Recently, I got a headache after eating in the Marketplace. It wasn't the type of headache I was used to, and I had been feeling perfectly normal before the meal. I was well-rested, had even worked out the day before, the sun was shining; everything was great. So it puzzled me when a half hour later I was lying in bed, feeling crappy. It wasn't until then that I began to wonder what could have caused the situation. I thought back to what I had eaten; nothing terribly unhealthy as far as I could remember. The only thing unusual had been soy sauce. Dun dun dunnnn, the soy sauce. That's what had done it. I looked up the ingredients and low and behold! one of the byproducts of the fermentation process is mono-sodium glutamate (MSG). I knew that MSG and I don't typically get along, but I just hadn't thought about it before deciding to pour soy sauce all over my meal. The incident got me thinking about food and what it is we're putting into our bodies.
Even the most basic aspects of our lives are removed from our awareness. For instance, I don't really know anything about the food I consume. Who grew it? Where did it come from? What chemicals were used on it? I'm sure even as little as one hundred years ago (ok, maybe two hundred), this kind of ignorance was unheard of. People used to grow and raise their own food. Yes, I realize that things have changed in the name of progress and convenience, but I wonder if it has been a good thing. What have we really gotten out of this system? As a country, obesity levels have increased at an alarming rate. Only Colorado has a prevalence rate of less than 20% (http://www.cdc.gov/obesity/data/trends.html). Childhood diabetes is common as McDonalds. It's getting scary.
And it's not just food. Think about clothing, toiletries, notebooks, computers, the list goes on. Essentially every material object we possess came from somewhere. Every single item has a back story, from being grown overseas, shipped somewhere else to be processed, sent to a warehouse, and then distributed to stores, where people can drive over and pick one up for themselves (Yay!). How much CO2 was produced for me to have the pen sitting next to me? What rain forest was cleared, how many animals displaced for me to have this notebook? It's funny, but I wish for the time when people made their own things. I don't know if it's possible to be nostalgic about something I've never actually experienced, but that's as close as I can get to describing the feeling.
The other thing that keeps coming to mind is the Western concept of waste. Generally, people of Western cultures see time in a strictly linear way. You're born, you live, you die, the end. People see trash the same way; once you're done, you throw it away and it's gone forever. Wrong. When you throw something away, it's simply being sent somewhere else. It is still just as much in existence as you or me, it's still taking up space. This contrasts to a more Eastern philosophy, especially prevalent in Hinduism. Though I myself am not Hindu, I've learned a little bit about it and can really appreciate its teachings on reincarnation and the cyclical nature of time. This results in much more balanced (and sustainable) practices when it comes to consumption and waste. (In theory, at least; I'm not going to tell you that places where most people are Hindu aren't polluted). The Iroquois also had similar notions. Within their rules for governing it was stated that before a decision could be made, it's impact on the next seven generations must be reviewed. This kind of thinking is ideal when it comes to sustainable practices. I'm not really sure where I'm going with this, or how this can be utilized, but I've just been thinking about it a lot recently. Overall, people need to stop placing so much importance on convenience now, and start looking at the big picture.
And it's not just food. Think about clothing, toiletries, notebooks, computers, the list goes on. Essentially every material object we possess came from somewhere. Every single item has a back story, from being grown overseas, shipped somewhere else to be processed, sent to a warehouse, and then distributed to stores, where people can drive over and pick one up for themselves (Yay!). How much CO2 was produced for me to have the pen sitting next to me? What rain forest was cleared, how many animals displaced for me to have this notebook? It's funny, but I wish for the time when people made their own things. I don't know if it's possible to be nostalgic about something I've never actually experienced, but that's as close as I can get to describing the feeling.
The other thing that keeps coming to mind is the Western concept of waste. Generally, people of Western cultures see time in a strictly linear way. You're born, you live, you die, the end. People see trash the same way; once you're done, you throw it away and it's gone forever. Wrong. When you throw something away, it's simply being sent somewhere else. It is still just as much in existence as you or me, it's still taking up space. This contrasts to a more Eastern philosophy, especially prevalent in Hinduism. Though I myself am not Hindu, I've learned a little bit about it and can really appreciate its teachings on reincarnation and the cyclical nature of time. This results in much more balanced (and sustainable) practices when it comes to consumption and waste. (In theory, at least; I'm not going to tell you that places where most people are Hindu aren't polluted). The Iroquois also had similar notions. Within their rules for governing it was stated that before a decision could be made, it's impact on the next seven generations must be reviewed. This kind of thinking is ideal when it comes to sustainable practices. I'm not really sure where I'm going with this, or how this can be utilized, but I've just been thinking about it a lot recently. Overall, people need to stop placing so much importance on convenience now, and start looking at the big picture.
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