Heidi Barr - In Search of Simple: Field Notes from Near and Far on Slow Living

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2023 TEXT BY HEIDI BARR & L.M. BROWNING

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Contents

| Heidi Barr

Heidi Barr

Gunilla Norris

Gail Collins-Ranadive

Stephen Drew

Joseph Little

Allison Sue Elliott

Juliana Aragn Fatula

Angie Kikstra

Cheryl Magyar

Krista OReilly-Davi-Digui

Ellie Roscher

Emma Scheib

Gail Straub

Heidi Barr

In Loving Memory of David K. Leff

I ts about pulling back to a place where you can find the breathing space to be free and human again. From that, all else follows, if you can pay attention.

PAUL KINGSNORTH

Introduction

W hat does it take to live simply? Sounds easy enough, but when we dig deeper into what drives the actions of human beings, it gets a little more complicated.

Were with Hank Lentfer when he says, I want to grow carrots not because agribusiness is a filthy, greedy, heartless beast, but because rooting in the dirt is fun, worms are groovy creatures, and you cant buy the sweet satisfaction of a fresh carrot at any price. I want to live a simple, rooted life not because a place of privilege feeds on other peoples poverty, but because meals of venison, potatoes, and berry pie fill our kitchen with gratitude-crazed grins. I want to leave the car in the driveway not because the carbon spilling from the exhaust will tip the planet into an inferno, but because a bike ride puts wind in your face and birdsong in your ears. It pumps blood through your veins and reminds us that life is a dizzyingly splendid idea.

Activist Jodie Evans once said, Be in the conversation, not the fight, and those seven words have stuck with us as a mantra to live by (when feasible). The destruction left behind by big Ag and fossil fuel culture, as well as the premise of living simply so that others can simply live, are all great reasons to change our ways. But what about joy as a reason to change? Lentfer speaks of living true to his values because of the joy he feels because of his actions. He acts from beauty and a love of life, not from fear or anger or revenge. He is in the conversation, and that conversation leaves room for possibility. There are surely times to fight, of course, since a conversation takes at least two willing participants, and that doesnt always happen. But when theres a choice? The conversation opens more doors and illuminates more pathways than a fight ever could.

What if we discovered that changing our ways could lead to more beauty and more joy than we thought possible? What if living life (simply) really is a dizzyingly splendid idea? Just think of what would happen if more of us grew carrots and felt the wind on our faces and let birdsong be the soundtrack to life.

This anthology explores what it can look like to seek out slow living and embrace a life steeped in intentionality. Whether its navigating grief to decluttering a home or habits to processing trauma, the writers in these pages have a wide variety of lived experiences and approach simple living differentlybut they all end up in the same place: living the life they are made to live. Youll move from Romania to Colorado to New Zealand to Minnesota to New England to Canada with these writers, and by doing so, youll see that there are folks in search of simple, scattered near and far. We hope this anthology inspires you to find the pace of life that sets you up to best contribute to the healing of the world.

Heidi Barr & L.M. Browning

A Case for Slow Living

Heidi Barr

Find solace in seasonal

rhythms of ritual, in ceremonies

of the ordinary.

Pull weeds, line-dry clothes, make jam,

walk to the mailbox.

There is much to savor

in slowness, when quality

of attention allows noticing

each detail

intimacy with soil

soft flutters of well-worn shirts

hands and berries creating together

grass getting dewy in moonlight.

Celebrate this stroll

through the everyday,

this chance

to do it differently,

to revel in the slowness

that allows you

to pay attention

to the way the breeze

blows softly across your face

carries seeds to new homes

converses with branches

dances with tall grass,

reminding you Earth

is a living, vibrant

breathing thing

of which you

are a part.

October Exhale

Heidi Barr

October 6. Ive just finished wiping off the jars of applesauce that I canned this morning. Late afternoon sunlight shines through the leaves, creating dancing shadows thanks to a brisk wind. Its not quite the peak of autumn color yet, but some trees are blazing red and orange. I like this time of year, despite feelings of busyness due to yard and garden work, the quest to acquire enough firewood, and winterizing things. Squashes are ripe, and there are still green vegetables to enjoy straight from the earth. It may freeze next week, so its been a time of roasting, freezing, and baking to preserve the harvest. Its a time of abundance even though time can feel scarce. I inhale and keep working.

October 12. The first snow of autumn is herejust a dusting thats melting as the evening air grows just warm enough. Wind whips my hair around my face when I venture outside for a few minutes, and the fully yellowed maples are quickly losing leaves. Everything is damp and a little droopy, but the freeze hasnt yet come. Peppers and tomatoes are still fruiting, and some have new blossoms, even this late in the season. Theyre hanging on despite the fact they wont reach maturity. Back inside the internet is down. This is a welcome, if not wanted, respite from too much virtual connection. An empty muffin tin waits on the counter for batter. The sky is flat gray, but tiny water droplets dot fallen leaves on the grass, each one a world in itself, a world of cyclical light, a world of transition and turning.