crisis of faith

* our first sunflower of the year!

i feel as though i have been separated from this blog. it has been a few days, but not that long. i feel as though it has been weeks, months, years since i have written you. illness has been a barrier to my cause here (a stomach virus running virulently through my house and my father’s subsequent heart problems have distracted me).

but it feels like more, oh no, it feels like i have had a crisis of faith. i have had moments when i have felt weak. initially, i had a great moment, a revelation. i saw the light and all was clear. the church bells were ringing and my head was screwed on straight. the light streamed down from the heavens and the almighty smiled upon me with streaming rays of fractured light broken through the clouds. he spoke to me, “you shall not indulge in the disaster that is the modern world, this plastic, consuming, wasteful society.” and the earth shook and so did my knees. this powerful vision lifted the polyester veil off my eyes and revealed to my heart my mission and gave my fists the power to lift up in defiance against the mad, speed driven, hungry, angry world. and i gave my howard dean scream....

my focus was so clean and clear, (especially when my daughter wasn’t here). i gardened, i cooked, i canned. then i started getting deeper into it. cant waste food. cant waste food. must save... so i bought jars and started canning. made butter, yogurt, some cheese, granola.... and more. more time and energy was put into preparing food. more research done. now there seems to be less time to spend with my family. when i die, just pickle me then landfill me. the refuse of our great society will entomb me and i will last longer than Tutankhamen.

fun, fun, where did the fun go? the truth is i really enjoy cooking and being mindful and poking fun at myself for trying. but then a day comes where there is so much plastic being used and dumped that it feels like an avalanche burying my faith, suffocating my passion. today i wanted to take a picture of all the plastic that my family threw away, but i thought it would be too depressing. we went to see my father in the hospital. in the name of cleanliness, to stem the spread of any vaguely potential disease, plastic cups were disposed of left and right. and here goes my mea culpa, my liberal guilt, my lash myself on the back with plastic pokey things till i feel the flush of pain. i didn’t have my cup, and i didn’t even try to make sure everyone even kept their own or tried to mark each one. nothing. i did nothing as cup after cup went in the waste basket, filling up faster than you can say armageddon. (ok, so i like hyperbole, shoot me with a nuclear missile.)

but really, i felt so glad my father was well, (and a little shell shocked at the thought of his demise), i seemed sideswiped by this new chain of events. i realized how my own lack of preparedness lead me to this place. why didn’t i even have a cup with me? if i can’t remember, who can?

i talked to my husband and told him that i was resolved to hook my cup to my pants. he said it would be unwieldy. i said so what? he said, i would like to have a bag with a plate, cup and utensils in it. and just have it all the time, like a pocketbook, handbag sort of thing. wow! the lights lit brighter, the angels started to sing in my ear again.

of course i had tried an earlier version of this, but i kept the bag in the car, and only took it out when i knew i was going to eat. that put the guerilla eating events on the attack. i was often unprepared for such events, just as the hospital visit had derailed me.

but now i am newly excited and motivated (and have a new lease on life along with my father). now i will be sewing and saving some fabric from the landfill and making my own bags with pockets for dishes and silverware and a cup. i must get on my sewing horse and fly now.