Despite
living in the age of techno-wizardry wonders that promise to make our lives
less stressful, more people than ever say they feel more rushed, not less, in
their day-to-day lives.
That time pressure is a common experience is
evidenced by the fact that an increasing proportion of the population report
feeling short of time. Since 1965, the US time–use researcher John
Robinson has been asking adults, “Would you say you always feel rushed, even to
do things you have to do, only sometimes feel rushed, or almost never feel
rushed?” The proportion of Americans reporting that they always feel rushed
rose from 25 percent in 1965 to 35 percent forty years later. Almost half now
also say that they almost never have time on their hands. According to most
evidence, people perceive leisure time as scarcer and more hectic. And this is
also true cross–nationally, where there has been consistent historical growth
of busy feelings through the last part of the twentieth century.
Source: Judy
Wajcman, http://press.uchicago.edu/books/excerpt/2015/Wajcman_Pressed_for_Time.html,
opened 28 Feb. 2017
Perhaps
it is time to think again about the level of progress/development/industrialism
that we need, about returning to a slower, more agrarian lifestyle. Some words from the Japanese agrarian
Masanobu Fukuoka are worth considering.
We do not agree with all of his religious views, but overall he is very
close to the truth.
Simply Serve Nature and All Is Well
Extravagance of desire is the fundamental cause
which has led the world into its present predicament.
Fast rather than slow, more rather than less — this
flashy "development" is linked directly to society's
impending collapse. It has only served to separate man
from nature. Humanity must stop indulging the desire for
material possessions and personal gain and move instead
toward spiritual awareness.
Agriculture must change from large mechanical
operations to small farms attached only to life itself.
Material life and diet should be given a simple place. If this
is done, work becomes pleasant, and spiritual breathing
space becomes plentiful.
The more the farmer increases the scale of his
operation, the more his body and spirit are dissipated and
the further he falls away from a spiritually satisfying life. A
life of small-scale farming may appear to be primitive, but
in living such a life, it becomes possible to contemplate the
Great Way [the path of spiritual awareness which involves
attentive-ness to and care for the ordinary activities of daily life].
I believe that if one fathoms deeply one's own
neighborhood and the everyday world in which he lives,
the greatest of worlds will be revealed.
At the end of the year the one-acre farmer of long ago
spent January, February, and March hunting rabbits in the
hills. Though he was called a poor peasant, he still had this
kind of freedom. The New Year's holiday lasted about three
months. Gradually this vacation came to be shortened to
two months, one month, and now New Year's has come to
be a three-day holiday.
The dwindling of the New Year's holiday indicates
how busy the farmer has become and how he has lost his
easy-going physical and spiritual well-being. There is no
time in modern agriculture for a farmer to write a poem or
compose a song.
The other day I was surprised to notice, while I was
cleaning the little village shrine, that there were some
plaques hanging on the wall. Brushing off the dust and
looking at the dim and faded letters, I could make out
dozens of haiku poems. Even in a little village such as this,
twenty or thirty people had composed haiku and presented
them as offerings. That is how much open space people had
in their lives in the old days. Some of the verses must have
been several centuries old. Since it was that long ago they
were probably poor farmers, but they still had leisure to
write haiku.
Now there is no one in this village with enough time
to write poetry. During the cold winter months, only a few
villagers can find the time to sneak out for a day or two to
go after rabbits. For leisure, now, the television is the
center of attention, and there is no time at all for the simple
pastimes which brought richness to the farmer's daily life.
This is what I mean when I say that agriculture has become
poor and weak spiritually; it is concerning itself only with
material development.
Lao Tzu, the Taoist sage, says that a whole and decent
life can be lived in a small village. Bodhidharma, the
founder of Zen, spent nine years living in a cave without
bustling about. To be worried about making money,
expanding, developing, growing cash crops and shipping
them out is not the way of the farmer. To be here, caring
for a small field, in full possession of the freedom and
plentitude of each day, every day — this must have been the
original way of agriculture.
. . .
Source: The One-Straw Revolution, https://archive.org/stream/The-One-Straw-Revolution/The-One-Straw-Revolution_djvu.txt,
opened 28 Feb. 2017
Since
Fukuoka-san’s words strongly echo the life lived at typical Orthodox
monasteries, we have included a couple of pictures from one, the Holy Dormition
Dalmatovo Monastery in Western Siberia, http://www.pravoslavie.ru/foto/set1624.htm,
opened 28 Feb. 2017:
--
Holy
Ælfred the Great, King of England, South Patron, pray for us sinners at the
Souð!
Anathema
to the Union!
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