Eating Dirt and Finding a Church

In my last post I wrote about reading Circling Faith, a book of essays by women about Southern Spirituality.  One essay that deserved more than simply sharing quotes was Beth Ann Fennelly's "Taking Terrior in Faith."

I learned a new concept from reading this essay, a practice called 'geophagy,' and it basically means the consumption of dirt clay.  Yes, from the ground . . . people eating dirt.  It brought a whole new meaning to the practice we joke about as a childhood pastime, making mud pies and cakes and joyfully feeling the mud between our fingers and toes.  

Fennelly writes, "The practice has been found on all continents, in various peoples, even in animals.  And in all times: Apparently, people have been eating the earth since they've been walking the earth . . . In the United States, geophagy has become associated with the South - usually with poor rural pregnant women, especially African American ones . . . slaves brought the habit with them to plantations, where it became known as Cachexia Africana" (53-4). It has now become an 'underground' activity, (you can purchase it on the internet and have it shipped to you in the mail) but is still commonly practiced by many people.  However, it's not like people are going out in their backyards and scooping mounds of earthworm-filled, gritty dirt into their mouths with a spoon.  Most of the actual clay comes from the South and it's taken from beneath ground level where it is uncontaminated with "manure, parasites, or pesticides" (56).

Source

She says there are five basic theories for why people eat dirt: (1) it satisfies hunger (2)  it provides minerals that might be lacking in people's diets (3) it can neutralize poisons (4) it has been known to reduce nausea and indigestion and (5) dirt is good for us.  

So what does geophagy have to do with faith?  Fennelly says that studying, researching, and considering why people consume dirt is similar to her "more serious quest to understand what [she] feel[s] about religion . . . now [she] see[s] that [her] interest in geophagy has mirrored the pattern of [her] interest in faith.  The questions they present are similar.  Both faith and geophagy are, for many, deepened by daily ritual.  They are frequently site-specific . . . we can find ourselves hungrier in some seasons than in others for their mysterious nourishment.  Both tastes are passed down, inherited from out parents.  Both seem absurd to non-practitioners" (59).  It seemed a pretty unlikely comparison to me, but it does seem to make sense, and I was certainly intrigued to learn about this unique practice that I'd never heard of before.  

She also discusses her search for a church, and it reminded me of my husband and my recent search for churches.  When we first moved to Dayton we went to so many churches I can't even remember all of them, carefully trying them on.  Which one fit?  Snug and comfortable, but leaving toe-room for growth?  

We finally found a small Episcopal church about 50 minutes away from us with friendly parishioners, a dedicated rector who delivered beautiful sermons, and a great mission to their community.  But we became frustrated in the commutes (especially in the wintertime) and in our inability (again, because of the commute) to become involved.  It seemed just right, except for its inconvenient location.  For the longest time we told ourselves that maybe a church this great meant we needed to work for it - God didn't think it should come to us that easy.  We were going to have to put in some effort.  But eventually a couple missed Sundays turned into weeks and months and we haven't been back since last summer.  And we've missed church.  

We attended several others close by for a couple months each, but nothing seemed to be working, not to mention the hospitality seemed nonexistent in some places (which seems to be another problem in churches altogether).  Then, we had what some call 'home-church', reading our Bible and Christian/Spiritual books together on our balcony or on the couch.  But I think we've both recently come to the conclusion that it's just not enough.  We want to be part of a church, even if we've had numerous bad experiences with them.  Similar to Fennelly, we feel a "vague, gnawing hunger, a hunger for food [we've] never eaten yet" (60).  Now, we hope to continue this search with a renewed appetite, and an invitation to a church our friends have recently started attending.  

Because of our own church-hunting experience, Fennelly's final words of her essay really resonated with me: ". . . we allow the body of another to become our own; the eating of the bread, the symbol of the body, brings about rebirth . . . I'm sticking with Sunday services though the dreamed-of clarity has not yet descended.  So many others have found nourishment here.  Maybe educating my palate is the first step.  Maybe the leap comes next" (61).

The Bird Feeder

So...I promise I've not dropped off the face of the earth or anything (although it has felt like that just a little bit).  I've been finishing my independent paper for my MA portfolio and I'm excited to say that it's finished and I turned it in yesterday!!! I don't know if I've ever been that excited to turn in a paper.

Anyway...since I've not had time to write on here I thought I'd share a short creative nonfiction piece that I composed for our class blog.  It's called "The Bird Feeder"...enjoy :)

My husband bought me a bird feeder this year for Valentine’s Day. I know some people might think that seems like a gift you’d give your seventy-year-old grandmother to hang on her porch so she could watch the birds while she sits in her rocking chair, but I thought the gift was terribly romantic. My husband and I are usually found doing the activities of elders anyway – Sunday matinees, James Taylor and Carol King concerts, or browsing antique shops – so it makes perfect sense if you were to make that comparison.

The bird feeder has a forest green top and a base that provides railing for the birds to perch and enjoy their meal. The base also has a couple small attachments that look almost like leaves where the birds can sit with a little more room if they so choose. The seed itself is packed tight into a large cylinder which can be changed out every few months or so. I’d never really seen a feeder quite this big before, but then again I’ve never been much of a bird feeder connoisseur.

Since he gave it to me in February we’ve only recently begun sighting birds. What we didn’t suspect was the amount of birdseed they’d drop onto our balcony and our railing; they sure are messy little things.

Cleaning up the mess they've left

A pair having their breakfast - I can't seem to catch a pic of them when they're eating from the feeder

We’ve been entertained not only by the birds themselves, but also with our cats’ fascination with them; they could sit for hours, watching them out the window. Although sometimes they get the dire urge to pounce, smacking their heads against the glass window – one reason we’ve tried to leave the door open for them. The screen’s not nearly is solid.

Last year they spent endless summer days chasing down wasps that would come in through the small holes in the screen door; we’d find groups of wasps lying dead on the carpet. I can just imagine my husband, ever the softy for all God’s creatures, saying a short prayer for them as he scooped them up in his hand and tossed their small bodies into the pots of dirt on our porch, to dust we shall return.

This year I’m sure Sammy and Sophie would similarly love to get their paws on those little birds – becoming rounder by the day, I might add – but they’ll be stuck on the other side of the screen door, contained from their natural instincts to chase them outside. Sophie will have to continue making her birdy sounds within the confines of our apartment, and Sammy will take it all much better – choosing to nap on the couch to keep his mind off it all. I can just imagine Sophie sitting attentively at the door, poised to strike but for the screen in her way, looking back at Sammy asleep on the couch, “We should have left those damn wasps alone.”

.the nature poems of Mary Oliver.

So the other day I wrote a post about 'writing the body' and how examples were revealing themselves to me everywhere I went, in whatever I was reading.  A similar thing has been happening since I discovered the nature poetry of Mary Oliver, an American writer born in Maple Heights, Ohio.  She's written countless collections of poetry and prose, (you can view many of them here) and I've decided she'll be the perfect companion for when my husband and I go camping this summer.  (We'll also be taking The Night Circus...my husband is really intrigued by this new novel).

I first discovered Mary Oliver thanks to a blog I follow called Kingdom Poets.  Then she showed up again in the daily post by The Writer's Almanac today on behalf of the first day of spring.  I'm already in love with her poems - lovely descriptions of nature, animals, and natural life.  I also love that you can find so many of her poems on the web, and lots of them are recorded.  

I really enjoyed this one (from Poetry Magazine), titled "Spring."  Signing off to continue reading and enjoying the lovely weather (even though we've leap-frogged spring and found ourselves in summer temperatures, humidity and all)!

Source: amazon.com via Jade on Pinterest

.small people got small houses.

Since Scott and I first read about 'tiny' or 'small' houses (I make this distinction because there's, ironically, a big difference between tiny and small homes) we've been doing research and looking into buying a 'small' house to build on farmland someday. [You can read more about tiny and small houses at the Tiny House Blog and Tumbleweed Tiny House Company is where you can purchase the house plans (and download instantly!).

...you have your Bungalow Tiny Houses...

Source: google.com via Jade on Pinterest

...Tiny houses to-go...

...and the Small houses:

(the paint job doesn't do this small house justice in my opinion)

After living in a small one-bedroom apartment with a tiny balcony in a bustling city-like area (I say 'city-like' because it's more like a city than where we grew up but some city folk would probably laugh at us calling it that) when the time comes for us to move we'll be ready to embark on our dream of owning land, gardening, and adopting stray animals.  You might ask why we're not simply going to just buy a 'regular' size house since we'll have lived in small quarters the first five years of our marriage.  Well, the answer is for simplicity.  If you have less house you have less house to clean, less house to acquire a bunch of junk (you might still acquire it but you'll have to put it somewhere else) and I know what comes along with buying old houses - lots of repairs.  I also just like this idea of a cozy little place in the valley near a mountain, burrowed by snow in winter.

Who knows, though? We might very well change our minds by the time we're looking for a place to put down our roots in a couple more years (or God might have other plans for us), but until then we're enjoying the idea of filling our little house with wall-to-wall bookshelves and large windows for viewing the outdoors.  With the close quarters comes deliberate planning of space; every inch will need to be utilized purposefully, so we've already been thinking of ways to do this.  One way is having a 'loft' as a bedroom, which I quite love! We're both short anyway (and odds are our kids will be too) so sloping ceilings would be the perfect touch for cozy living.

Source: Uploaded by user via Jade on Pinterest

Source: marthastewart.com via Jade on Pinterest

Some other small space ideas...

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Source: weheartit.com via Jade on Pinterest

.coming soon: birds!.

Scott bought me this cute bird feeder for Valentines' day and we hung it up on our balcony right away.  Even though we might not sight some birds for a while I can't wait to see them when the weather warms up.  Our male cat, Sammy, seems to already understand what it's for - he sits staring at it out the window.  The cylinder of food that came with it is 'safflower' which is supposed to attract chickadees, titmice, and (one of my favorites) cardinals!  I already saw a couple of cardinals chilling in the trees at my school so hopefully we'll sight some soon on our porch.

Until then these cardinals will have to do...some prints by Charley Harper, an Ohio artist.  We first saw these in a museum gift shop and now it seems like we see them everywhere.  But aren't they great?!  His works of other birds and animals are quite fascinating too!

You can see more of his originals here; I love that he does mostly animals and nature.  And I couldn't resist including this poster, The Edge of Appalachia...love it!

photos from here, here, here, here, here, here, and here.