Living into Abundance

Living into Abundance

On my list of 'things I'm trying to unlearn' has been the phrase "Supply and Demand."

Nature's example of abundance goes against so much of our society's messages of scarcity and of what holds value. What is so freely given in nature's grand design of sunshine, water, air, soil, and the miracle of living things gets colonized, privatized, and hoarded as "supplies." We are told by the powers-that-be that scarcity is the rule. And so, we fret and fuss about never having enough, when we could indeed be living into the beauty of enough and stretch ourselves into the mode of seeing abundance.

Yet, here I am selling limited products with limited inventory, time, and resources. It is my ongoing (and daily) challenge to balance this sense of scarcity with a sense of gratitude for what we have and for what is available to us through the many partners and friends and supporters of the cafe. It's a stretch for me at times.

At the end of April, the bakery was asked to supply a church conference of several hundred people with our well-loved cinnamon biscuits. As a small batch bakery, with a batch size of 8 for our daily production of cinnamon biscuits, just imagining over 400 biscuits was a stretch of our imagination. Initial worries, however, made way to recognizing the time, resources and experience we had available to us and knowing we could gather the support we needed. In the ways we offered each other time and support, we acknowledged that some things could wait and some things could be set aside. As the full trays were packed into the car for delivery that morning, we cheered our accomplishment and gained new muscles we could put to use. Imagining became possible.

Stretching a different kind of muscle, I had ventured to the "Re-Envision 38th Open House" put on by Publics Works Department the week before. There I was reminded once again of the pain, distrust and trauma that resulted from George Floyd's murder. As our city seeks to heal and move forward, the challenges of confronting this past continue and require re-thinking many of the stories we have told ourselves over the years.

We are hearing a different version of the story of "affordable housing" that calls into account the red-lining and disinvestment in neighborhoods (including 38th and Chicago) which segregated our city's housing. That policy provided added wealth to white citizens while it eliminated wealth creation for black citizens. The story of progress we once told about highway construction, becomes one about the birth of suburban enclaves, and is being retold as a story about our city's transportation planners tearing apart bustling neighborhoods of people of color without reparations.

We must stretch our collective imagination now in a way that truly envisions rebuilding of a community that has become the beating heart of racial reckoning. I heard the desire from project planners to make this stretch, but I also heard their fears that a city, heavy-laden with plans, policies and processes, is only just beginning to learn how to stretch its equity muscles. I heard the artists' calls for hope and dreaming, but I also heard the activists' vocal frustrations.

Swirling around these challenges comes a call to restore the earth. Butter placed that phrase on one of our windows to remind us that we are an industry that extracts huge amounts of resources, requires miles of transportation of ingredients and products, is a heavy energy user, and generates a substantial amount of waste. Here at Butter, we have been learning to stretch a set of muscles that is moving us to a lighter impact on our earth and aims us toward zero waste. Once we learn to use our earth-friendly muscles, we can put them to use to help us see the abundance around us and move us to be community builders.

As I continue to read more about our country's history, I'm learning new ways to view an economy of 'supply and demand.' The foundation of our American culture has been built on stolen labor, stolen land and stolen resources, and the spoils of war against the people who cared for this land and for each other for thousands of years before colonization. We can benefit from working and learning alongside our indigenous brothers and sisters who continue to steward our earth in ways that sustain its abundance for future generations.

These past couple of years I have witnessed so much scarcity - of understanding the covid virus, of medications and vaccines, of needed supplies and equipment, of workers and of paid time to not work, of business revenue and government supports, of leaders willing to speak the truth, and of basic human compassion. And, through it all, I have also come to experience such abundance and generosity. There is so much to still be grateful for, and it is those "gratefulness" muscles that move me into action to face the seemingly impossible challenges set before us.

This May, I give thanks for a world reawakening from a long winter and look forward to sharing that gratitude with you as we work some new muscles along this Green Path.