Before fall quarter started in 2015, I took a “farm experience” elective. Here are my thoughts about that trip.
As a naturopathic medical student at Bastyr, we are taught about having an evidence-based practice, which includes three components. It is informed by the medical literature, but it also includes a doctor’s clinical experience as well as patient values. As far as the medical literature is concerned, the gold standard for medical evidence comes from double-blind randomized controlled trials, where a single variable is studied. It is easy to see why this sort of study is valued because the data is clear, and these types of experiments can be easily repeated. However, the shortcoming is that a health variable in a person is never completely isolated. Each person is a universe of biochemical reactions that is impacted by his or her emotions, thoughts, actions, interactions, etc. The results from these sort of reductionist experiments simply cannot be applied to all living organisms. Our science really needs to develop a way to study more complex systems, and that is the basis for Dr. Daphne Miller’s book Farmacology, where, stepping away from the medical literature for a moment, she instead looks to various agricultural models that are well versed at considering the health of complex systems and applies this agricultural wisdom to the field of human health. In doing so she gives examples throughout the book of how she was able to help various patients, including herself, who were not healed by conventional medicine to overcome debilitating health conditions in unconventional and sometimes downright agricultural ways.
At the beginning of Farmacology, Dr. Miller includes a quote from Wendell Barry from The Unsettling of America, which I found inspiring. “While we live our bodies are moving particles of the earth, joined inextricably both to the soil and to the bodies of other living creatures. It is hardly surprising, then, that there should be some profound resemblances between our treatment of our bodies and our treatment of the earth.” (pg. xii) What struck me most about Farmacology and my experience at the Quillisascut farm was how interconnected everything is. While theoretically I already knew this, spending close to a week at the farm really drove this point home to me in a couple ways. The first point was how animals play a part in a sustainable system. Dr. Miller summarized some principles by Sir Albert, “When Nature farms, she recycles everything, never wastes, always leaves a reserve, always has a period of fallow, and always includes animals.” pg10When I first read this sentence, I wondered if it were really true that nature “always includes animals”. As someone who didn’t eat land animals for 23 years, it never occurred to me that it simply isn’t possible to have a purely plant based diet from a sustainable system. At some point animals will be involved. For example, while we were visiting Meadowlark Farm, which does not raise animals but just grows fruits and vegetables, the farmer John received a shipment of manure, showing that even if animals are not present, at some point they will still need to be an animal input. This concept is slowly helping me to reconcile my sadness about killing animals for meat with the idea that death is a necessary part of the life cycle. Not only can we not avoid death, but death is essential for the living. Reading about how the various farmers used animals on their farms in the book and seeing how animals contribute to the Quillisascut and surrounding farms gave me a deeper appreciation for all life and left me with a thought that there really is no such thing as a vegan meal.
The other point that struck me was how the convenience of modern life might interfere with our ability to experience mindfulness and gratitude, both of which are important for health and happiness. When you see where your food comes from and even had a hand in its growth and/or preparation, I think it is natural to eat more mindfully and to appreciate how the food is nourishing. So many people eat their meals while they are working or perhaps watching TV and not giving their food, which should be sustaining them, adequate notice. Part of me wonders if by just not noticing our food, maybe we get less out it than we could. Certainly if we gobble our food down in a hurry, we won’t digest it as well. In the Jubilee chapter, Dr. Miller encourages her patient Allie to get involved with a farm cycle and gives her several suggestions on how she can do this. The results are profound. After a follow up visit, Dr. Miller wrote, “[Allie] had stopped almost all her pills except for a low dose of her antidepressant and was feeling well for the first time in several years. She said that she loved being a part of a farm eco-cycle. I was delighted for her, but of course I could not help but wonder which part of this whole experiment had truly made the difference. Was it the microbes? The nutrients in the food itself? The new friends she had made through her farm work? The new sense of purpose? The physical labor? The sunshine? The fact that she was no longer grieving so intensely for her father? Or that she had abandoned all those pills? Or maybe all of the above, and some things I hadn’t thought of? After all, each of these factors played a role in the complicated web of Allie’s life.” (pg. 54-55) It seems like by becoming more involved with where her food came from, Allie intentionally reconnected herself to the cycle of life, which through a variety of ways restored her happiness, health, and sense of purpose and community. I wonder if more people got involved with their food production and with local farms if there would be a reduction in depression and an increased sense of purpose and connection? During my week at the Quillisascut farm, I found myself engaged in mindful eating, fully appreciating the abundance of flavor and grateful for all of the hands involved in growing and preparing our meals.
I decided to go into the field of naturopathic medicine because of my own health issues, which included being diagnosed with many food sensitivities. I was able to stick to a very restricted diet because I decided to not focus on what I couldn’t have but what I could. That perspective opened my eyes to many food choices that I was not previously aware of and allowed me to go on a delicious food adventure that simultaneously calmed the inflammation in my body. I know in my practice I will have many patients who will need to modify and restrict their diet at least for a time, and I know from experience how challenging that can be. What allows for a greater possibility of success is turning diet modification into a good thing. One thing that really became clear to me through the Quillisascut farm experience was how much diversity there is in food that is readily available to us when we choose to grow our own food or purchase our food from a local farm or farmers market. Not only does that diversity add interest to the palate, but the quality of flavor and nutrition is vastly superior to the depleted food available at most supermarkets. It is much easier to eat a restricted diet when the food on the menu is really good. As a way to inspire patients to modify their diets, I will include counseling on the benefits of local and seasonal foods and provide resources on where people can find these things. By doing this, I hope to increase my patients’ willingness and level of success in diet modification, which will be for many people a crucial part of regaining their health. In addition, I hope to also promote the success of local sustainable farmers, who are critical for regaining the health of our planet.
Reference:
Miller, Daphne. Farmacology. New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 2013.
