumers.