Ty’r Eithin

Last time I was in the U.K., I stayed as a wwoofer on a beautiful biodynamic farm in the welsh hills. I slept in a little attic room up a ladder, worked on the farm, and cooked and ate with the other young people.

The farm was part of a community network of shared gardens, where many people shared the labour and helped to provide organic vegetables to families in the area. Ty’r Eithin’s gardens alone fed 60 families —a box of vegetables a week, each, for a year.

This is the best kind of food, food that is better than medicine.

In the mornings, I fed and watered the cows, and in the afternoons I worked in the gardens. I helped tether out the goats, shovelled enormous quantities of manure, helped catch a woolly and muscular ram, made music, went morris dancing, dug weeds, discussed philosophy. It was heaven.

The people whom I met there believed all sorts of things – there were vegetarians, pescetarians, and animal rights’ activists, adherents of Taoism and paganism, advocates of Rudolf Steiner, pseudo-Christians and nonconformists… They were all committed to a natural lifestyle. They were all united by a love and respect for the land.

There is something about simple farm work, I think, that can heal almost anything. At Ty’r Eithin, after a long period of mental darkness, I found the sunshine gradually seeping back into my bones.

The farm was a few hundred years old, and there was a quiet wisdom in its fields and stones.

The robust but elderly gentleman who owned it was also full of wisdom; he and his wife had decided to make it a place where young people could come and experience nature and living close to the earth.

“Most people come here looking for an escape,” he said, “—escape from all the pressures and all the damage of a consumerist society. And that’s okay, and it's important. But in the end we should not be trying to escape. We should be starting something new. We must work together, work from the bottom up, to build something that will contribute new life to the world.”

as aardvarks

“Remember this, for it is as true as true gets: 

Your body is not a lemon. 

You are not a machine. 

The Creator is not a careless mechanic. 

Human female bodies have the same potential to give birth well as aardvarks, lions, rhinoceri, elephants, moose, and water buffalo. 

Even if it has not been your habit throughout your life so far, I recommend that you learn to think positively about your body.” 

― Ina May Gaskin

welcome!

There are so many splendid things happening these days— natural products, organic food, interest in sustainability, recycling, up-cycling, alternative and off-the-grid living, local business and community cooperation, fair trade initiatives, green living, permaculture, urban gardening, farmer’s markets, environmentally friendly movements of all kinds. 

It’s so exciting! There is no other generation I’d rather be part of!

We are finding new, creative approaches towards our lifestyles and how we treat the earth.

It’s also time for a new, creative approach to how we treat our bodies.

Like many, I struggled with depression and eating disorders in my teens and early twenties. I suppose that when you are prone to anxious, obsessive, repetitive thoughts they can take anything as a focus; for me, it was body image.

During many long, long periods, “My Problem” seemed to fill the whole universe; it dominated my thoughts, it made life unbearable.

I did it all—I forced myself to throw up, often several times a day; I starved myself; I did water purges that left my whole body aching; I cut myself with knives and razor blades; eventually I even tried to take my own life.

I hit rock bottom— and then found that there was an even lower, harder rock bottom below that. It was hell.

Perhaps the worst part of the whole thing was that I was so terribly alone throughout. I felt I could not talk to anyone. I thought that no one—especially those closest to me— could understand just how bad it was.

Those who have struggled with severe depression know that there is a certain kind of pain you simply cannot put into words.

But the truth is, we must put it into words. I was shocked to discover— when I finally did start to talk about my troubles— that many people around me were suffering too, fighting their own private wars with depression and/or eating disorders.

I had to ask —what in hell is going on? Why would these sweet, smart, beautiful women feel so rotten about themselves? Why do they feel the need to starve or otherwise harm themselves?

 

... a well-loved path...

We are right to be concerned about the damage to the earth; we should be concerned, too, with the damage to ourselves. After all, we come from the earth (our bodies are organic!), we are sustained by the earth, and eventually we rot and turn back into the earth.

Our bodies are one with the earth. We must love and honour both!

There are still rising numbers of women struggling with bulimia, anorexia, and other eating disorders, depression, and types of self harm. What causes this? How can it be remedied? 
If we are to find solutions, we must get over ourselves, past our embarrassment, past the social stigma surrounding depression and eating disorders, and share what we have learned.

I am still susceptible. I always will be. But my world has changed a lot since the days when I regularly hurt myself, and I have learned a little bit more about myself, about depression, and about hope.

It’s time to start talking about these things.

This is a little place to share the wood and sea treasures, the things that have helped me, and the things that I hope can help others too. I don’t have all the answers, but I hope that, as I continue asking questions, I will learn more. 

Thank you for joining me!