Champagne and telescopes!
TA DA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Spiffy, right? I am so in love with this new site, and so grateful to LeahCreates for designing it for me. I really wanted something clean and fresh and simple, and this is perfect. (I would like to cut and stitch my own handmade header at some point—I can see it so clearly in my head—but for now this is just right.)Now I suppose the most obvious question is, what is a comet party? (And as a part-two to that question: why "comet party" instead of my own name? As an author, don't I kinda need to put my name all over this site?)The phrase "comet party" had been appearing again and again in my notebooks over the past few years. I knew it was important—a message from my subconscious, or whatever you want to call it—but I also knew that it wasn't meant to be a book title. I loved the idea of a bunch of astronomy geeks in tuxes and ball gowns getting together to drink champagne and watch a comet hurtle across the night sky.Over the past year or so, the comet metaphor has grown into a way of life for me. I want to live a bright and celebratory and deeply meaningful life, and I want to help other people figure out how to do the same. That's why I became a vegan lifestyle coach in June, and why I want to offer content to inspire readers to explore their creativity on a much deeper level. Like, scary deep. Awesome deep.As for why "Comet Party" instead of CamilleDeAngelis.com? (The original URL will redirect, by the way. I just need to finish transferring some files before I take down the old site.) I could certainly go on writing novels, eventually find a cushy teaching gig at a suburban liberal arts college, and live a happy life—but I'll be a great deal happier if I keep following the same instinct that led me to build this new site. I don't want to live a comfortable, complacent life. I want to be more than a writer. I feel the impulse to share what I've learned, and it would be wrong not to honor that.Over the past five years I've had several conversations with my sister about becoming the sort of blogger who, you know, gets comments from people she doesn't know in real life; and Kate pointed out that bloggers who focus on one subject will naturally have an easier time attracting readers. I know she's right, but I'm interested in so many things—and could you imagine my starting a bunch of separate blogs for each subject?! A miscellany has always made the most sense to me, so I'm sticking to it.The ongoing spam issue and having to turn off comments only amplified the feeling that I was talking to an empty room. But the real issue, for me, is a matter of blogging as a form of community building, and that's something I really want to work on through Comet Party. This will be our shindig, mine and yours.Writing-wise, travel-wise, vegan-wise, any-wise, if there's something in particular you'd like me to blog about, please do leave me a comment. And in the future I'll do a better job of asking for your input. I'm also going to adopt a proper blogging schedule so that if you're only really interested in, say, posts on books and writing, you can just check in with me on Mondays and leave it at that. I'll still be happy to have you.Of course, I hope everyone will be interested in Where We Make, my new weekly feature on artists' workspaces. Read this post for all the whys and wherefores. Here's the blogging schedule, by the way:
Mondays: The literary stuff. Book appreciations, my writing process, and suchlike.
Tuesdays: Either travel stories or something on a more directly spiritual topic. (Yes, this is new for me. I'm going to get way more honest with you.)
Wednesdays: Vegan is love, baby! Recipes. The philosophy. General lifestyle goodies (like where to find shoes that aren't made of plastic.)
Thursdays: All things arty and crafty. Fine art, knitting, sewing, embroidery, etc.
Fridays: Where We Make! The first entry (mine!) goes up at the end of this week.
What else is new? What else do I have planned?
- To celebrate the new site, I'll be offering some giveaways in the next couple of weeks—copies of the Petty Magic audiobook and a dessert out of Colleen Patrick-Goudreau's The Joy of Vegan Baking! Yes, I am actually going to bake and send you a box of cookies (or cake, or macaroons, or whatever; your choice!) Watch this space daily, because I am a really good baker if I do say so myself. I gotta spread the word that vegan baked goods can be thoroughly delicious, because everyone seems to have a story about a vegan brownie they bought in some random coffee shop that tasted like cocoa-flavored sidewalk chalk.
- In keeping with my new tagline, "experiments in incandescent living" (you can read more here about the concept of "an incandescent mind"), I'll be throwing myself into fun new ongoing projects and documenting them on the blog. The first is veganizing a series of recipes out of Cookery and Pastry, Susanna MacIver's 18th-century Scottish cookbook (you can read her recipe for "fairy butter" in one of my Hawthornden write-ups); and the second is vegan chocolatiering. I want to learn how make my own gourmet chocolates SO BAD, and once I have the basics down I want to make fancy stuff like the violet cremes you can find at Hope & Greenwood, that most magical of London candy shops. (There's more, but these two are plenty to start. And realistically, both will have to wait until 2014.)
- More Q&As with my favorite writers, artists, and vegan luminaries. My first Q&A is with McCormick Templeman, it's REALLY juicy (for you guys who love to read and talk about the joys and mysteries of the creative process), and it's going up next Monday! I'll also be interviewing crafty friends from Squam, new friends from Main Street Vegan Academy, and my unbelievably talented audiobook narrator, Kelley Hazen.
- Some Q&As will feature giveaways of brand-new books. (Rachel Cantor! More McCormick Templeman, because you can never get enough McCormick Templeman! And if you have other suggestions for cool folks to interview, I'm all ears. And fingers.)
- In keeping with my new role as a vegan lifestyle coach and educator, there's brand-new content on this site for the veg-curious: check out my resources page and the Vegan Q&A. I know most of you aren't vegan yet, and some of you have next to zero interest in the subject, but the information is there for you if you ever change your mind.
And finally, can I just tell you how PSYCHED I am to be using WordPress, which means you can comment whenever you feel like it? I really want to hear from you. Tell me if anything I've said here has prompted some sort of reaction in you—if you're also feeling this same desire to shrug off your own limiting beliefs about who you are, what you're capable of, and what you're really meant to be doing with your life.Tell me what you'd like me to write about.And tell me if you'd like to contribute to the new site in some way—whether on Where We Make or a Q&A.Thanks so much for all your friendship and support. I'm over-the-moon excited for this...as if you couldn't tell!
Where We Make: a new feature!
In 2008 and 2009 the Guardian ran a delightful series called Writers’ Rooms, pairing a photograph of a writer’s study with a brief but reflective essay on how they work in the space and draw inspiration from their surroundings: the pictures and knick-knacks on the wall, the books on the shelf, the particular style of desk chair, and what have you. Entries by or about George Bernard Shaw, Beryl Bainbridge, and Jane Gardam were particular favorites. (“I move around the room when it gets too untidy, like the Mad Hatter's Tea Party.” That cracks me up every time.)I was disappointed when the Guardian discontinued the series, and for years I wanted to start my own project to reboot the concept on more inclusive terms. I wanted to see the workspaces of all sorts of artists, emerging as well as established—and from all over the place, too, not just Britain! I know we all like the occasional peek inside other people's notebooks and studios, whether that artist is working in your field or something completely different (like hand-dying! My dear Amy Lou Stein—who dyes yarn and fabric, sews and knits and crochets and has a dedicated workspace I envy every time I visit—will be my very first contributor.)
But I didn’t have a workspace of my own that felt worth featuring (I generally wrote in a nondescript “quiet room” at my local library), so whenever I broached the idea with writers and painters I thought might be interested, they hesitated because I didn’t have any examples to show them. It’s true that I could’ve done my best with the impersonal space I was working in at the time, especially since I am also very interested in temporary workspaces, but maybe the idea was just biding its time.I’m happy to announce that I'm finally ready to launch Where We Make with a profile of my own current workspace. Now that I have a sample profile to point you to, how’s about it? Would you like to write about your own workspace for my weekly feature? Please email me with “Where We Make” in the subject line.Some things to keep in mind (you can consider these "submission guidelines" if you like):
- The format is super simple: one photo of the entire workspace (with or without you at work in it), and a brief essay of around 300 or so words. (One shot will probably suffice for us writers, but if you are an artist or designer and want to include more photos, that would be great!)
- I’m not snooty about the definition of “artist.” ANY sort of creative work qualifies here!
- This isn't just about showing off the scope of your personal library or the handsome prints on the wall above your desk. How you use the space you work in, whether you draw energy from it or zone it out, surround yourself with things that inspire you or sit down in a temporary space as if it's a blank slate—that's what I find really fascinating. So by all means take a picture of your table at the local coffee shop if that's where you work best.
- I will tweet, Facebook, and pin the heck out of your contribution. Yay for free publicity!
- If you are so inclined, please take a moment to leave a comment on a workspace profile, and we’ll both be very grateful.
I can't tell you how excited I am to launch this new feature! Thanks very much in advance for your interest and support.
Goodbye and Hello
Tomorrow I will build my new website with a very talented designer. I feel like I need a moment of silence for the old site, which Elliot built for me (including the spoon header design) in 2007 and David tweaked in 2010 when he fixed me up with a new blog. Despite frustrations with Movable Type and relentless Chinese spammers, this little home on the web has served me well for six and a half years.
So what's next? Beautiful things, unusual things, inspiring things. The new site will be like throwing a party that never ends.
Home from Uganda!
We're home from Uganda and Rwanda! I couldn't have asked for a better first trip to Africa. So many magical moments and feelings of peace and connectedness with my dear sister and friends--peace and connectedness with most of the people we met, come to think of it. Colin drove us everywhere we wanted to go, and by the end of the trip we considered him a true friend. What a lovely man.
Joyful dancing, singing, and drumming at Rushaga. (I also took video, coming in a future post.)
Sunrise at Queen Elizabeth National Park.
Kate and Elliot celebrated their tenth anniversary (!!!) on this trip.
Gorgeous landscapes nearly everywhere we went. This one en route to Bwindi Impenetrable Forest Park.
We camped in (or just outside) three national parks and in the backyards of two city hostels.
Jill, me, Spencer, Kate and Elliot, camping on our own little terrace overlooking Kigali, the capital of Rwanda.
Zebras at Lake Mburo.
Inside the minaret at the national mosque in Kampala.
We watched a pair of lionesses sleeping in a fig tree at Ishasha (at Queen Liz).
We are so ready for Broadway.
Everywhere we went, children waved and smiled and called out to us (these little girls were until the moment I took out my camera). Friendliest kids ever!
Spotted on the drive from Kigali (in Rwanda) to Mbarara (back in Uganda).
We saw lots of baby animals on our safari drives. This one is a vervet monkey at Lake Mburo. AGGHHHHH SO CUTE.
An elephant and her wee one, spotted at Queen Liz.
In this (accidental) shot Elliot looks like he is four years old and has just gotten away with something naughty.More photos coming next week, hopefully. (I'm building my new website on Wednesday, and I'm not sure how long the blog will be on hiatus while I make all the necessary tweaks. More on this tomorrow!)
Gone Swimmin'
We're off to Uganda and Rwanda tomorrow! ("We" being me, Kate, Elliot, Jill and Spencer--the whole Peru crew.)
You have to strategize when planning your trip reading and knitting; the reading must be enjoyable but not so much of a page-turner that you blow through it and have nothing to occupy you afterward, and the knitting must be very portable and relatively mindless. Socks are ideal, but I haven't felt like knitting socks for a good while now, so I'm going to start on this cardigan in happy yellow Hempathy yarn (made of hemp, cotton, and modal). I need more yellow in my life. As for reading material, The Uses of Enchantment is easier than it looks. Fairy tales + psychology!Catch you on the flip side—two more entries after this one in September, and then I get a brand-new website!
The "Happy Meat" Myth
I have often heard the word "humane" used in relation to meat, dairy, eggs, and other products like cosmetics. I have always found this curious, because my understanding is that humane means to act with kindness, tenderness, and mercy. I can tell you as a former animal farmer that while it may be true that you can treat a farm animal kindly and show tenderness toward them, mercy is a different matter.
A few weeks ago I reposted this photo and caption from my friend Stephanie's Facebook page. Someone (whom I quietly unfriended) commented, "So that's how he jumped over the moon." (What upset me most about that comment wasn't its callousness, but the fact that this person is a parent, and will therefore be passing this attitude along to his child; and his child deserves better than that.)There is heinous cruelty perpetrated upon animals in factory farms all over this country, and unless you are a jerk (see above) it is more difficult to deny this fact once you've seen such an image. A couple of friends left more respectful comments, saying they purchase their dairy products from a local farmer. I know they mean well, and I'm glad they don't support factory farming any more than I do, but there is a lot of wishful thinking involved here. We like to believe that "happy cows" and "happy pigs" and "happy chickens" actually exist at those smaller farms, and while they may escape the most horrible forms of abuse like what the cow in the photo went through, they are still not treated as the pets or friends-on-four-legs the dairy and meat industry marketing campaigns would have you believe them to be.I am the first person to admit that before I went vegan I poured ordinary cow's milk (i.e., from a factory farm) on my Cheerios without giving a thought to the way those cows had been treated. I wanted to ask those Facebook friends, "How many times have you actually eaten hamburgers, steak, or bacon without knowing for certain that it came from an organic family farm, where the animals are treated 'humanely'? Never? Are you really that perfect?" Nobody is. Perhaps my definition of "humane" differs from the dictionary's, but as you know, I believe in the power of semantics. The use of the word humane, to me, begs a simple question: would I, as a human, want to be treated this way?
- I wouldn't want to live in a crate, cage, or stall, standing up to my ankles in my own feces.
- I wouldn't want my eggs or breastmilk taken from me on a daily basis. (My eggs! Crazy, right? We do tend to forget we have essentially the same reproductive equipment as the animals we eat.)
- I wouldn't want my child taken from me, destined to be somebody's dinner.
Am I just anthropomorphizing again? Do animals really have feelings of their own? Let's reframe. What would you do if you found yourself in a slaughterhouse queue? Is it safe to say you'd do absolutely anything to save your own life? So did this cow (and he's not the only one).When I was a child, I was lied to about how and why cows produce milk. I was told that cows "gave" milk every day as a matter of nature, and that farmers were doing them a favor by relieving their udders--that it was a "win-win" situation. No one told me that cows had to be forcibly impregnated before they could produce milk, just as my mother had to carry me in her womb before she could breastfeed me.Ultimately this "happy cow" stuff comes down to marketing versus honesty. If you want to eat animal products, that is, of course, your choice. But don't deceive yourself. Those cows, pigs, and chickens aren't remotely happy so long as we are exploiting their bodies for food.
God, grant me the courage to know what happens to animals, and the grace not to hate humans because of it.-- Victoria Moran (@Victoria_Moran) July 10, 2013
Is there Happy Meat? "The Ultimate Betrayal" lifts the veil of secrecy surrounding animal farming http://t.co/QKt48aqqyF #FactoryFarms #Book— VNN (@VeganNewsNet) August 22, 2013
Ajanta & Ellora
I never did finish blogging about India! My last stop (after Hampi and Hyderabad to see Golconda) was Aurangabad, the best base for visiting the marvelous caves at Ajanta and Ellora. I'd misunderstood my sister when she told me about these Buddhist monuments; I thought she'd visited them herself, but she hadn't been able to venture that far south when she was doing a law school program in Delhi (and elsewhere) in 2009; so I went down the walkways between the caves happily thinking I was walking in her footsteps. We've said we can't really do India together, since I did the southern half and she did the northern half. Each of us has already seen what the other one would like to. (Good thing there are plenty of other places in the world...like, say, Uganda!)Anyway, this is going to be more of a photo dump than a proper entry. Ajanta and Ellora are each a series of rock-cut temples, both within easy reach of Aurangabad. The "caves" at Ajanta were built between the second and fifth century CE, Ellora's between the fifth and tenth centuries. As I toured each of these sites I kept thinking about what life must have been like for the Buddhist monks who painted the walls and carved the arches and columns and sculptures of all sizes—to toil in what must have been dangerous conditions for an end result they wouldn't live to see. It would have been a life very much like those who built the great cathedrals of Europe, I imagine. Fascinating and awe-inspiring and exquisite.
Our guide told us the artist-monks made those hollows in the floor to mix and contain their pigments.
I was blessed to find a new friend from Switzerland on the bus ride to Ajanta. Julien and I got lunch at the site, and it was delicious. (I just skipped that yogurty-looking stuff on the right.)The next day we hired a rickshaw to take us to Ellora—which, true to reputation, was even more awe-inspiring than Ajanta:
(I love this shot—a simple but powerful gesture of awe and humility and gratitude.)
(Ha! Not likely!)
Find a Way In
It doesn't matter that this is my sixth novel--sometimes I still feel overwhelmed. When I was pushing past it during my retreat with Elizabeth earlier this month, I jotted down a few strategies to share with you.
1. Take dictation.Pretend you are behind a two-way mirror in this imaginary universe of yours. No concern for beats, tags, or description. Just listen and go.2. Run with a juicy tidbit.Take a detail you are particularly pleased with, and spin it out. You might end up with a sentence, a paragraph or a page, and it's progress any way. For example--and you probably won't consider this "juicy," hah--I am a little bit fascinated with the bodies of elderly people. When I picture the shape of my grandfather's face when he isn't wearing his dentures, or how the skin of a very old person sometimes reminds me of twice-used tissue paper, or the remarkable ears of a man I once met at a B&B in County Down, I actually get a little bit excited to describe them. You have to harness that feeling whenever it happens!3. Remember your audience (and cheering section).I have a clear memory of walking down a certain Galway street with my friend Seanan several years ago (Dominick Street, crossing to Ravens Terrace; can't remember where we were headed), telling him about a story I was calling "Apparition Hill." I knew why I needed to tell this particular story, and what it might mean for anyone who chose to read it. When I recall the urgency and excitement I felt in that moment, I remember that I can do this.
How I Get My Protein
The first question people generally ask vegans is, "Where do you get your protein?"There are PLENTY of protein sources in the plant world. Here's a brief list:--nuts: almonds, walnuts, cashews, etc.--seeds: chia, pumpkin seeds, flaxseed, sesame, sunflower, hemp...--beans and legumes: lentils, chickpeas, soybeans/tofu, kidney beans, peas...--vegetables: broccoli, asparagus, cauliflower, watercress, corn, brussels sprouts...--mushrooms: portobello, maitake, etc.--quinoa--nutritional yeastSure, you get protein from meat and dairy products, but you also get lots of saturated fat, cholesterol, hormones, and chemicals, all of which are known to promote cancer, heart disease, and diabetes. Protein from plants is therefore highly preferable to animal sources.Perhaps the next question a meat-eater will ask is, can you get enough protein solely from plant sources? First of all, you don't need as much protein as you think you do; as T. Colin Campbell says in The China Study:
"We do not need #protein in excess of what is provided in a normal, whole-food, plant-based diet." @TColinCampbell
-- Victoria Moran (@Victoria_Moran) August 9, 2013
To show you I get plenty of protein on a vegan diet, I measured and tallied up everything I ate on August 15, 2013, waiting until afterward to figure out my ideal protein intake (so you don't have to wonder if I changed anything about my diet for the sake of the experiment).
I should also preface this demonstration by telling you that right now I'm living on a college campus and eating almost all my meals in the school dining hall. It isn't the most vegan-friendly eatery in the world, but I make do, and if I can get enough protein, vitamins, and minerals in this less-than-ideal situation, then so can you.This was a fairly typical day for me eating-wise, although I don't make it to breakfast if I'm going to a 9am yoga class. Last Thursday I was going to yoga at 4pm, so I had half a grapefruit, tea, and a healthy helping of oatmeal with raisins and almond milk. (They do usually have almond milk, bless them. And yes, I did bring a measuring cup to the dining hall!):
At lunchtime there was quite a bit of curiosity and amusement among my friends-slash-colleagues when I sat down to measure my vegetables.
For lunch, I usually have a big salad with field greens or spinach, chickpeas, tomato, broccoli, tofu, peas, carrots, and onion, topped with hummus or some Goddess dressing from Trader Joe's if I have it (they have olive oil and balsamic vinegar in the dining hall, but this tahini dressing takes any salad from pretty good to thoroughly delicious.)
Did I really eat all that? Why yes, yes I did. It took me about forty minutes though, haha.
(And I ate that last piece of broccoli too.)
Then I snarfed down most of a pint of blueberries before yoga class.Since I was spending the evening knitting with Kath and Amy Lou, I grabbed a falafel sandwich and an organic carrot juice from Trader Joe's for a quick dinner (along with the last of the blueberries).
Check out how much protein I got in this sandwich: twenty-four grams!!! (And an additional 4 grams from the carrot juice.)
