kindred spirits

I enjoyed a happy moment yesterday with the discovery of a kindred vegan spirit.

Chance threw us together. We were making friendly small talk. As time passed, we discovered more and more shared likes and experiences.

Finally, as the conversation somehow turned toward food, he quietly started a sentence, “ I’m a vegan, so…”

I stopped him right there. “Wait. You’re vegan?”

“Yes,” he replied with a tentative nod. He was probably bracing for the inevitable well-how-do-you-get-your-protein question.

Instead, what he heard was a very delighted, “So am I!”

With a look of happy surprise, up came the hands for a high five.

Gotta admit, despite the fact the vegan population is definitely on the rise, coming across vegans in the wild is a pretty rare experience for me. Wandering as a vegan through the heart of meat and potatoes country can be a rather lonely and sometimes alienating experience.

The alienation has its roots in the defensive posturing that some people feel compelled to launch once they discover you’re vegan. Sadly, it’s also the case that sometimes you fly quietly under the radar just to avoid to the predictable, tiring challenges that you are occasionally forced to gently work through with insecure, heels-dug-in meat-and-dairy eaters.

So when you chance upon a kindred soul, it’s a pretty cool thing.

Then, you can happily chat about fave dishes and books and apps and oh, just all the other doors this shared choice opens up. Because the choice to be vegan is not fundamentally about food. It is a very deliberate, practical choice toward exercising compassion. It is an ethical stance about animals, people, and planet.

All the healthy side effects of such a choice are icing on the cake, so to speak.

Online, I see that there are more and more folks on the vegan bandwagon all the time. In the stores, it is clear that corporations are working to tap into this growing market as more vegan processed options keep popping up. Restaurants, too, seem to have a budding awareness with more of them including a vegan, or at least vegetarian, option on their menus.

Estimates in the United States indicate that the vegan population might be roughly three percent. Who knows, though? I think some other countries are definitely ahead of us in this lifestyle.

The numbers are still scant. Working through those uncomfortable conversations is worth the effort when you have the energy for it, since you might touch another soul in a way that winds up mattering some day.

But when you actually discover a fellow traveler out there, there’s just a little moment of heart sparkle. You find both recognition and connection, and, even better, inspiration.

buddies

Always together.

Silly, goofy, playful.

The occasional tiff. Immediately forgotten.

Staunch advocates.

Shared concerns.

Curious. Rambunctious.

Excited about life

Or napping.

epic journeys

I stumbled upon a surprising and happy memory the other day.  Peggy’s Cove in Nova Scotia popped up in a post on Glenn and Lynn’s engaging Just A Bit Further blog.

I crossed paths with Peggy’s Cove many years ago while in the midst of an epic journey, double-handing a sailboat on a very long voyage. I wrote a little bit about it before here and here.

I carry many cherished images in my mind from that journey, Peggy’s Cove among them. Even more than the treasure trove of mental images, though, it’s the stories I love. In the end, it’s the elemental experience itself – the challenges and  unknowns I faced and weathered – that I prize.

That journey changed my life. It changed me.

There were so many life lessons and character forgings I could not quantify them.

That is what happens with epic journeys.

Not all epic journeys are lengthy ones. Sometimes it’s a few days or even a few hours. You know when you’ve been on one.

And every single time, you come out richer, wiser, closer to your own soul.

Earlier this year, I spent a couple of days hiking on the Pacific Crest Trail in California. I met some thru-hikers while I was there, and later I followed some of them via their vlogs. Talk about epic journeys!

It is amazing to see how these folks change and grow and adapt and meet challenges and face fear and injury and make friends as they hike those 2,650 miles.

A few years ago, I met a young man who set out to walk across the United States. His whole mission was to promote kindness – to oneself, to those we know, to strangers. Sharing a moment with him a little past his 1,000-mile mark in his solo trek made a surprising impact on me – a real-time glimpse into the power of his experience. By the way, he’s still on that mission, even though that particular journey’s over. Check out his website, Go Greater Good.

There’s travel, and then there’s epic journeys. Those are the ones that test you. The ones that demand you confront yourself. Learn your own amazing strength. Face your fears. See what really matters. Grow your resilience, fortitude, creativity, self confidence, determination, humility, compassion, capacity for joy.

They remind you that your own life is an epic journey.

I don’t think it’s about doing anything extreme or exotic, it’s mainly putting yourself in situations that call on you to respond with parts of yourself you may not know so well or that you resist.

Or maybe forgot.

the world we want

What would the world look like if it was actually built on compassion and cooperation, instead of greed and competition?

