Who Gets To Do This? And Why?

Fourteen years ago when we first set foot on the five acres we now call home, we were smitten. Mt. Adams, the 12,281’ high volcano sat directly in front of what was to become the site for the house. Pine woods on three sides gave the property a tucked in feel, and would provide protection from the winds that can frequent our valley. Sitting at just under 2000 feet, we were guaranteed all four seasons. Standing together and taking it all in, we began to envision building the home that we had first imagined over a bottle of wine, on the back of a cocktail napkin, the year our youngest daughters went off to college.

It was hard to fathom that we might actually be able to realize our long held dream of building a rustic home, east of the mountains, where we could live and that we could share with family and friends. I mean who gets to do that? And why?

Slowly the house took shape as we split our time between the city where our jobs were, and this piece of ground where our hearts were.

Sitting on the porch with my coffee 13 years ago, I continued to wonder, who gets to do this? And why?

2008

Thirteen years later, sitting on the porch with my coffee, I continue to ponder, who gets to do this? And why?

2021

Living here, having created the place that we hope to call home for years to come, is an unbelievable gift. I’ve never felt that we owned it. It is ours to steward, share, and make use of for the good of many. A safe haven and refuge for all who come here, and a place from which to imagine and work for a more just, loving, and inclusive world.

After this past year, I am starkly aware of the immeasurable, culturally inherent privilege granted to us that has made this dream of ours possible.

And to whom much is given, much is required.

Going Without

I am currently in the middle of a two-week cleanse. Today is the second day of consuming only water and diluted vegetable and fruit juices. Sometimes we do something for one reason only to to find out that there are other discoveries to be made along the way. In this case I set out to reap the benefits for my physical health and well being, and was surprised to uncover the value to be found in the act of going without.

I love good food. Shopping for it, cooking it, sharing it, and of course, eating it. Nothing wrong with that. However, as I am noticing during these days of caloric restriction, I take food, not to mention abundant, healthy, fresh, delicious, and readily accessible food for granted. As I experience a few mild hunger pangs, I am reminded of just how much I don’t like being hungry, and when I am there is an easy fix always at the ready. The refrigerator is full of good food, the pantry stocked, grocery stores and farm stands are within easy reach, and should I find myself on an empty stomach during a day in town, there are restaurants offering delicious take-out.

Hunger is simply not an issue for me.

The hunger games however, are real.

About 1 in 10 people in the world experience chronic hunger. Even before the COVID-19 crisis hit, hunger was a daily reality for millions of our fellow citizens. While the pandemic may limit some of the foods I typically purchase, I will not be among those who, already accustomed to hunger as a way of life, will be even more deeply impacted by food shortages and food deserts. By some estimates, COVID-19 could double world hunger rates. The inequity in pay received for work done is under even brighter light as many workers, now deemed essential, must continue to subsist on less than a living wage. Those without work face an even bleaker picture.

There is enough food produced on the planet to feed 1.5 x the world population. It is a solvable problem. We all have a part to play. Exactly what that part is, I’m not sure. What I do know, in part for having chosen to go without for a very short time, is that being well fed is a privilege. But it shouldn’t be.

Photo by Magda Ehlers from Pexels

Privilege

It was a bucket list trip for the two of us. With the writing of a check for our remaining balance, we were off for five days in the wilderness as seen from the back of a horse. Along with the finances to even be able to afford such a thing, to make this trip happen required two wranglers, four horses, and five, yes that’s right, five pack mules, to haul all of the gear to feed, shelter, and shuttle us through some of the most beautiful terrain we’ve ever seen.

As we headed out from the Wallowa Lake Pack Station and hit the trail, the sight of the mules carrying the load so that we could have a bucket list trip brought one, and only one, word to mind…

Privilege.

The mules were the unsung hero of the trip, as step after steady step, they bore the weight for our journey.

How often do others bear the weight so that I don’t have to?

How many unsung heroes do the work that others won’t so that I can have an easier life?

How often do I neglect to recognize that life is only possible because of the unseen work of others?

The memories of this once-in-a-lifetime-trip will be with me forever. So, I hope, will the image of the mules that made it all possible.