And for a snack when I got home, half a cup of raw almonds and a banana.Then I tallied up the protein using either the food labels or the USDA National Nutrient Database:
A hundred grams of protein!!! I was actually shocked when I added this up. I know I don't need anywhere near this much--and you can see how easy it was. But for the sake of thoroughness, let me figure out the recommended intake for my weight using the standard guideline as explained in Brenda Davis and Vesanto Melina's Becoming Vegan:
The protein in foods such as tofu, textured soy protein, meat substitutes, and refined grains is as digestible as that in animal products...Whole grains, beans, and vegetables have a tremendous range of health benefits, including an abundance of fiber, phytochemicals, trace minerals, and vitamins. At the same time, these foods are slightly less digestible than some of the more refined and processed plant foods. Thus, with diets composed of whole plant foods, some experts suggest that a factor of 10-15% be added to cover differences in protein digestibility. For vegans on predominantly whole foods diets, a figure of 0.9 g protein per kg body weight is suggested.
So to figure out how much protein you should be getting on a daily basis, just multiply your weight in kilograms by 0.9 (the U.S. RDA guideline is 0.8, by the way, so 0.9 is definitely erring on the side of caution). I weigh about 150 pounds (68 kg), so my protein recommendation is 61 grams. With an intake of 100 grams, even if I were pregnant I'd still be getting plenty of protein! I guess the real question to ask here isn't "am I getting enough?" but "am I getting too much?"--hilariously ironic given just how many times I've heard people ask how I can get enough protein on a vegan diet.I didn't tally up the calories, but if I got sufficient protein then it's safe to say I got enough. Something to keep in mind if you are transitioning to veganism: just make sure to EAT enough to satisfy yourself--enjoying healthy-fat foods like almonds (or almond butter), olive oil, and avocados--and you won't lose weight (unless you want to, of course; then you'd go easy on the olive oil!)
The Lost Religion of Jesus
Rosslyn Chapel.And to all the beasts of the earth and all the birds in the sky and all the creatures that move along the ground—everything that has the breath of life in it—I give every green plant for food." And it was so.
(Genesis 1:30)
If you have men who will exclude any of God's creatures from the shelter of compassion and pity, then you have men who will deal likewise with their fellow men.
—St. Francis of Assisi
Within Christianity there is not a real consciousness about diet. But someday the Church will wake up and realize that an ethical diet is necessary to a moral way of life.
—Brother Ron Pickarski, OFM
While I was at Hawthornden back in January, I went with a few of my fellow writers to the Sunday service at the 15th-century Rosslyn Chapel. We'd come mostly to soak up the medieval atmosphere; it's been a long time since I set foot in a church hoping to emerge again with any sort of insight or answer.The second time I attended this Church of Scotland service, the minister—a jovial middle-aged man—opened his sermon with a joke about the Findus horse meat scandal. I stared at him in disbelief. As he segued into a second joke about Little Bo Peep finding her sheep on the shelf at Tesco, I took a white-knuckled grip on my seat in the pew, quivering with indignation (and if you know me, you know I'm not exaggerating).I didn't hear another word he said. All I could think was, How can I look to this person for spiritual guidance?Until that moment, I might have made a casual assertion now and then that Jesus was a vegetarian. But when I heard the minister make those jokes about the slaughter of innocent animals, I knew it was true. How could the man who preached "do unto others," a man we sometimes refer to as "the prince of peace," actually sit down to dine on animal flesh?Turns out there's a wealth of evidence to support this intuition, and a trove of interesting books to interpret it. I recently finished The Lost Religion of Jesus: Simple Living and Nonviolence in Early Christianity by Keith Akers, and right now I'm reading Rynn Berry's Food for the Gods: Vegetarianism and the World's Religions. You'll recall that Professor Berry gave us an excellent talk on the history of veganism on our last morning at Main Street Vegan Academy; and before we go any further, I should underline the rich historical precedent for vegetarianism. The Greek mathematician and philosopher Pythagoras, whom you remember as the guy who came up with a2 + b2 = c2, was also an ethical vegetarian; his many followers (and all who came after) were known as "Pythagoreans" up until the mid 19th century, when the word "vegetarian" was coined.In Food for the Gods, Berry writes:
Evidence for Jesus's vegetarianism in the canonical gospels is circumstantial, but nonetheless compelling. Ethical vegetarians find it inconceivable that such a potent religious figure and moral teacher could have slit the throat of an animal, or have eaten the cooked body parts of an animal. Apart from the moral impropriety of such a diet, flesh (not excluding the flesh of fish) was an extremely scarce commodity in the ancient world and would have been considered a luxurious food; it would have been out of character for a man who stressed simplicity and frugality in living to be eating such opulent food.
Speaking of frugality and simple living, I'll give you just one reason why I feel so uneasy in the religion I inherited, and why I avoid my hometown parish: the pastor built himself a three-car garage to house his Lexus (and two other cars, perhaps?) I'm certainly not saying the man should be living in a hovel and walking two miles to work, but a fancy car and a three-car garage built with parish funds don't qualify as "simple living" by any stretch of the imagination. People like to think of themselves as "good Christians," but how many of them actually live by the principles Jesus espoused?But I'm getting ahead of myself here. How do we know what Jesus really said—and what he actually ate? We must re-examine everything we think we know about him, teasing out the underlying motives of early church leaders. The Bible, as any rational Christian will admit, was written by human beings, each of whom had their own agenda. Nor does the Bible contain every worthy piece of scripture; many documents written by early followers and contemporaries of Jesus were jettisoned (or perhaps "suppressed" is a more accurate term) by Church "fathers." The discovery of the Nag Hammadi gospels in Egypt in 1945 yielded alternative accounts of Jesus's life and message, such as the Gospel of Thomas, the Acts of Philip, and the Apocalypse of James. Keith Akers also draws on contemporary sources (like Epiphanius of Salamis), not all of whom were sympathetic toward those Jewish sects who lived by the teachings of Jesus (and if someone who obviously doesn't like or agree with you says nice things about you, we can feel that much more confident that those nice things are true).Akers makes the distinction, first and foremost, between Jewish Christians and gentile Christians. The first group was comprised of several similar sects, many of whom were considered heretical by the Jewish establishment; the Jewish Christians believed that Jesus was the prophet of whom Moses spoke, and that he had come not to establish his own religion, but to correct the false and adulterated parts of their scriptures (directions for animal sacrifice being but one example). Jewish Christian sects like the Ebionites (from the Hebrew ebionim, "the poor") lived in pacifist communities, pooling their resources and eating a vegetarian diet. It is very likely that Jesus lived and preached within just such a community; the apocryphal scriptures indicate that he overturned the money-changers' tables in the temple because he was opposed to the needless slaughter of oxen, sheep, goats, pigeons, and doves—that there was nothing "holy" about it! The priests, who lived on these offerings, were none too pleased of course—and if all this is true, it follows that Jesus would be arrested and crucified on the priests' instigation. (So many things about my religion just didn't make sense to me until I read these books.)As for gentile Christianity, Akers makes a fascinating point: that pacifism was a highly inconvenient principle vis-à-vis Constantine and his army, who converted en masse after the emperor, prompted by a vision, bade his army mark their shields with crosses before a military triumph. It is this faction, of course, which took over the "Christian" message and its dissemination, diluting or overlooking the most basic tenets of nonviolence and simple living. The Jewish Christians remembered and lived by these principles, but they weren't accepted by either orthodox Judaism or gentile Christianity, and as pacifists they suffered tremendously through a series of Jewish revolts against Rome in 66-70, 117, and 132-135 CE. Though contemporary sources tell us they regrouped at Pella after the first revolt around 70 CE, and through geographical description Matthew pinpoints his own location in that vicinity (thus bolstering the case that the Ebionites' version of the gospel was the original), Jewish Christianity was destined to remain on the fringes of this new world religion. Akers writes, "When the larger gentile Christian church drove out Jewish Christianity...it also lost the core of Jesus' teachings." Hugely influential Church fathers like St. Paul, who introduced the concept of "original sin," were instrumental in this adulteration process; contemporary sources tell us that the Jewish Christians were ardently opposed to Paul's methods, believing that he corrupted Jesus's teachings to suit his own ends. Those who came out on top politically were those who established the doctrine—a belief system Jesus himself would not recognize.
