Traditional Japanese Farming and preB (Prebiotics). An Essay.
In the beginning, before there were words like agriculture, and natural farming; before organic became different than what everyone else was doing before that, a long time ago, in a place called Japan (Nippon) there was tradition. There was a way of seeking harmony by living harmoniously with the land. There was a sense of being one with life, and all life being one. Tradition was not a word, it was the way it had always been, the only way it could be. The eternal cycle of birth, growth, maturity, death. Rebirth.
Food was raiment for the inside of the body. The outside of food was raiment for the outside of the body. There was no method to farming in this ancient Japan. There was only philosophy. What was the nature of each plant? How did it affect the nature of the human? How could one benefit the other? Farming, in old Japan, was about observation. Understanding. Honoring the uniqueness of every part of nature, and giving it obeisance.
In the beginning, life was invigorated, made full by the fruits of this quiet partnership with the soil, with the wind, the water, and the sky. No part was more important than the other. Each had a gift to bestow. Each received of the others, and made bounteous the Fall harvest. Harvest was both celebration, and a passing. With thankfulness, the still of Winter came, the fruits of Summer eaten, and the preparations for Spring planting consumed the activities of the cold season. Life was an eternal round. Uninterrupted. Real.
Plants were honored in their season. Their composted cuttings fed the worms that made the soil fertile. Everything was used. Everything had its place. There was nothing to discard in old Japan. It was just a matter of knowing its use, its best purpose.
Work on the land was not work. It was worship. It was meaning. It was inspiration. The land held reverence for your ancestors within its hills and valleys. In time, it would hold you and your children too. You came from this earth. Everything came from this earth. And all would, in its time, return to it.
In the beginning, in traditional Japan, food and life and meaning and honor were inseparable. They were different aspects of the same continuation that had always been.
Times passed. Wars came. Wars ended. Vast cities arose. They spread and spread until they were vast networks of buildings and roads and power lines, pipelines and cars. Noise and noxious fumes connected it all. Farms were big, expensive machinations, consuming vast quantities of fertilizers, ocean tankers of herbicides, while the common earthworm was killed and forgotten.
"Production" became the key word, in this world. Speed was its mantra. Agriculture became a word. And cost per pound took its place among the pantheon of agricultural gods. Inputs. Outputs. Cost per unit. Shipping schedules. Wastage. Packaging. Advertising. Nutrition information had to be placed on food labels because there was no longer a way to tell by the way something looked, or smelled, or tasted, what it was really good for. We had to be educated about what was good for us in schools. We had to learn to read labels to help ourselves choose "healthy" foods. We trusted science to tell us why something was good for us, instead of eating what our ancestors always knew was good for us. Our ancestors never questioned what was good. They already knew – tradition had taught them well.
There is a place frozen in time. A place far from the shoals of the new, agricultural gods. Far from the maddening places we call home and city. There is earth, in this place, untouched by agriculture. Man-made fertilizers are unknown in this land, and chemical herbicides and insecticides have never been sprayed there.
This far away place, deep within Brazil, is bound in time. It was founded on a simple principle: Honor, once again, the earth. Honor the common earth worm, because where it flourishes, all plants flourish. When these plants reach the peak of their creation, are harvested, washed and prepared, they spring forth all that nature intended. They give forth of their hidden raiment, and nourish all who honor them by partaking. Far from Mt. Fuji, a piece of old Japan has been transplanted.
The Facenda Anew Ranch is a vast sprawling of red earth in southern Brazil, tucked close against Peru and Uruguay. It is recreating the tradition of ancient Japanese farming. Honoring centuries-old philosophy, it produces harmony with nature, and with its growers. As a result, it creates harmony within all who partake of its bounty, preB (Prebiotics).
This place, untouched by plow until it began to grow the plenteous ingredients of preB (Prebiotics), honors the old ways of Japan, to bring forth a revolutionary food – a food who's macrobiotic recipe was borne of Samurai, who's methods of fermentation, while rooted in ancient ways, has discovered revolutionary effects on the body, effects that could only spring from a place so far removed from civilization and the environmental affronts of modern man.
Honoring the tradition of the way – the ancient way of man – the way of old Japan – the right way of being one with the earth, being one with life, this Ranch gives obeisance to it.
The Facenda Anew Ranch is an offering to the spirit of that life by drinking deeply from the fruits of this earth into the center of our bodies. Having drunk, it thereby invigorates our souls with harmony.
1. Go to "Where preB (Prebiotics) is Made."
2. Go to "preB (Prebiotics) Ranch" here.
3. Re-discover "What is preB (Prebiotics)" here.