How Not to be a Zombie (Alternate Take)
It’s Friday evening but in corona-time, it’s just another night. Nowhere to go, nothing to do, and nothing to eat in the house. So you think. At least Whole Foods is open. Guess I’ll just go grab something from the hot bar.
Grabbing your keys and wallet, you remember to yank the trash bag out of the can to toss in the dumpster on your way out. Your housemate has been on your case to take out the trash already. Pain in the ass you mutter to yourself, with her Venn diagrams of chores. You go out the back door to the alley, toss the bag in the bin chained to the fence, and stretch your arms overhead, enjoying the balmy spring evening, not without a tinge of anxiety. Climate change.
Suddenly you realize something. Not only is the night unseasonably warm, it’ss quiet. Really quiet. Hear a pin drop quiet. It feels different, profound somehow, deep and true. I don’t want to go out, you realize. This is too nice, the quiet.
You go back inside and start rummaging around the kitchen cabinets looking for something to eat. Huh. There’s more here than I thought. Where’d all these cans of beans come from? A little shamefully, you remember all the stuff you bought in preparation for the last "big snow" that didn’t materialize, and the one before that. Spying a can of Eden lentils, you recall the dal recipe you bookmarked. You unearth a bag of Trader Joe’s sprouted red rice from behind a stack of gluten free Ramen. A quick raid of the fridge reveals a couple of carrots and red onions kicking around in the crisper bin, a few Yukon golds, and a jar of curry paste almost hidden under a pile of wasabi packets. Hmm. Almost there. Then you spot your housemate’s stash of garlic and ginger she’s been eating like crazy for her immune system. She won't mind if I just use a little, I'll leave her a container of this dal.
You power up Spotify to listen to some tunes while you cook, but you’re tired of your playlists so you let it roll out a random mix. Swirling some sunflower oil in a pan you think, man when was the last time I did this? The ginger, garlic, and curry hit the hot oil and the smell is heaven. Sauté. You add some carrot slices and chunks of potato, then the lentils, salt, cover and simmer. Easy! While you're stirring the rice around in a bowl to rinse it, Spotify spins out a song, the song you were trying to remember the other day. The one you were listening to on that solo road trip across Montana years ago, that song that made you feel like...like...YOU.
Damn. Maybe I should stay home more often.
After dishing up a nice hearty plate of your homemade comfort food, you sit down and start scrolling the usual stream of bullshit. Oh hang on. Where’s that podcast I wanted to listen to? The one about growing food in forests. Here it is.
As you are finishing up your second plate in a deliciously relaxed state of mind, your housemate staggers in, clutching several full shopping bags. "Hey, how’s it going?" you ask while taking your dish over to the sink to wash. It’s like she’s too tired even to speak. She drops her bags and leans against the door frame, looking like one of the Marines at Iwo Jima, the one on the bottom holding the flag-raiser up. "I went to Whole Foods and it was a freaking zoo," she says, sighing. "I bought all this stuff to cook, and now I don’t even have the energy."
You know how it feels. "Here, I made this dal. I didn’t have all the ingredients, but I improvised. It’s pretty good. Want some?"
She nods yes. Smiles. You dish some up for her. You haven’t been getting along, but it doesn’t matter right now. "I used some of your ginger and garlic, you say, feeling like now is a good time to fess up. "Fair trade for this dal," she replies, "it’s tasty." Spotify spins out a new song. "Hey," she says, perking up. "Good tune!"
"Yeah, I was just listening to the really interesting podcast. This professor is saying how we can grow more food in these forests of edible plants. It’s way better for the planet. Wanna hear it?"
"Sure," she says. "Good to know there’s people coming up with solutions. All this bad news, it’s like there’s nothing else."
Sitting there with your friend, in the quiet night, quietly digesting your meal, listening, learning, you realize something with a clarity you haven't felt in a very long time
You are not alone.
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At Sueño de Vida we work in a meaningful way to heal land ravaged by deforestation. How meaningful? According to a recent UN Foresight Brief on climate change,
--It is of the utmost importance to stop deforestation and to increase reforestation efforts around the world. Agricultural practices should focus on soil building, year-round soil cover with plants and the use of agroforestry methods.
That is exactly what we do here at SdV. You can help by helping us do what we do every day: plant forests that nurture soil, people, and community.
Click HERE to donate directly to our reforestation fund OR make a monthly pledge on our Patreon.
Kristen Krash is the director and co-founder of Sueño de Vida, a regenerative agroforestry farm, education center, nature reserve in Ecuador’s Chocó Andino Cloudforest. Prior to moving, Kristen was known for her guerrilla gardens — productive green spaces she created in any available space. Now an urban transplant in the South American rain forest, she has adapted her urban gardening and sustainability skills to large-scale reforestation of degraded land. She takes a practical and accessible approach to helping others achieve more balance and self-sufficiency in their lives.
Kristen’s articles and interviews have been featured on popular sustainability platforms like Abundant Edge and The Mud Home, and in the Rainforest Regeneration Curriculum at the Ecological Restoration Camps.
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