While the church rejected the requirement for vegetarianism, it is indisputable that there were very large numbers of vegetarians in early Christianity. In fact, there are hardly any references to any early Christians eating meat. The view that Jesus ate meat creates a paradox: vegetarianism was practiced by the apostles and numerous early followers of Jesus, including Jesus' own brother, but not by Jesus himself! It is as if everyone in the early church understood the message except the messenger. The much more likely explanation is that the original tradition was vegetarian, but that under the pressure of expediency and the popularity of Paul's writings in the second century, vegetarianism was first dropped as a requirement and finally even as a desideratum.
—Keith Akers, The Lost Religion of Jesus
* * *
Regarding Jesus's possible vegetarianism, the first problem that comes to mind is that classic story of the loaves and the fishes. In Food for the Gods, Professor Berry points out that we must revisit the original Greek to find out if there actually were fishes served at that wedding feast:
Now, most translators render opsaria as sardines or little fish, but opsaria which comes from the Greek opson (relish) also meant "relish"; so it's possible to translate it as five loaves and two "relishes," "dainties," or "tidbits."
Professor Berry mentioned in his lecture that "relish" is the primary meaning of the original word used, and "little fish" only the tertiary meaning. Furthermore, bread with some sort of relish was a commonplace meal in first-century Palestine:
In Jesus's time, they dipped their loaf in relish or they tore off pieces of bread from the loaf and dipped it in the opsarion, or relish, which might have consisted of finely chopped olives with spices or ground sesame paste.
In other words, "The Loaves and the Fishes" might rightfully be retranslated as "The Loaves and the Hummus." Of course, Rynn Berry and his colleagues have pointed out other mistranslations; considering man's place among the animals, for instance, "dominion" is very different from "stewardship." It's the difference between a guardian and a slave driver. As the Rev. Andrew Linzey says in his Food for the Gods interview, "The original author [of Genesis] was seeking to describe a relationship—not of egotistical exploitation—but of care for the earth. It's extraordinary that almost 2,000 years of biblical exegesis should so often have overlooked the radical vegetarian message in Genesis I."As I sat through the rest of the sermon that morning, I knew I had a choice to make. I could behave as I always had—i.e., fuming in silence—or I could push past the nervous twisting in my guts to speak my mind in a calm, rational, mature way. I really didn't want to walk to the back of the church when the service was over, and wait in the vestibule doorway while a mother and her young son spoke to the reverend about some ordinary piece of church business—but I knew I had to if I was going to become the person I'd been saying I wanted to grow into. (I'm reminded of something else Rev. Linzey said in his interview: "At particular moments, almost against oneself, one finds the energy to do seemingly impossible things.")So I waited. And once the parishioners had said goodbye, I stepped forward. "Reverend, may I tell you what's on my mind?" He said yes, of course, and I went on, "I was upset by the Little Bo Peep joke you made at the beginning of your sermon. I believe that if we want to see peace in the world we have to start with our own stomachs"—he laughed when I said this, but not unkindly—"and that's why I'm vegan. I'm not going to try to convince you of anything, I just needed to express this to you."The minister replied in a warm and genuinely concerned attitude, apologizing if he had offended me and remarking that he had several colleagues who were vegan. I thanked him for allowing me to "speak my truth" and rejoined my friends in the pew. But I couldn't focus on their conversation; my whole body thrummed with excited energy. I'd been able to turn that knot of frustrated nervous disappointment in my stomach into something constructive, and there is no way I can adequately describe to you just how wonderful it felt.I guess we'll never know for certain that Jesus was a vegetarian, but there is far too much "circumstantial" evidence to overlook the idea. He taught his followers to love God, and love one another—indeed, the entire religion is based upon this simple principle!—and if we are to conduct our lives in this way, it ultimately makes no sense to practice compassion only for our fellow humans.In this blog post I am truly only scratching the surface of this topic; if you are a devout Christian, I highly encourage you to read these books, and think long and critically about what you believe in. I've put together this (non-exhaustive) reading list for myself (drawn from the extensive bibliographies of Berry and Akers), and it includes titles by veg(etari)an theologians:
Is God a Vegetarian?: Christianity, Vegetarianism, and Animal Rights by Richard A. Young
The Vegetarianism of Jesus Christ by Charles Vaclavik
The Birth of Christianity: Reality and Myth by Joel Carmichael
Jewish Christianity: Factional Disputes in the Early Church by Hans-Joachim Schoeps [this one I'll have to find at a good library!]
The Master: His Life and Teachings by John Todd FerrierThe Other Gospels: The Non-Canonical Gospel Texts, edited by Ron Cameron
Animal Theology and Christianity and the Rights of Animals by Rev. Andrew Linzey
Dominion: the Power of Man, the Suffering of Animals, and the Call to Mercy by Matthew Scully
For Love of Animals: Christian Ethics, Consistent Action by Charles Camosy.
I no longer feel comfortable identifying myself as a Christian for reasons outlined above—and yet, as a vegan, I want to follow Jesus's example in a way I never felt inspired to do when I was a card-carrying Catholic.
What is "extreme"?
Once upon a time, if I ever heard someone call veganism "drastic" or "extreme," I wouldn't have disagreed. Back then, going without cheese did seem too difficult to consider as a viable lifestyle option.
ex·treme[ik-streem] ex·trem·er, ex·trem·estnoun, adjective1. of a character or kind farthest removed from the ordinary or average: extreme measures.2. utmost or exceedingly great in degree: extreme joy.3. farthest from the center or middle; outermost; endmost: the extreme limits of a town.4. farthest, utmost, or very far in any direction: an object at the extreme point of vision.5. exceeding the bounds of moderation: extreme fashions.