And why isn’t it?

Why are we all bound to a system that serves us so disproportionately, often runs counter to our values, and suppresses some of our best thinking and abilities? Why is so much suffering in this world tolerated, and somehow accepted as normal?

I believe that the human spirit is essentially good, positive, loving, compassionate, creative. How is it that the world runs on a model that is, ultimately, counter to the human spirit?

How we get by in this corporate-run world is a strategy of how and what we sell of ourselves, and how good we are at that, instead of how we creatively engage with our environment and community in a shared effort to survive and thrive.

We find whatever we can about ourselves that can be used as a commodity. The ways we sell ourselves are often at odds, too, with our actual capabilities and dreams and aptitudes.

We are often forced to settle for satisfying the compassionate, creative parts of us – the best parts of us – in side gigs or charities or hobbies or not at all. For others, those best parts are submerged under addiction, depression, crime, or poverty.

Everyone is forced to participate in this system orchestrated by greed. We are forced to fund the misery of wars and give the lives of people over to them for no good reason. Children are starved, tear gassed, warehoused with tax dollars we spent time earning eight to five. We dutifully, unthinkingly serve as corporate bottom lines while those corporations run roughshod over the earth – our earth.

It’s time for a new model.

It’s encouraging to see the gilets jaunes protests in France – An impending fuel hike may be the spark, but the bottom line is oppression – and they’re just not having it.

The Occupy movement here in the US also signaled discontent with a system that’s not working for so, so many.

Around the globe, it is clear there is unrest, dissatisfaction with the way the world is run right now.

It’s time to change how the world works. It’s time to fully become the amazing, compassionate, creative people we are – to finally claim ourselves for ourselves, together. We have to somehow work towards a new model.

I’m not sure I know exactly what the new model looks like, but it’s no reason to wait. We cannot afford it. We need to move toward the world we all want – one filled with good, creative people working together, not for profit dollars and soaring stocks, but towards the highest and best for us and the earth.

storm warnings

After our balmy weekend temperatures in the 40’s, the snow had all but disappeared.

Mother Nature has taken care of that overnight, laying a blanket of snow on everything. Still, as I peer out into the early morning darkness, it doesn’t quite amount to what I would call a full-blown winter storm – at least not right where I am.

I thought about that yesterday, when I started noticing all the warnings about the impending weather. I wondered if there would really be any snow at all in my neck of the woods. Experience has shown there’s a heckuva lot of hand-wringing hype when it comes to weather. 

Same thing used to happen when I was in Florida – all the ballyhoo around the developing storms out in the Atlantic and all their various possible tracks, and, oh my, what they might become and do.

All the fearful advance reporting treats weather as a mythic, angry god before whom we cower and fight.

Weather is certainly important, much to be respected, and requires response, but the type of hype to which we are subjected mainly works to maintain the stress, worry, and fear that is so characteristic of our society.

It’s not as if people for thousands of years did not manage without weather reports ad infinitum.

I’m guessing the ancients were better about weather than we are. They would have been much more tuned into Nature, and would have noticed subtle signs and changes, and respected them. They would have planned ahead for winter based on experience, and without benefit of plows or snow blowers.

And they weren’t exactly pillaging the planet, either.

Even with all of our technology and science and advance warnings, we still have power outages, blocked roads, closings, flight delays, and plenty of destruction whether it’s snow or hurricanes, floods or fires. In fact, there’s more and more of them all the time.

And despite the avalanche of advance warnings, we basically do nothing anyway to take the steps we can to, say, ease climate change.

Just in the last few days, the US government released its Fourth National Climate Assessment. Now, there’s a storm warning! Among its dire findings, it reached this rather understated conclusion:

While mitigation and adaptation efforts have expanded substantially in the last four years, they do not yet approach the scale considered necessary to avoid substantial damages to the economy, environment, and human health over the coming decades.

Hmm. Substantial damages. 

There is another approach. Maybe we could try trust and respect when it comes to earth and its atmosphere. Maybe we could be amazed by Nature, amazed by our interdependence – and try working with that. Maybe instead of wringing our hands, we could finally join hands with our planet. Maybe instead of hype, we could take heart.

And somehow weather the storm.

a different path

After some pretty frigid temps, there’s been a nice respite in the weather. It felt good to get out on the city park trails which wind along next to the river. Didn’t even wear a hat.

In the summer, the trails are pretty busy, but right now they’re basically deserted. It’s a little eerie.

