It sucks when it is 107 degrees in Austin, especially if you’re farming.
I thought I was going to die. I got there around 7am, and in about an hour it was at that point where the sun was uncomfortably hot on my face and arms. I fed and watered the chickens, removed fencing, and helped Chickenman move the electric fence. It was so freaking hot I almost started crying.
But I didn’t want Chickenman to think I was a lame-o. So I kept pushing on. I figured if I started hallucinating, I’d take a break.
Chickenman has often talked of using one’s “farmer brain.” I gather that the farmer brain is a problem solver that is deeply engaged with nature and refuses to take anything personally. Chickenman says that people don’t use their farmer brain in the city, but they should.
I wasn’t using my farmer brain.
I was moving the hose to the chickens’ new home and it was taking me for effing ever. I was tugging on the hose, backtracking to get it around trees, and sweating my ass off. I felt like a cartoon. It barely had enough room to connect by the time I finished.
When I was helping Chickenman with the fenceposts I couldn’t figure out the best way to get them out (which is pulling straight up), and then when Chickenman told me how, it seemed obvious. Also, I missed a few that Chickenman pointed out.
I asked him, “Does problem-solving come naturally to you, or did it develop after you got the farm?”
“Well,” he said, “I’m the oldest of five children.” Dammit. Oh well, hopefully it can be cultivated.
I felt tremendously insecure, and a little worried that I was actually a burden to Chickenman. When I went to visit later that night, I told him about that feeling, and he said, “I feel insecure too, no matter what face I may show to you.” He explained the nature of the learning process, of fucking up and then learning how to do it better, and how that process can be hindered by falling in love with your strategy. He cited examples.
Wow, I thought. I have to be more compassionate with myself while I’m learning. I was reminded of something I’d heard about from one of my professors — Imposter’s Syndrome. It’s the feeling that you’re not achieving anything and that you basically don’t deserve to. It’s particularly popular among women.
I’ve experienced it with my studies: “He gave me an ‘A’ on this paper? What a sucker!” Now, I’ve experienced it with farming. I’ve also seen it on other people. I recently asked some people to guest post on the Ethicurean, and the responses I received were kind of like, “Wow, I’d really like to, but I don’t think I could — y’all are so smart!”
We are not! We’re just trying to figure out our food, and anyone that is doing that, even to the smallest degree, is worthy of posting here. Although it helps if you can take really great food porn pictures.
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Humor:
August 23rd, 2006 at 11:58 am
This reminds me of a topic that I want to write about here–bad cooking, bad food. I kind of covered it in my post about “The Omnivore’s Ingredient.” We talk a lot about our great this that and the other, but don’t mention when we burn something to a crisp. I’m not sure how to inspire people to try cooking. I know how to inspire people to farm though–I’d have them read your posts, since they are so inspiring.
August 23rd, 2006 at 1:09 pm
“Imposter’s Syndrome”: what a relief to see it has a name. Thanks for the good work, as usual.
August 25th, 2006 at 5:27 pm
This reminds me of some of the best advice I’ve ever received: someone told me once that I have to give myself permission to learn. I sort of expect myself to be good at something right away and when I’m not I get frustrated and embarrassed.
January 24th, 2008 at 4:35 pm
We can only achieve what our self image will allow. If you would change your station, you must change your self image.
bd