Today I believe we often use words like "drastic" and "extreme" to label things we just don't feel brave enough to contemplate. We forget that the unknown, by definition, contains just as many possibilities for "extreme joy" as big bad scary things—and that "the big bad scary things" might only be a matter of faulty labeling, too.So I'd like to offer some perspective—to reframe these words, if you will. Here is a short list of things I consider "extreme":1. Open heart surgery, or blitzing your body with toxic radiation.They saw your chest open, for crying out loud! The links between animal foods and disease are scientifically irrefutable. How is giving up cheeseburgers "extreme" in the face of such massive health consequences?2. Anal electrocution.Just so some clueless human can wear their fur? This is not just extreme—it is cruel and insane.3. Losing your beak, or losing your life before it's even started.At poultry farms it is standard practice to singe off the beaks of female chicks so they won't peck each other out of desperation in their hideously claustrophobic cages, and to throw "useless" boy chicks into a grinder—or leave them to die in a trash can. These are reasons why I will never eat another omelet as long as I live. (You'd like to think family-run farms don't engage in these inhumane practices, but you cannot be completely sure of this unless you are keeping your own chickens. Earlier this week I watched Vegucated for the first time, and it includes disturbing footage from a farm that bills itself as small, organic, family run, etc. They say they have to resort to such practices in order to compete with the larger factory farm operations.)Yes, these facts are horrible and disgusting. I absolutely wish that none of this stuff existed outside of nightmares. But if you find it disturbing, you are proving my point.
Three Days in Providence
Last week Elizabeth and I tucked ourselves away and, fridge stocked, settled into making some serious headway on our novels. I'm only just starting mine, but Elizabeth was finishing hers--a HUGE accomplishment. (I am so proud of her!)
1. identify the essential.2. eliminate the rest.-- dana theloverfly ☥ (@theloverfly) August 8, 2013
But first, a trip to the beach with Henry and Daisy. So glad we did, because it turned out to be the only sunny day of my visit!
One is happier and more productive when one is eating (and drinking) healthy delicious things. (Remember what Virginia said?) In the morning Elizabeth made us the most gorgeous fresh juices.It's funny, you'd think that since I already had a complete outline and 10,000 words (from the spring of 2011) under my belt, I would be feeling totally confident and ready to work. Ha! The truth is, you feel these doubts whether you're embarking on your first novel or your sixth--although if it's a subsequent novel you can at least make the logical argument to yourself that "you've done it before, so you can do it again."
From the Sequester. Taken by Camille. Do note the high tech writing equipment including pink beach... http://t.co/uARzW68eGy-- squam (@squamlove) August 9, 2013
And of course, it makes all the difference to have a friend and fellow writer working in the next room; you aren't going to fritter away any time on the internet when you know SHE is working! I highly, highly recommend setting yourself up in a "sequester" situation with a writing partner. Even if you can't go away (to a B&B, or housesitting, or wherever), you can still turn off your cellphone, stock the fridge, unplug the WiFi and get down to business.
Writing in bed, rain pattering, delicious cool breeze through the windows. This retreat with @squamlove has been so nourishing & productive!-- Camille DeAngelis (@comet_party) August 9, 2013
Compassion is Contagious™
My friend Stephanie has been doing a great deal of work recently with animals who are on their way to the slaughterhouse. Watching the videos, tweets, and posts coming out of amazing volunteer movements like Toronto Pig Save has reinforced for me that concern for animal welfare IS spirituality: this is what "the interconnectedness of all living things" actually means. Other humans will soon end their lives in a very violent way, and yet this sort of aid—a drink of water, a few loving words, a brief physical connection of hand and snout—can still make a world of difference to these sentient creatures.Toronto Pig Save put together the following short video to show you what they do. It's been a brutally hot summer, but I have a fan, a shower, access to drinking water whenever I need it, and my absolute freedom. These pigs don't enjoy any of those blessings.As I watched this video I kept thinking of the times in my life when I was thirsty. I tried to imagine that feeling magnified to this degree, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to be confined like this, and in such unbearable heat.People sometimes say "you're just anthropomorphizing these animals," but I don't think so. You can see how desperate these pigs are for water—just as you or I would be. We humans don't have a monopoly on basic needs, or basic feelings.
What would happen if slaughterhouses had glass walls? @PaulMcCartney explains. WATCH & RT! VIDEO: http://t.co/Ozw5RdHhWe-- PETA (@peta) July 29, 2013
Of course, these activities are not limited to Toronto. In response to her Facebook and Twitter posts, Stephanie has been receiving inquiries and messages of support from all over the world, and she is helping to develop a broader organization called the Global SAVE Movement (Stop Animal Violence Everywhere). Here's a video she put up recently about setting up a SAVE group in your own community:On the surface, to focus on becoming a vessel of love and compassion might not seem all that "practical" or "effective." Yes, the animals are still going to die. But if you think back on the last time you were having a really shitty day and someone offered you a hug, a listening ear, and a heartfelt "I love you," you remember that these intangible gifts DO make a difference. (I love the Global Save Movement tagline, Compassion is Contagious™. For some downright hardwarming evidence that this is so, watch this "30 Days" episode in which a hardcore hunter goes to live with a family of vegan activists.)I'll end with a Youtube comment (on the first video) I found particularly cogent:
Global Animal Welfare Development Society
(Check out this interactive map to see where SAVE groups are popping up worldwide.)
Global SAVE Movement on Facebook
New York Pig Save on Facebook
Green Juice
I can't overstate what a fantastic investment in your health is a high-quality juicer. I am only half kidding when I say it's the best Christmas present I have ever received. (Thank you, Babbo!)
Dinosaur kale and giant cucumbers from the Copley farmers' market, celery, green apples, lemon and grapefruit = a perfect green juice.
(Juice-o-rama; More Juicin'.)
Are You Addicted to Cheese?
I used to love dairy cheese—my favorite was the Cotswold cheddar with chives you can find at Trader Joe's. I used to put it in sandwiches with avocado, or eat it plain. So many of my most comforting food memories revolve around cheese: my sister eating Peccorino Romano with a spoon as fast as our grandmother Dorothy could grate it before a spaghetti dinner ("The kid's got expensive taste," our grandfather remarked sardonically); Grandmom Kass serving up a perfectly browned grilled cheese, the American melted and gooey inside; a thoroughly delicious Italian "pie" with extra cheese in a dimly lit booth at Marra's in South Philly; ribollita topped with more top-quality parmesan, a satisfying lunch after a morning of classes at La Pietra in Florence.So when people ask if I miss cheese, they are probably surprised when I say no. I understand now that cows suffer so we can have milk and cheese, and nothing is so delicious that it can make me forget where it came from and how it was made. But this post isn't going to focus on animal rights. This time I want to talk about your health.
