Unyeasted bread, quests.
Unyeasted breads have a deep, hearty, honest spirit with a certain substantial integrity. Dense and thick-crusted, they require a good bread knife for cutting and a certain endurance for chewing…
No matter how much I mentioned the dense, “bricklike” nature of some of these breads, still I received many letters from people wondering why the bread came out of the oven like a piece of building material. O.K., they are not to everyone’s taste, but some people really like this sort of thing: “How real,” they say, “How flavorful.”
— Edward Espe Brown in The Tassajara Bread Book, 25th Anniversary Edition
I’ve been finding a lot of inspiration in a particular kind of far-out food book. Not dietary inspiration; something like philosophical inspiration. Emotional inspiration? Attitude inspiration. The connecting thread seems to be authors who used to practice more extreme diets. Former vegans, former macrobiotics, former hippies. Some of these books have consistent ways of respecting radicalisms and moderations at the same time, finding another level of inclusion where you get the thorough, grounded ethics of radical thought without the isolating righteousness. I find myself re-reading bits of non-content like the introduction to a recipe, just for the tone or the attitude.
Does that Bread Book passage do any of that for anybody else? I know I’m reading the way I need to read.
This is helping me rename a personal communication quest that I’ve been naming and renaming for, I don’t know, fifteen years? My teenaged fixation was how to be honest and also nice (both in the sense of liked and in the sense of kind). Later it was how to have a critical analysis without alienating people who don’t. How to be compassionate without self-censorship. How to make space for differences without them being cast as disagreements or negativity. How to maintain boundaries without being judgmental. Consideration without passivity. Empathy without enabling. Belonging without conformity. How to make connections across differences. All of these draft mission statements have been discarded or modified, but I’m getting somewhere. I want to joke that it wouldn’t be hard to be both more honest and more kind than teenaged me, but that isn’t true. It has been hard!
Flipping through a chapter called Vegetarian Ethics and Humane Meat that kept me up late last night, I have totally failed to find a quotable section. I started just collecting words. “Much depends,” “life and death and life,” appreciation, reflection, mistakes, “not so easy,” “Plan B,” courage, “emotionally spent,” responsibility, “more directly involved,” experiments, clumsy, “I’m very curious,” “our memories diverge… isn’t memory funny?” Vocabulary for a big, thoughtful mess.
Who said that keeping up with fashion is the ultimate way to create anxiety? Connecting people in a big mess seems like the opposite to that. Seeking ways for many fashions to co-exist together is comforting and useful. So I guess that’s the communication quest for now. It must seem like this is too abstract to possibly be useful in my real life, but I bet I will refer to this in the next 24 hours, trying to explain a decision or action to someone. “It’s like the unyeasted bread! I know how to do this!”
Re: former x, y or z’s. This relates to me with identity formation theory (used often to describe race and queer identity formations, essentially forming an identity when it isn’t part of the accepted “norms”.) It goes a little something like this:
1. Identity confusion: Am I x?
2. Identity comparision: I may be x.
3. Identity tolerance: I am probably x.
4. Identity acceptance: I am x.
5. Identity pride: I loooove being x!
6. Identity synthesis: Being x is part of who I am.
I’ve often thought of this when thinking about being very involved in being identified as part of one group or the next. The people you are talking about sound like they would be in the “identity synthesis” in that not everything they do has to do with x, and they may have left the narrower range of using x as THE defining factor in who they are, and made it a part of a larger picture of who they are.
Anyhoo, something that percolated up into my brain on a Saturday morning. This isn’t as linear as it looks either, and people can move and flow in all kinds of ways. It can be a pretty problematic theory and doesn’t take into account the privileges in being a “former” something, like your examples have.
— Tracey · 11 July 2009, 12:54