Matter of Perspective

Matter of Perspective

PictureVegan hot dogs at the Seattle Mariners game!

I blogged a book about conscious living a few months ago, and this is one of the most popular posts from the book! The book is no longer online, but I am hoping the book will be published soon. In the meantime, I still want to share some of the ideas from book with you! 

Food has always been a defining part of my life.
I grew up in a big family, and we frequently had large gatherings, which of course centered around food. There was always a feast whether it was for a holiday, birthday, or impromptu BBQ. My mother made the best BBQ brisket and potato salad in North Texas! As an early teen, my brother and I had a competition each Christmas to see who could make the best looking and tasting dessert. I went to pastry school after graduating high school and even had my own baking business for a while.  Not unexpectedly, it came as a shock to my family when I told them I was giving up meat in 2012. I am a born and raised Texan with burgers, brisket, and steak running through my veins. I had concerns about giving up meat. I was never concerned about where I would find protein or vitamins, but more about the feelings I associated with food. I mean, how did I expect to go to a Major League Baseball game and not eat a hot dog? How would I celebrate with family at our gatherings now? These were real concerns for me.  


PictureThis was Nike, a few hours after being born.

In the end, I found my concerns couldn’t withstand the awareness of who and what I was eating. I always considered myself an animal lover, but in reality, I only loved the animals I wasn’t eating. Even then, I had an affection for cows, pigs, chickens, and turkeys. I always had companion animals while growing up, mainly dogs. I now live with three senior cats and a feisty little guinea pig. When I was about 18 years old, my parents purchased a female cow and then took her to a nearby farm for some  “romancing.” In other words, they took her to the nearest bull to impregnate her. Around nine months later, because cows have a similar gestation period as humans, she gave birth to a little boy that we named Nike. I watched his birth and his first wobbly steps in awe. Over the next six months or so, I visited him in the pasture to watch him play, run around, and fed him little veggie treats. His mom was pretty protective over him and didn’t let me get too close to him. Then one day I came home from class and found a note on our freezer that said, “Nikeville, USA.” I remember being so sad and confused. I couldn’t believe they took him to the butcher! I knew the day was coming, but I just assumed they would change their minds because I felt like he became part of our family.  His mother cried for him for a few weeks and paced back and forth in the pasture with nervous energy. 

Being that I still lived at home, I didn’t feel as though I had a choice or say in what I ate. So I ate my friend. I felt guilty each time I opened the freezer door or cooked a meal using him. Guilt is a funny thing though. I found ways and excuses to justify what I was doing and who I was eating. I did that for many years later. In a way, I think that moment and that memory is what made me start thinking about my food not as it, but as who. I don’t call my cats now or the dogs that I grew up with an “it,” so I started to question why I called every other animal an “it” or labeled them as poultry or beef. When we label a being as an “it,” we give ourselves permission to disconnect their souls and turn them into a product for our use.  As a little girl, I honestly didn’t know where my food came from. It was a shock to learn my chicken nuggets were from a feathery little bird and my bacon was a from a pig. By the time I saw Nike cut up and packaged in our freezer, I was old enough to know who I was eating. But I thought that was normal, and animals were meant for us to eat. That is what I grew up learning, and that is what I believed. 

I don’t think I met a vegetarian until I started attending a Unitarian Universalist church in Hagerstown, Maryland in 2008. We participated in a potluck hosted by a few members of the church, and so many of the dishes that people brought were vegetarian. I kept thinking to myself that I am not going to like any of this. It was just weird. Then I saw a flyer for a vegan potluck group that met at the church. My first thought, what the hell is a vegan and how do these people survive? These questions continued to percolate once we moved away from Maryland and were living in Boston, Massachusetts. It wouldn’t be until 2012 that I became a vegetarian, mainly because of previously stated concerns and realization of who I was eating. During those years I started hearing tidbits about why people stopped eating animals, and I began seeking out information about animal farming. Then the dam burst and I couldn’t unlearn or unsee the facts. I couldn’t stop the nagging feeling in my gut that I wasn’t living the life that aligned with my new values. My values, morals, and opinions did change over those first years, and honestly, they still change every day.


Did you know that 9+ billion farmed land animals are killed annually, just in the US alone? And that number reaches 70 billion worldwide. This number does not take into account the trillions of sea life that killed annually as well. So in the time that it took you to read this post, approximately 1.2 million animals will have been slaughtered for food.

My last meal before becoming a vegetarian was a turkey and cheese wrap during a Monday afternoon working lunch meeting. I had technically stopped eating meat the Friday before but then found myself without options for lunch that Monday. I was embarrassed to pick off the turkey in front of my coworkers and confess that I had become a vegetarian over the weekend.  So, I went along with what everyone else was doing and ate my turkey and cheese wrap.  I was never the person that wanted to stand out from the crowd or be different. I realized that is what I had been doing my entire life, just going along with what everyone else was doing. I could have told my parents that I wasn’t going to eat Nike, just like I could have told my coworkers that I was a vegetarian if asked why I was pulling off the turkey from the wrap. Trust me, not everyone agrees with the way I live my life or what I eat, but most people are respectful.  Subsequently, my last meal before becoming a vegan was a cheese pizza.
 
I have mentioned several times about what I have learned and why those facts made me go vegetarian and then vegan. I don’t like to be a negative person, so sometimes I find it challenging to regurgitate everything I know. The information isn’t pleasant by any means, but everyone should know and understand what is going on. If only to make a more informed decision about their life and what they put in their body. I am not the vegan that shouts at you to go vegan or that you are a murderer. For me, writing is my activism. Even then, I am not going to call you a murderer. 

I will share some of the other tidbits from the book soon! Plus, I am putting together a free eBook with the Top 10 Conscious Living tips for anyone who signs up for the newsletter! Stay tuned for the free eBook announcement! 

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