Pizza made with Trader Joe's vegan mozzarella.When I used to joke that I was addicted to cheese, I didn't realize I wasn't actually kidding. Dairy cheese contains casomorphin, which is an opiate. As Bill Clinton notes in a recent interview (thanks for the link, Mike!), "The main thing that was hard for me actually—much harder than giving up meat, turkey, chicken and fish—was giving up yogurt and hard cheese."Furthermore, we have a tendency to think that it's only red meat that will make us seriously ill in the long term, but if you read The China Study you'll see that T. Colin Campbell's research shows dairy consumption to be just as detrimental to one's health:
As we have seen with other forms of cancer, large-scale observational studies show a link between prostate cancer and an animal-based diet, particularly one based heavily on dairy. Understanding the mechanisms behind the observed link between prostate cancer and dairy clinches the argument. The first mechanism concerns a hormone that increases cancer cell growth, a hormone that our bodies make, as needed. This growth hormone, Insulin-like Growth Factor (IGF-1), is turning out to be a predictor of cancer just as cholesterol is a predictor for heart disease...It turns out that consuming animal-based foods increases the blood levels of this growth hormone, IGF-1.
Oh, and those "Got Milk?" ads from the '90s? Total baloney:
Americans consume more cow's milk and its products per person than most populations in the world. So Americans should have wonderfully strong bones, right? Unfortunately not...those countries that use the most cow's milk and its products also have the highest fracture rates and the worst bone health. One possible explanation is found in a report showing an impressively strong association between animal protein intake and bone fracture rate for women in different countries...[A]nimal protein, unlike plant protein, increases the acid load in the body...[calcium] ends up being pulled from the bones, and the calcium loss weakens them, putting them at greater risk for fracture. We have had evidence for well over a hundred years that animal protein decreases bone health.
...
Obviously neither kids nor their parents are learning about how milk has been linked to Type 1 diabetes, prostate cancer, osteoporosis, multiple sclerosis or other autoimmune diseases, and how casein, the main protein in dairy foods, has been shown to experimentally promote cancer and increase blood cholesterol and atherosclerotic plaque.
In other words, you might still end up with heart disease on a lacto-vegetarian diet.There are, of course, less dramatic health benefits. Give up dairy and you'll spend way less time on the toilet, and your skin will clear up too. Since giving up dairy my system runs more smoothly in general.
Salad topped with Treeline cheese. This stuff is AMAZINGLY delicious--rich and creamy like goat's cheese.
So what can you eat instead of dairy cheese?I tried rice cheese back in college, and I'm not going to lie to bolster my case here: that stuff was gross. Thankfully, culinary R&D has made huge strides in the past ten years. Today, if you wanted, you could actually substitute vegan cheeses for "the real thing" tit for tat, using products by Daiya and Follow Your Heart and Treeline and Dr. Cow and more I haven't had the chance to try yet. (It's also quite easy to make your own, and you can achieve a firmer cheese using a dehydrator.) Got a hankering for grilled cheese or pizza? Daiya melts like dairy cheese, and tastes rather like it too. Hors-d'oeuvres? Offer some Dr. Cow tree-nut cheeses and watch your meat-loving friends gobble it up on fancy crackers (as I did at a Black Friday dinner party a couple years back). My dad has even made me a traditional lasagna using vegan ricotta! True, the flavor is not the same, but as I said earlier this week, I wouldn't want these products to taste too much like dairy cheese.Furthermore, most of the time I don't feel the need for cheese analogs; I can count on one hand (okay, maybe one and a half) the number of times I've purchased vegan cheese in the past two years. When I "gave it up," I realized just how little I needed or wanted it.Of course, it's easy for me to say this as someone who has already dealt with my cheese addiction. My advice for breaking yours is simple: if you really don't think you'll be able to give it up 1-2-3, just start using whichever alternatives most appeal to you, and gradually wean yourself off the traditional cheddar, parmesan, and so forth. Tastebuds regenerate every three to fourteen days (depending on whom you ask), which means that a food you found a little too "healthy" in August might taste downright delicious in September, provided you give it a second and third chance. A cheese addiction can be kicked just like any other habit, and in less time than you might expect!
LOVED @erinred's post on 12 Reasons to NOT Eat Dairy, so we turned it into an infographic! pic.twitter.com/g3rneSW1eg-- SAVVY Rochester (@SAVVYRochester) March 24, 2013
Selfish Knitting
On our way to the beach yesterday, Elizabeth and I got to talking about selfish knitting. I'd been feeling it for awhile, but this was the first time I'd actually put the right words around it: when it comes to making things for other people, I am tapped out.For years now I've prided myself on my handmade gifts--and before I got into knitting and sewing, I did quite a bit of stained glass. (I've since given up that hobby since it's relatively messy and potentially dangerous, at least for an absent-minded crafter like myself.) The gifts I made were often very time consuming, but it felt worth it once I figured out who my more appreciative friends were. I love my friends and I love their babies, and I'm sure someday I will feel excited about knitting for them again; but it doesn't make any sense to make something because I feel like I ought to, and that's just where I'm at right now.Ultimately this has to do with my being kinder to myself. I can't knit and sew my own wardrobe (an ambition I see as both a creative and political act) if I'm making things for other people. I want to be more like Momo on Ravelry, who has knit herself literally hundreds of gorgeous sweaters. (I'll be good with a dozen, but you get my point.) I will no longer feel guilty for using my skills for my own benefit; and, frankly, if someone I know wants something handmade, I am happy to show them how to make it themselves.So this embroidery is the last thing I'll be making as a gift for a good long while:
It's almost done (and long overdue--it was supposed to be ready for Christmas!)In between finishing that up, I'm knitting myself a Pomegranate. (I'm wearing the sample in the Squam pic below.)
And while we're on the subject of selfish knitting, I want to send a shout-out to my dear friend Anne, a longtime knitter who recently finished her very first sweater for HERSELF. May it be the first of many!
Your Health is Up to You
While I was in Scotland earlier this year, I made a friend who quite enjoys her bacon and sausage. At the dinner table one night, we got to talking about disease and genetics. "I already know how I'm going to go," she announced. (She is younger than I am, by the way.) "My family has a history of heart disease.""People say that, but it's not one's family medical history, it's the fact that you're all eating the same food," I argued. "You won't die of heart disease if you change your diet."My friend gave me a helpless look as if to say, No, really, it's out of my hands. Then she took another bite of her shepherd's pie.This attitude is tragically prevalent. Why do we expect people to take responsibility for their decisions in every aspect of life BUT their personal health?Here's how I see it. So-and-so has a heart attack, or is diagnosed with cancer, and we are expected to react with complete sympathy, as if the disease chose them at random. The patient's poor diet feels like "the elephant in the room," even as an orderly arrives with a lunch tray brimming with highly processed, chemical-laden animal products--down to the cherry jello jiggling in the little plastic cup.Blaming bad genes while continuing to eat food that research has proven time and again to be extremely detrimental to our health: this is the very definition of insanity. It makes me wish people would just come out and say "You know what? I love steak and hamburgers so much that I really don't care if I end up on an operating table twenty years from now." That, at least, is honest.I'm not saying every disease is diet related, of course that's not the case; but we have way more control over our fates than we like to think we do. If you truly want to live a long and healthy life, then veganism is your road map. That way, when you're still going salsa dancing well into your nineties and people ask how you do it, you can tell them it isn't sheer dumb luck you've lived this long. You took good care of yourself, and now you're awfully glad you did.
