The Path to Change

There’s a certain spike of interest (also known as dopamine) in novel experiences. If you love your new job, but never gain new responsibilities and instead practice the same motions day in and day out, you’re most likely going to get sick of that job you thought was the best thing since sliced bread.
(On an unrelated note… why is sliced bread so great?? I actually love having a loaf of bread and just breaking off chunks or slicing it myself. *Shrug*)

This can be compared to the cases of alcohol/drug tolerance: the more often you do something, the neurotransmitters in a sense wear out and you need more of the input to get the output. The more you do something you like, generally (with the exception of reverse tolerance), the more you need of it to produce the same initial reaction. So humans are always seeking new experiences. That is why the concept of contrast can be found in human enjoyment.  You need a bit of negativity to realize and appreciate the good. The rainbow after the storm. The yin and the yang. Comparisons to produce difference reactions to novel experiences. It can be more notable when the contrast of experiences is stronger too. I’ve been experiencing these contrasts so rapidly that it makes this whole journey of traveling this year incredible. I go from extreme joy of finding a place in nature to explore to extreme disappointment when I see a troubled and polluted city. I go from high gratefulness of meeting likeminded strangers to intense loneliness when I miss my old friends and family. Going from one WWOOFing farm to the next, seeing the contrasts in their organic farming practices is another example. It’s all been incredible. Or, rather, it’s all been resulting in lots of brain activity and intense fluctuations in dopamine and serotonin production.

The contrasts I’ve been feeling have put me in this hectic cycle of happy and sad, but in a way this uncertainty is predictable and I know that my sorrow is always short lived, always followed by joy.  And the more I immerse myself in negativity, the more I’m forced to learn to swim in it. It sounds like I’m quoting holy scriptures when I refer to Wookiefoot’s poetry, but in a way they feel sacred to me. So here comes another line: “Sometimes you’ll find yourself adrift. And sometimes you’ll be adrift and find yourself.”  How true is that?!  I’ve learned to deal with heartache like I’ve never felt before. One of my missions on this trip was to master the art of persuasion so that people might pick up some earth-friendly habits as I meet them. And the most important thing about persuasion is not to tell people what to do, but to inspire them to want to do what’s best. “With a ‘should do this!’ and a ‘should do that!’ everybody’s just trying to do good. But how many ‘shoulds’ would a good man say if he could stop would he stop shoulds?” More wise words from Wook. Promoting critical thinking, not indoctrinating, is the only way to the truth. “If we don’t nurture nature then we’re just wrecking our own future.”

Anyway, back to contrasts. I’ve found myself “cheating” on my diet by picking up easily accessible fast food on the road or splurging with friends on processed food. But the guilt eats away at me… it bleeds into the pain of seeing the poor folks forced into eating junk in food deserts. Whenever I do get a meal straight from a garden, I’m overcome with joy and appreciation. Why don’t I strive for this feeling every single time I want food? It’s because of the novelty and dopamine. Apathy seeps in and it’s like my appetite for shitty food takes over just so I can remind myself of why I like the fresh garden veggies so much more. Additionally, junk food is literally a drug, so there’s an addiction piece to that too.  It also makes “cheating” so much easier when billions of people are doing it. Approximately $75 MILLION a day are spent at McDonald’s (not to mention $13 million of that is profit…. PER DAY). My boycotting McDonald’s is only resulting in pocket change (no… pocket lint) lost in their business. I’m not going to put an end to commercial factory farming by not eating at McDonald’s... so what’s the big deal if I get a cheeseburger there once in a while so I can use their wifi? I say this literally as I’m sitting in the corner of a damn McDonald’s with a sugary iced coffee half drank next to my laptop. I feel disgusting.  (Going back to Wook’s line about ‘shoulds’…) “Don’t get me wrong, I’m the king of it. Just a little bit hippie hypocrite winging it. Sometimes thinking that I’m knowing everything of it and putting my should inside a song and singing it.” The guilt doesn’t last long because I’m back to feeling complacent when my next meal comes from the local farmer’s market. This contrast is a toxic one. I refuse to accept my “sins” with the mindset of “some kind man was nailed to some boards thousands of years ago thus washing me of all my strikes against my own values.”  That’s such a copout. Own your shit. Jesus’ existence saved you from guilt, not your sins. I know I can’t un-ring a bell, but I can sure learn from the past and keep putting my best foot forward. This won’t be my last time in McDonald’s probably, but it will surely serve as an example of how life is like a rollercoaster. We’re not perfect, but I strive every day to be a better version of myself than I was yesterday.

