How To Set The World On Fire Without Burning Out

Poor Michael Pollan. Well, OK, poor is probably a poor choice of words; after all, his new book’s been at the top of the New York Times bestseller list since it came out last month, so he’s presumably making big bucks exhorting America to buck Big Food. Pollan’s so famous now that there’s no time for personalized inscriptions at book signings, as I discovered when I went to hear him speak in NYC last month.

The thing is, though, Pollan never intended to become the biggest star in the progressive foodie galaxy. He’s gone from Walden to Wal-Mart; after making a name for himself as a Thoreau for our times with a series of brilliant essays and books on our uneasy relationship to the natural world, he took on industrial agriculture and stumbled into Upton Sinclair’s Jungleland, where he’s been tangled up ever since.

The Just Food fundraiser where I heard Pollan speak took place in a sleek ‘n’ swanky Manhattan loft, the kind of event a scruffy blogger only gets to attend by volunteering to check coats and clear plates (and spill red wine on a white rug—sorry, Molly!) Hearing Pollan discuss his latest book, I couldn’t help feeling that he’s gotten himself trapped in a CAFO—a Confined Author Feeding Operation.

He’s really ready to move on, to sink his teeth into a non-edible topic, like, say, ethanol (I think the USA Today photographer who took the liberty of rummaging through Pollan’s fridge uninvited was the last straw.) And who would be better at getting the word out about the environmental disaster that is ethanol? Besides, the corn lobby’s probably already got a contract out on his life; he might as well go for it.

But Americans--sick of, and sickened by, this warped Western diet we’ve been roped into by the robber barons of Big Food—needed a hero to lead a showdown at the We’re-Not-OK Corral. So when lean, lanky Michael Pollan strode onto Agribiz turf like some kinda Gary Cooper of Good Food, he became the Sheriff of Sustainable Ag, like it or not.

I can kind of relate, because when we started growing tomatoes on the roof of our West Village apartment fifteen or so years ago, I had no intention of becoming a food activist myself (wasn’t planning to end up in court with our landlady, or in the pages of Garden Design magazine, either, but that’s a story for another day.)

This is what happened: I became obsessed with gardening, and then, organic gardening. I started hanging out with the farmers at the Greenmarket and speaking in agricultural acronyms: CAFOs, GMOs, CSAs. I read Michael Pollan, Bill McKibben, Helen and Scott Nearing, Wendell Berry, Joan Gussow, Marion Nestle, Gene Logsdon, et al., trying to make sense of the crazy way we live and eat these days.

I never wanted to be an agri-culture warrior. I stumbled into the real food revolution, literally, after a knee injury ended my career as a painter/landscaper and forced me to take up “mental manual labor,” as John Gregory Dunne aptly called the vocation of writing.

Sometimes I feel like I’m making a little bit of a difference, but a lot of times my head hurts from being banged against a wall day in, day out. Some days being an advocate for sustainable agriculture just feels, well, unsustainable.

I feel bound up by the cord to my laptop, trapped in the blogosphere when I really want to be puttering in my garden or just reading for pleasure, something I vaguely recall having done a few years back. In my darkest moments, I think Wendell Berry was right, and that the Internet sucks (well, that’s not what he said but that was the gist of it.)

So I was in dire need of the warmth and wisdom of Hillary Rettig, author of The Lifelong Activist: How to Change the World Without Losing Your Way, who gave me, Matt, and a roomful of twenty-something vegans a pep talk at NYU last night on the subject of “Living a Joyful Progressive Life While Avoiding Activist Burnout.”

Rettig is a consultant and a life coach for activists, volunteers, and other do-gooders who so often shortchange themselves in their zeal to change the world. The talk was sponsored by Farm Sanctuary, a non-profit dedicated to ending cruelty to farm animals--hence the twenty-something vegans, and the butter-free baked goods we snacked on as Rettig enlightened us on how to lighten our load.

Her simple and sage advice on how to manage your time, define your mission, conquer your fears and do good in the world without doing bad by yourself is priceless, but Rettig’s so committed to cheerleading us citizen activists that she gives it away for free at her website, in an E-book you can download called “The Little Guide To Beating Procrastination, Perfectionism and Blocks: a Manual for Artists, Activists, Entrepreneurs, Academics and Other Ambitious Dreamers.”

The E-book expands on part III of her engaging and inspiring book, which is the next best thing to actually having your own personal life coach. Admittedly, the book presented a bit of a Catch-22 for me, though; having read about it and rushed out and bought it, I procrastinated about actually reading it. I have an ever growing stack of “must-read” books I can’t seem to make a dent in—for every book I finish, two more come along.

So I was delighted to have a chance to hear Rettig share the highlights of her strategies on how to make the world a better place without making yourself miserable in the process. Rettig shows us non-profit types how we can profit from the marketing savvy and fiscal pragmatism of the business world without selling our souls or diluting our goals. Activism is, after all, a kind of marketing; it’s just that we’re trying to sell people on a common good instead of consumer goods.

The way to do that, according to Rettig, is to avoid the “us versus them” mindset, and try find common ground instead of alienating people by passing judgment on their (to us) obviously boneheaded choices, or, in my case, hitting them over the head with a sustainably harvested two-by-four.

Rettig calls on us to be more compassionate to ourselves and the world around us, to make realistic goals and spend our time more wisely. She disputes the adage that “time is money,” pointing out that time is, in fact, a far more precious commodity than currency.

If your back aches from carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, let the Lifelong Activist’s message massage those sore spots. Rettig’s book and website are the ultimate self-help guide for those of us who are hellbent on helping others.

Originally posted on TakePart.com.