More Kind Words
I'm delighted to share the second endorsement I've received for Bones & All:
"DeAngelis has invented a fiercely new form of human predator whose powers from birth tread the line between supernatural and realistic in a way readers have never seen. You'll be up all night turning the pages—fans of Dexter will be captivated by this sympathetic female killer who ups the ante in every imaginable way."
And, if you'll allow me a "mutual appreciation society" moment:
The cover is made of VELVET, people. I am so jealous.
As Easy as (Pizza) Pie
Last Friday I threw a vegan pizza party. (It turned out to be a party of three, but whatever, there was still an air of specialness about it—isn't that what makes a "party"?)
I picked up pizza dough (garlic and herb, so so good!), marinara, an eggplant, and shredded vegan "mozzarella" at Trader Joe's. Same deal as "regular" pizza: I sauteed the eggplant beforehand, kneaded out the dough, chopped up some fresh basil, and sprinkled everything on. (The summer after I went vegan, my dad made dough and sauce from scratch, using rosemary and thyme from his garden and Follow Your Heart "mozz." Daiya is also delicious.)
Nowadays vegan cheese melts just like "the real thing"—which might be an appealing quality for you during the transition away from dairy products. The taste isn't identical, but then, I wouldn't want it to be. Vegan cheese is tasty in its own right. (I like pizza without it too, piled high with roasted vegetables. For me, good pizza has always been about a crispy crust; everything else is optional.)I bought three bags of dough and made two big pizzas, but by the end of the evening there was only one slice left.
I'll be blogging about breaking the cheese addiction later this week. I'm really excited for this topic, since it was the biggest hurdle for me personally (or, rather, I'd thought it would be the biggest hurdle!)
The Epiphany That Came in Trickles
epiphany |iˈpifənē|nounA moment of sudden revelation or insight.
When I talk about going vegan with people who aren't, I generally sense an invisible wall going up between us. It's all very well and good for me, I can almost hear them thinking, but my way of life is not feasible for them.I am not a "hippie," nor was I raised in anything remotely resembling an alternative lifestyle. Growing up, my favorite meals were steak and baked beans on summer Sundays and my grandma Dorothy's meatloaf. I have very happy memories of stopping for Egg McMuffins at what felt like the crack of dawn en route to my grandparents' vacation house in the Poconos.So what changed? What chain of experience separates me as a vegan from you as a meat eater?When I was ten or eleven, I remember calling the toll-free number on the back of a Noxzema jar to ask if Proctor & Gamble tested on animals. (Of course they do; although according to their website they are "committed" to phasing it out. No timeline though.) I can't remember what initial "click" of insight possessed me to do this; my parents weren't pet people, so my firsthand experience of animals was relatively limited. All I know is that I wasn't ready to follow the thread of irrefutable logic that connects testing on animals with eating animals.In my teens, I often felt a vague unease whenever I ate meat or seafood. For some now-inexplicable reason, I cut out poultry but still ate a few steaks a year, and in high school and early college I often grabbed a tuna sandwich for lunch. I ate a lot of pasta and called myself a part-time vegetarian.The summer after my freshman year at NYU, I found a copy of Conversations with God on the bargain cart at the Strand. I'd scoffed at that book whenever I encountered it at my part-time job at Waldenbooks back in high school, but this time it practically leaped off the cart into my hands. (Funny how that happens, right?) I remember reading the following lines on the A train one afternoon:
A [highly evolved being], in fact, would never consume an animal, much less fill the ground, and the plants which the animal eats, with chemicals, then fill the animal itself with chemicals, and then consume it. A HEB would correctly assess such a practice to be suicidal.
Whether or not I actually believed these words came from "God," they produced a physical reaction. I didn't feel ill, I felt wonderful--what I've come to call a PING! moment. Since that epiphany on the A train, I have never felt a craving for the flesh of a land animal.Fishes, however, were still a semi-regular part of my diet. It seems like a lot of people go through this particular phase of cognitive dissonance; Colleen Patrick-Goudreau talks about being a pescatarian in her early 20s in a recent podcast on vegan dating. But as I wrote last week, I was doing the best I could at that time, and for most people this undoing of old patterns isn't going to happen overnight. I called myself a vegetarian but often ordered tuna sandwiches for lunch and the occasional salmon plate from my favorite Asian restaurant on Union Square (and yes, it does make me a little bit crazy now when I hear a pescatarian refer to themselves as a vegetarian, although I know I am not remotely justified in reacting that way). I publicly decried the vivisection going on in NYU research labs yet drank my hot chocolate with dairy milk. Looking back on all of it now, my epiphany seemed to be coming in trickles.It was the following summer, 2001, when I realized I needed to stop eating seafood. My dad was having a cook-out, and he'd gotten us tuna steaks. I can't remember whether or not I finished the meat on my plate, I just know that as I ate the little voice said, It makes no sense to eat this fish when you said you weren't going to eat meat.That day I became a proper vegetarian. And for the next ten years, I would occasionally pour factory-farmed milk on my Cheerios while believing I was doing "enough."As a vegan, it's been my experience so far that vegetarians often become much more defensive than meat-eaters do when we discuss veganism. I wasn't one of these defensive vegetarians, but only because I didn't know any vegans! Until I got to Sadhana Forest, aside from my brief interaction with Lauren from PETA, my only encounters with veganism were with two former vegans. I suspect both of them had been in it for the novelty value; but in fairness, we were all very young then.By the beginning of 2011, I was feeling uneasy whenever I consumed dairy products. I can't quite recall when or why I first got the idea to go to India; on the surface of things, I just wanted to travel and do a bit of volunteer work, but it seems perfectly clear to me now that I was supposed to go to Sadhana Forest. I was supposed to have that conversation with Jamey. On some deep level I was ready to change, and I was looking for a catalyst.As for Sadhana Forest, you already know about that particular breakthrough. And the really beautiful thing is this: my "vegan epiphany" wasn't the last. I keep having them, whether in yoga class or at my desk or reconnecting with the natural world; and each one is like the perfect inverse of a tiny earthquake inside of me, lining up the pieces instead of breaking them apart. That's been the greatest personal benefit, for me, of giving up animal products--I feel way more serene and spiritually attuned than I ever did before.