While I finally took some time last night to catch up on my foodie reading, I was moved by Tana Butler's entry over at I Heart Farms to revisit Wendell Berry's essay, Think Little. Berry is prolific, to say the least, but I think this essay has to be the single most powerful piece of his writing I've read. And lucky for you, the full text is here on the internet for your reading pleasure (a little unwiedly, yes, but you can use that as an excuse to buy yourself the book).
It recently occurred to me that, over the last year or so, my interest in food has sort of morphed from a fairly superficial love of a good eating experience to something decidedly more political. As happens with a lot of things, once I examined my food choices closely, I found that feeling good about what I eat involves much more than I originally thought.
At first, the idea was to treat my own body better -- more healthy, whole foods and fewer artificial ingredients and chemicals. Okay, but it raised an important question: what is the good of taking care of my body if I don't recognize its place in space? That is, is it necessarily better to eat things that might be good for my body if they're bad for the world my body inhabits?
I think it was right around the time I started asking these questions that I picked up The Omnivore's Dilemma and first saw reference to Berry's essays, Think Little in particular. Needless to say, the piece struck a chord.
...the change of mind I am talking about involves not
just a change of knowledge, but also a change of attitude toward our essential
ignorance, a change in our bearing in the face of mystery. The principle
of ecology, if we will take it to heart, should keep us aware that our
lives depend upon other lives and upon processes and energies in an interlocking
system that, though we can destroy it, we can neither fully understand
nor fully control. And our great dangerousness is that, locked in our selfish
and myopic economics, we have been willing to change or destroy far beyond
our power to understand. We are not humble enough or reverent enough.
Reading about the effects of our industrial food chain on the population and the environment had upset me almost to a point of paralysis, where I thought there was no possible way my weekly grocery trip could really affect change. But reading this essay made me feel a bit better about my smallness. How could I not find comfort in Berry's simple but profound belief that "a person who undertakes to grow a garden at home, by practices
that will preserve rather than exploit the economy of the soil, has set
his mind decisively against what is wrong with us"?
So I have started owning up to my choices, and food has acquired an important secondary significance. it's not just a means of nourishing myself, but it can (and should) also be a tool to nourish the planet. It's overwhelming sometimes to try to circumvent our conventional means of cultivating and purchasing food, but I think the idea behind the Think Little philosophy is to embrace our agency as individuals and teach our peers by example, because when a lot of people think little, it can create big change.