Still, I was able to hear birds singing, and see them flitting among the brush. Spotted two squirrels practically cuddled up on a branch together. Ducks were cavorting in the river, splashing, and riding the current.

At one spot, the train tracks run across the trail. What do you know, a train came. I stood there close enough to feel the rumble under my feet.

As I crossed through the abandoned park expanse, I saw a man approaching. As he got nearer, I could see that he was carrying something in one hand, but kind of shielding it from view. It made me uncomfortable. As we passed, I looked back. I could clearly see that what he was carrying was a large wooden club.

I wondered if the city trails are more dangerous than I know. Or if this is just a man who is a little paranoid. Either way, I think carrying something like that actually does make the city trails more dangerous, and it serves to make one a little paranoid, too. Certainly bothered me.

That brief, uneventful encounter alters things. Regardless of my intentions, I realize I already feel less inclined to return to the trails for a run, despite the fact that I truly love the access to nature there. It makes me mad that on a perfectly pleasant day, people feel compelled to arm themselves to be out in it. 

I am sad for our loss of community, for the distrust and fear with which everyone lives now. It is time to find our way back – to find connection and purpose and joy in our shared experience on this earth instead of the manufactured violence and separation that greedy capitalism fuels.

I believe it is possible, too, but it takes vision, intention, and personal effort to move to recover true and functional community. It won’t come from the top. It takes each one of us to make it happen. It takes courage, too, at the very least, to choose a different path than the one we’re shown and herded along.

The birds and the squirrels and the ducks – they’re on to something. Beautiful, peaceful coexistence within nature. Why wouldn’t we?

lone vegan attempts to cook again

Even though I have a lot of interest in nutrition and eating healthy, I struggle to make myself cook. I’m fine with breakfast and lunch since I long ago established go-to meals that are easy and quick to make, without actually, ahem, involving much cooking.

Dinner is another story. By the time I get to dinner, I have exactly zero interest in preparing anything for myself. I am so disinterested in cooking for myself that sometimes I just skip the whole thing altogether or eat something that’s really not ultimately good for me just because it’s there and I don’t have to cook it.

This dinner thing has been bothering me. So I decided recently to make the effort to learn a few recipes for dinner meals that could be prepared and served for two or three dinners, or for entertaining.

Little did I know exactly how rusty my cooking skills had gotten!

My attempt this week was inspired by the vegan Neatloaf I enjoyed in San Diego at the delightful Jyoti-Bihanga restaurant. That neatloaf was awesome. With mashed potatoes and gravy, it’s the perfect winter comfort food, too.

I found a recipe on A Virtual Vegan’s website, including both the loaf and the gravy. Perfect!

The recipes aren’t too complicated, the ingredients are reasonable, and she gives detailed instructions and great photos.

It was my own lack of cooking habit that had to be confronted. I cooked for many years, and certainly had the tools and the expertise to put things together. Years of disuse, however, took their toll.

My first problem was pretty basic. I had gotten so bad about cooking that I never unpacked many of my cooking supplies when I moved into my current location. Hence, I had to root around in boxes looking for some elementary items like: a bowl and a loaf pan. I never did find either one, but I improvised. 

Then, there was the whole thing of actually, you know, preparing the dish. This is fundamental stuff. Chopping onions, garlic, mushrooms. Cooking lentils. Measuring spices, etc. (It took awhile, but I found my measuring spoons, yay!) We’re talking routine kitchen activities here; nevertheless, it was as if I was doing it all under water.

At any rate, I was not deterred. I actually did make the loaf, mashed potatoes, and gravy. The only thing I tweaked on the recipes was that, not having a blender around, I just used the chopped the onions and mushrooms for the gravy without blending – and actually, that is the way I would do it again.

Results? Awesome! It really turned out great. And it really is the perfect comfort meal for those wintry days.  The texture and moistness of the loaf are just right. And it really tastes yummy. If I tweaked anything, perhaps it would be just a little less thyme.  The recipe made enough loaf that it’s going to take me awhile to eat it up – which is exactly what I was hoping.

The gravy is the perfect addition, too. The flavor is there, along with the color and consistency that invites.

Thank you, A Virtual Vegan!

It was a worthwhile exercise, and I had fun doing it. I admit, though, I would never find myself doing this at the end of the day. So cooking ahead is the way to go.

So far, so good. Yum!

waking up, bit by bit

I always feel like people are waking up. I seem to see it and feel it around me more and more.

I read about folks living minimalist lifestyles, tiny houses, sustainability, simplicity.

