I lived on three different farms in Norway for 23 years, and my number one preoccupation during that time was self-sufficiency. But sometimes I lost track of the big picture, and it seemed quite often that we were re-inventing the wheel, in our mad rush to make our own salt and spin our own dental floss: these efforts left us exhausted and sleep-deprived: yet we were stubbornly compelled to press onward, ever onward! But perhaps this was a necessary phase for a couple of x-suburbanite homesteaders to go through? After all of those years of mindless public schooling and being constantly dumbed down, whilst learning nary a single practical skill, maybe it was only natural that young people just waking up to the relative meaninglessness of the prevailing corporate-consumer society of our times should feel compelled to be self-sufficient in everything from soap to pickles to teddy bears (felted with wool from our own sheep, of course)….

We read incessantly about the ins and outs of self-sufficiency, but also spoke often with old-timers, who were very helpful regarding the old ways of farming, preserving, weaving, and so much more. However: one day I had another kind of awakening (yes: I’ve had several sorts of epiphanies throughout the decades!)…….. One day, whilst I was standing in front of my newly acquired beehives with my husband (after a long morning of chasing the goats, who had busted into my vegetable garden), trying to figure out yet another important skill (that of beekeeping), it occurred to me: why exactly do I absolutely NEED to be self-sufficient in honey, when so many of our neighbors also keep bees? Why could we not simply trade firewood (or potatoes) for honey?

And it was on that day that the clouds began to part and a new truth shone forth: self-sufficiency without community is incomplete and unsustainable. Things began to unravel for me, as I pondered this truth further, and realized that we really had no community of like-minded souls in Norway to trade with, exchange ideas with, nor simply be human with…….. The homeschooling community in Norway consisted of about 400 people, and we were all so far-flung: the nearest homeschooling friends of ours lived in Oslo: a four hour bus ride away; or Bergen, six hours over the mountains…. (It’s rather fascinating to consider that almost ALL of the homeschoolers I knew in Norway were also “anti-vaxxers”, who were in addition preoccupied with things like self-sufficiency, organic gardening, sock-knitting, and raw milk…….. Nearly all of them had gotten rid of their televisions years before ever having children!)

It was my darling honey bees who were the straw that broke the camel’s back: I let my husband take over the beekeeping endeavors, while I began to consider a life engaged in community, which was not to be had in the mountains of Telemark, where everyone looked upon us as utter freaks for making hay with a horse, living without electricity or running water or other modern things, dressing like Amish people, homeschooling our children, and mending our worn-out garments (which were largely home-made), instead of just throwing them in the landfill…. It was incredibly depressing to suddenly comprehend how alone we actually were: our neighbors (despite living in the countryside) were brainwashed consumers, who dutifully sent their children to school and never questioned anything. It was then that I went on a quest for community, and this is ultimately what brought me back to my homeland and upstate New York, despite all the glaring and blaring imperfections of this place….

Self-sufficiency as a community is now my goal. Why should every human being on earth struggle to carve their own wooden spoons or grow their own barley? Trading with like-minded friends and community members makes so much more sense: plus the exchange of goods and skills is similar to how Nature works. No man is an island (even though I liked to think of myself as a hermit, at the end of the day I was not); in fact, we are social beings, to one degree or another, just like those bees (though WE do not partake in the hive-mind!)…….. But socializing with the Coca Cola-drinking and television-watching Norwegians would NOT suffice: and so, here I am!!! Life has never been so sublime, despite the terrifying strivings of the likes of Klaus Schwab and Bill Gates…………

But ultimately they are powerless over our humanity and our connection to the spiritual realm, and tremble at the mere thought of our joyous, unvaccinated home-schooled youngsters, our abundant cottage gardens overflowing with flowers and vegetables, and our road-side farm stands selling raw milk, sauerkraut, and sourdough bread made with Ascension Day and Michelmas dew drops. In fact, I think they might even be a little jealous…………

 

  • Jenny Hampe Endresen