Musonius Rufus, Lectures 11.2

For the earth repays most justly and well those who cultivate her, returning many times as much as she received and furnishing an abundance of all the necessities of life to anyone who is willing to work; and this she does without violating one's dignity or self-respect.

You may be sure that no one who was not demoralized by soft living would say that the labor of the farmer was degrading or unfit for a good man.

How, I ask, could planting trees or plowing or pruning vines not be honorable? Are not sowing seed and harvesting and threshing all occupations for free men and befitting good men? Even keeping flocks, as it did not disgrace Hesiod nor prevent him from being a poet and beloved of the gods, so it would not prevent anyone else.

I must be very careful not to succumb to any sort of romanticism here, of holding to some idyllic image where a rural or pastoral life magically removes all troubles and fears. It may look so refined on paper, while it ends up being quite gritty in practice.

Whenever I have done any sort of farm work, such as clearing a field, or feeding livestock, or baling hay, I have hardly found it to be easy. In whatever way I may have prepared myself, my skin ended up burned, my bones and muscles ached in ways I did not think were possible, and I simply accepted that the dirt and stink would not come off, that they were now a part of me.

At the end of the day, however, the extreme sense of tiredness was profoundly good.

Quite unlike the hours spent filling out paperwork, or babbling at meetings, or inching along in traffic on the highway, something essential and productive was getting done.

Quite unlike the labyrinth of modern bureaucracy, it was beautiful in its simplicity. There was no waste, and there was no confusion of purpose.

Most importantly, it could all be practiced, however much it asked of my body, without demanding that I compromise anything within my conscience. It could be pursued with pride, precisely because it was both useful and moral.

Deception or dodging your responsibilities might serve you well at a law firm or in the boardroom, but they are of absolutely no help at all in a barn or on a field. If I make excuses or point fingers, the job simply doesn’t get done, and then no one eats.

Smug, spoiled, and self-satisfied people might look down their noses at you, but that is entirely on them. Nature is always immediately present, right in your face, with no artificial barriers or distractions. Sometimes she is deeply kind and sometimes she is terrifyingly violent, but she is always completely honest.

In the words of that earthy heretic, John Ball:

When Adam delved and Eve span, who was then the gentleman?

Written in 11/1999