The True Cost of Organic Vegetables and Fruits: Part I

I feel the urgent need to share my experience of having labored on an Organic Farm this past year here in Germany in the hopes of bringing to light the true cost of the food on our dining tables. I wish to inspire many others to take a closer look at the vegetables and fruits they eat and realize, whether they are commercially grown or organically produced, there is a hidden cost which I feel is going to sooner or later come due. The imbalance regarding our soil, the the lack of consciousness in which it is used, and the blatant exploitation of the farm laborers whose work is monotonously brutal and lengthy, needs to be exposed. I believe that if people knew the facts of how their food was produced, they would first of all have more gratitude, and secondly be willing to pay a higher price so that everyone was treated fairly.
My gratefulness for the abundance in my life has soared to new heights from my farm work experience. The knowledge and hopefully, wisdom, I have gained is incredible and completely different that what I had anticipated. I have become especially thankful for the farm workers who give their life energy for a less than living wage to grow, cultivate, and harvest our food. And for those among us, including my wife, Monika, who are maintaining their own backyard gardens and supporting small, local, organic farmers. They all deserve respect and admiration.
Soil is not dirt, period. It is not even something we should try to manipulate and exploit to extract the maximum amount of produce from it. After witnessing first hand the harsh treatment of our precious soil on a supposedly ‘Organic’ operation, I see how imperative is the need for us to reverse this self-destructive trend.
The soil is a living being and simply put, how we treat the soil is eventually how we treat ourselves and others, because, in essence, we are soil. The quality of the soil our food is grown in determines largely the quality of our blood and consequently, our state of consciousness. As one of my favorite teachers always said, ‘Our Blood is Our Compass.’
It doesn’t take much sensitivity to be repulsed at the sights and ear splitting noise of the monster tractors churning up the soil in supposed in preparation for the spring planting. (To be continued)