On a more positive note (abruptly changing the direction of the ride for funsies), I should mention my time at the last two farms I was at. The Art Farm is a project I assisted when I was staying in York, Pennsylvania. The project is run by two people living on a quarter-acre of land on a city block in the middle of town (in a rather sketchy neighborhood) where their entire yard is one big “food forest.” They have an art studio and a personal bike workshop on their property, and own a plot of land at a larger co-op farm just outside the city called the Horn Farm Center for Agricultural Education. These two have so far been the most environmentally conscious, community driven people I’ve met on my entire trip. No running refrigerator, no hot running water, no washer/dryer, no cars…. Nearly everything was human powered. I felt so uncomfortable when I got there. Going against the main stream in a city like York felt like resisting the undertow of the Mississippi. However, drowning in discomfort I found myself keeping my head above water once I started biking everywhere in town (if only to not look bad in front of my hosts). I biked almost every other day to the out-of-town farm, which was about 18 miles round trip with some pretty gnarly hills. It felt so good! I could feel myself getting in better shape. Then to come ‘home’ after a hot day and hose myself off (my only practical means for a shower) and chow down on some tomato basil soup from that day’s harvest reaffirmed my ability to adapt. I was so happy to work with people who are so passionate about people and the environment--they donate 1/3 of their produce to shelters and needy families, another 1/3 goes to trading, and the other 1/3 is to pay bills. No profit necessary; everything is taken care of, what more do you need? At the end of my stay, one of the hosts and I had a conversation about the potential uses for me if I were to come back after my journey around the States. Options included running (and living in) the volunteer/community bike workshop, a paid position as the farm manager at the Horn Farm, a paid position as a teacher/leader at the Horn Farm doing things like leading school fieldtrips/tours/summer camps in an environmental learning center atmosphere. My excitement for these enticing opportunities couldn’t be contained when I left.

The next farm was near Gettysburg called Mud College Farm run by a young gentleman who inherited a buttload of land from his grandparents (“buttload” is the dedicated word for “I don’t remember how many acres he said but it was a lot”). The contrast was very apparent when I entered the property, an old civil war house complete with wireless internet and all the modern amenities that was lacking at the Art Farm. The animals roamed the yard from sun up to sun down, including 13 chickens, 6 ducks, and 2 goats. For my WWOOF work I helped in the garden, taking care of the animals, and making improvements on the house and property—which was built in and used for the civil war. It was pleasant being there and the effort was definitely there to start a self-sustainable homestead. Some things seemed too modern for me though—like a clothes dryer, use of lots of running water (which I guess was pulled from a well, but less water conservation practices in place), a tractor and lots of vehicle use, etc. Not that anything is inherently wrong with those things, especially when they stand alone, but since I’ve been on farms where nearly every action is environmentally conscious, it’s hard to go back to the main stream.

The most contrasted thing at this moment is my arrival in Washington D.C. Talk about modernity! My couchsurfing host would probably shun me for asking “where do you keep your compost?” or “what are your passive solar habits like?” Now, I’ve learned to swim upstream so well that I’m drowning in the flow of the main current. So much cognitive dissonance. I haven’t even explored the city yet… that’s tomorrow. We’ll see if I can hold my tongue and enjoy the experience of being here. The concrete jungle is quite overwhelming though, so it won’t be easy!

WWOOFing in York, PA at the Horn Farm Center with a fellow intern from Australia!

Tomatoes are silly. I mistook this one for a rubber ducky.

I love the gradient that plants make. You can see exactly how the nutrients get distributed.

My most recent WWOOF host and I at the Mud College farmstead. We were pals, I'm gonna miss that dude.

Thanks to my iNaturalist app, I snapped a picture of this weird phenomenon and discovered this sphinx moth caterpillar was taken over by wasp eggs! Apparently, wasps inject their parasitic eggs into the skin of these caterpillars and the larvae feed on the host until it dies. Nature is....intense.

I recently tried duck eggs and they were delicious. These cute little dudes followed me around a lot when I was there.

Poor Herman needed some medicine so we made an interesting routine of playing "capture the goat" for a couple nights. Clover (pictured behind the fence) would get so concerned about her buddy.

Hens are friends, not food. ♥

Remember that whether you're in the midst of positive or negative times, the other side is always coming your way. So ride the roller coaster and make peace with it. The mind is so bittersweet and beautiful. Much love to you all.