The Inefficiency of Care

"The standard of the exploiter is efficiency; the standard of the nurturer is care. The exploiter's goal is money, profit; the nurturer's goal is health--his land's health, his own, his family's, his community's, his country's....The exploiter wishes to earn as much as possible by as little work as possible; the nurturer expects, certainly, to have a decent living from his work, but his characteristic wish is to work  as well  as possible.  The competence of the exploiter is in organization; that of the nurturer is in order...The exploiter typically serves an institution or organization; the nurturer serves land, household, community, place. The exploiter thinks in terms of numbers, quantities, "hard facts"; the nurturer in terms of character, condition, quality, kind......"

                  --Wendell Berry, The Unsettling of America 

This quote is on my mind all the time lately.  Care v. efficiency, and what that looks like in daily life, is an interesting juxtaposition.  It's a framework for considering how we keep house, homeschool, parent, build relationships.  Are our goals profit (monetary or otherwise), efficiency, organizing, maximizing numbers (or, let's say, test scores)? Or are our goals the more subtle, immeasurable goals of care, health, doing a job well, ordering life to appropriate ends, serving others? 

I don't think that they are completely at odds with each other, but I do think Berry is right when he says they are distinct. And it doesn't take much to look at our culture and see what the overall cultural value is, from schools (excessive focus on test scores) to parenting (too many activities and not enough slow time).  Even homeschooling falls victim to the exploitative mindset: using our kids as reflections of ourselves or our homeschooling philosophy without considering the fact that they are unique, for instance, or hyper-scheduling a "school day" to cram in the learning, rather than letting learning unfold at a more subtle pace.  Who is healthier: the child who believes he or she must achieve and do in order to be worthy in the eyes of a parent, or the child who feels loved, listened to, respected, and nurtured? I know many adults who grew up in both categories, the without a doubt, the adults who grew up as children in the latter group are the ones who are, as adults, healthier people. 

From another book I am reading right now, this quote: "Caregiving is not efficient.  It is impossible to keep caregiving within the strict bounds of a tight schedule." (from Real Love for Real Life by Andi Ashworth)

I remember once going to meet an author I really admired and instead of being able to really say anything heartfelt and meaningful I felt rushed along, as she was Quite Busy. I don't blame her, really, because there was a line of people behind me waiting to meet her.  But although her books had ministered to me in the slow way books do, the "efficiency" of dealing with people made our in-person encounter quite lackluster and disappointing to me. In retrospect, I wished I'd never approached her, because I felt the encounter was so meaningless!

In contrast, last year I met an amazing violinist who came to perform in our city with our symphony orchestra.  Although he was also entertaining a long line of people, he received me with joy and excitement, and when I told him that I was learning to play violin, he shared my enthusiasm, and told me to keep working hard, and also commiserated with me on how difficult violin is physically.  I walked away from that encounter feeling encouraged and grateful.  He hadn't dealt with his fans efficiently--he was caring.  

I'm just coming out of a long season of caring and so the inefficiency of caring is quite real and recent to me.  Thinking about it, I know that it was the right thing to do, to put the brakes on life and embrace the rhythms of my family's needs.  I naturally love efficiency. I plan my errands efficiently, try to schedule my time efficiently, etc.  but what I've discovered is that I can be efficient with errands and time--to a certain extent--but not with humans.

(It's the classic Mary and Martha dilemma, isn't it?)

In any case, in this new year, as we get back to a much more normal life after very difficult months of cancer treatments and recovery, I'm focused on staying a little inefficient, on taking life at a slower pace, and ordering our days to the ends of health and care.  Less productivity is a small price to pay for really loving others, as I have learned in the hardest of ways over the past year.  

Thanks, Wendell Berry, for the framework!