Urban Adaptation

Sustainable urban living, rural dreams, and daily change for a homemade life.

And then there was rice…

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When I started on this path, as it were, I had pretty much one thing on my mind (or a few things, all linked together, sort of).  I wanted a farm.  I wanted chickens and ducks and sheep and a woodstove and fireplace and a big garden and a small office filled with books that I could write from and a couch on which I could doze off every now and again when the chores were done and I could grab a few minutes to myself.

But as I read yet more about the state of the world, things started to shift.  I wanted to be sure that I could take care of myself and the people I loved where I could if I had to.  I wanted to make the space I was in suit what we needed now instead of waiting for some future that might or might not come.

In part, these changes are rooted in fear.  I think it’s disingenuous to say otherwise.  I’m concerned about keeping warm and clean and fed.  I worry that someday there won’t be water in the pipes, food in the grocery store, heat in the apartment, or money in the bank.

But I also don’t want my life ruled by fear, and so I try to see the changes that I make as empowering, even if the actions I take and the things I do are rooted at least partially in being afraid.  I try to remember that given the situation I’m being as proactive as I can be right now, and that I’m still making choices to act in ways that I think are useful and that will be helpful in the future.

Today, I bought two 8 kilo bags of rice on sale.  I noticed the sale yesterday, but didn’t have enough hands (or strength) to carry them along with the other groceries.  So today, I went back for two bags.  It took about 45 minutes to do, since I needed to take the bus part way home (they were very difficult to carry while walking), and I feel better with them parked in the kitchen.

I can see the rice as being a product of fear, and be reminded of it every time I go into the kitchen, or cook, or (to be honest) every time I trip over it, which I will, given the present state of my kitchen.  Or I can see it as something that will help me, and as a way of pushing that fear a little deeper while also using it to make changes for the long run.  Some days it’s harder than others, but I’m really working on the latter.

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Written by Jenn

March 28, 2011 at 11:26 pm

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