So tonight, while reading a selection from Into Thin Air that bespoke of devotion, I looked at Stoli, our cat. I thought about our animals and our love for them, and that jumped into wondering how that would compare to our love for, say, our children. I thought about if we would die for one, like we would for a child. I thought about dogs chewing through doors to save their masters in burning houses. I thought about the extent of family for us and for them, and about how we are all we give them of family. About how we systematically deny animals of their biological family. This, of course, took me back to one of my biggest problems with eating the way I eat--eating dairy and eggs--even if organic and/or local. Even if there isn't physical suffering involved, I can't get away from the fact that it is cruel to split up families. It goes against all that I know of family love. And there's no question that animals find love and comfort in their families. We don't have to search far to see or read the evidence of that fact.
Enter tears. Disappointment that I continue to do something that my whole self rejects violently (albeit rarely, since I choose to ignore it most of the time). After a mini-jag and a text session with a vegan-friendly friend (who toys with it occasionally, as I do), I decided to expect it of myself again--being vegan, or at least, mostly vegan. I instantly feel nostalgic when I think of the few things I bake or think about baking once every six months that don't have an easy vegan adaptation. And then I think how silly that something like that influences me away from what gives me a real sense of joy, a sense of limitless love.
Some of the best lines regarding such silly fears are in the introduction to The Joy of Vegan Baking by Colleen Patrick-Goudreau (the bolded emphasis is my own--some of what speaks to me most):
“I’ve heard people say that eating vegan is ‘limiting’ and ‘restrictive,’ and I couldn’t disagree more. In fact, I find that it’s quite the opposite. Your awareness is expanded. You try foods and cuisines you never even noticed before. The compassion you knew as a child is restored—and fully manifested. But even more than that, I find that living in such a way that we cut ourselves off from the truth, from our truth, is what’s truly limiting. People tend to avoid knowing about how the animals suffer not just because it’s too painful for them but also because they know deep down inside that once they find out this information, they’re going to want to make a change, and it’s change they’re afraid of: afraid of not knowing what it will look like and how it will change their lives. So instead, we choose fear. We create boundaries to our compassion. We choose ignorance over knowledge. We choose complacency over empowerment. To my mind, that’s restrictive, that’s limiting.
Every time we say ‘I don’t want to know,’ we limit our potential for growth, change, and making possible everything we want to be and everything we want this world to be. What could be more limiting than cutting ourselves off from our own compassion, our own values? Quite the contrary, being vegan is about knowing, exploring, evolving, participating, and taking responsibility. Being vegan is about removing barriers and embracing what it means to be human—experiencing sorrow as well as joy. To my mind, that’s expansive. That’s abundance.
It was only when I was willing to know—willing to look—at how I contributed to the suffering of animals that I woke up. When I was a child, I acted compassionately without any thought—as if I didn’t know any better than to respond to those who needed my help. It just came naturally. Now that I’m an adult, I act compassionately with thought, and I only regret that the innocent kindness of a child is valued more than the informed kindness of an adult. Though the process of desensitization was full and complete by the time I was a young adult, I’m grateful it was not irreversible, and I fully embrace what I hope will be my legacy: unabashed, unfettered, unconditional compassion.” –Colleen Patrick Goudreau
This time, I hope I can enjoy lasting conviction instead of the inevitable bout of tears that (eventually) finds me after I've abandoned my vegan intentions. But if I don't, there are worse things than experiencing the same epiphany over and over, I guess. One day my cheeks will hit their salt saturation point, and I'll stop disappointing myself. That day may be today. :)
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