People seem to be more conscious of inequality and injustice – and the roots of those issues.

Things like organic foods, recycling, and mindfulness are mainstream.

It makes me hopeful to sense this burgeoning awakening.

Then, what do you know, something like Black Friday comes along, and Cyber Monday. And we just hop on the bandwagon.

I don’t get it. The days of uber consumerism just seem passé to me now. Is that just me? Is this really the tradition we want to hand along to our kids?

And how many people are actually aware of Small Business Saturday? If there’s buying to be done, wouldn’t you rather help out a neighbor than Jeff Bezos?

Is it just my own illusion that people are waking up?

I see the strangest dichotomies all around me, all the time.

We all know the best gifts have no price, but we’re still driven to buy.

We all diligently recycle, but our recycling bins overflow.

We all become outraged for a time at the notion of children being taken from their parents, but tens of thousands of children dying of starvation remain in our periphery.

We dote lovingly on our cats and dogs while happily chowing down on a cow or a pig or turkey that was raised to be killed.

We have religions professing the belief that it is absolutely wrong to kill, but giving the nod while wars proceed apace.

We know exercise, nutrition, rest, community are the keys to good health, but we look to doctors and pharmacology for a fix instead.

We’re all about renewable energy, but there’s no meaningful effort to reduce overall consumption.

I don’t know. Some of this stuff just doesn’t seem that complicated. So why we keep participating, enthusiastically, is kind of mysterious. And disappointing.

Maybe that is just how change happens, though.  Two steps forward, one step back – that sort of thing.

Most often, it’s a simple matter of not doing. Doing by not doing.

Black Friday, in my mind, falls in that category.  Not doing. It’s one thing, anyway.

Bit by bit.

 

 

 

 

a gentle hug

So, Thanksgiving. I can tell because when I went to do my shopping, the store was positively throbbing with people and angst. Oh, and there were a lot of frozen turkeys.

As we launch the whole holiday season, I cannot help but think of those for whom this is a difficult time. Persons who have suffered loss or separation, or who experience poverty or strife, may find the season can bring additional pain.

I lived for a number of years emotionally struggling to get through the holidays. It was a very, very depressing season for me during those years. It was also a very lonely time.

Simply being an onlooker as all about you is the happy hustle and bustle, family gatherings and traditions, that are lost from your own experience can heighten sad and separate feelings. There’s no explaining it if you haven’t experienced it.

Well-meaning folks tried to draw me into their own family traditions, but that just somehow amplified my feelings of loss and separation. When I finally settled on following my own path, it worked a lot better for me.

The advice to start your own new traditions is fine – when you’re ready. The six weeks or so of the holidays do not have to be defined by what everyone else is doing or has always done, or what’s big in the stores or media. It is unfortunate that so much of the beautiful meaning in our holidays is sucked up by a focus on obligated consumption.

I ultimately found my own holiday path, and I’m finally in a good place with the season. 

I am writing this because I know there are others out there who suffer with the holidays for various reasons, and I am sad for that. I know how rough that can be.

It is part of the human experience to know sadness. We try hard to push sad feelings away, but sometimes, we just have to fully put our arms around the sadness and be with it before we can heal. And, eventually, we can see the path taking shape before us again.

There can be peace and happiness on the path. I know, and it is what I wish for you if you are one of those struggling right now.

Please consider yourself gently hugged.

slow motion

Wasn’t feeling the greatest this weekend, so my runs ended up being walks. Yesterday, in an effort to feel better, I tried mixing it up by walking more in the business area of town, but it kind of backfired on me.

The businesses, mostly closed, looked sort of dreary to me. Even the Christmas decorations looked depressing. I ended up just feeling cold and kind of unhappy. I dejectedly gave up and headed back home.

This was a complete surprise to me because, normally, getting myself in motion improves everything in my world. I couldn’t quite believe it.

As I got near home, I decided to give it one more shot by doing one of my routine routes – a route where I know every tree and bump in the road.

That did the trick. I was into it for just a few minutes when everything started clicking again. Yay!

I ended up feeling a lot better, both physically and mentally. My spirits perked up and I felt a little energized for the first time all weekend.

I think perhaps that the key was feeling a little more connected to nature. The more urban environment I tried at the start just didn’t speak to me like the trees on my regular route.  

I had a heck of a time making myself get outside at all in the first place. Feeling fatigued and just a little under the weather were great excuses to stay inside and lounge around. Nevertheless, experience has shown, time and time again, that getting in motion just plain makes me feel better – and it’s good for the soul, too.