The Spiritual Vegan

As a holistic health counselor, I cannot condone the practice of veganism. But as a spiritual person, I have no problem with this way of eating. In case any of my readers has been living under a rock, vegans do not eat any animal foods at all. Plant foods only. In the US, this practice has been strongly influenced by the spread of yoga and the teachings of the ancient Indian philosopher Patañjali. The relevant teaching is that of ahimsa, which effectively means to do no harm. Since Patañjali was an austerity practitioner, he advocated eating no meat. Fine interpretation of Patañjali ‘s intent is well outside my area of expertise, but I do know the human species has a long history of this sort of practice.

Both Patañjali and Plato believed that fasting, austerity, resisting sexuality and other pleasures of the body would lead to knowledge that would release one from reincarnation. Both say that animate beings are composed of a body and soul that are distinct entities. This is an un-natural union and results in desire. Desire attracts matter, which drags the soul down and into a series of incarnations. Soul, when separate from body, is pure and perfect. Plato says when the body dies, the soul is still dragged down by matter and cannot escape. The way out is detachment from passionate response, and the cessation of both pleasure and pain as they are known in the body. One should be celibate, and not eat meat.

To enter the next life on better terms, a Holy Death is recommended this can be done by self-starvation, or by ‘entering fire.’ There are many such incidents recorded in Indian history, but such also exists in the Greek Record. Socrates took poison, and Empedocles was reported to have jumped in a volcano – although this is unsubstantiated.

The Jains hold that their religion goes back further than the Vedas and perhaps as far as the Indus Valley Cultures. There is good evidence for Orphic thought in the texts of the 5th century B.C. and the Jains loved to send out ‘missionaries.’ They tended to follow lines of trade, and they had a period of training that had to be carried out in a foreign culture.

In the context of Paganism (and other spiritual paths as well), becoming vegan is one answer to the ethical dilemma of the sacredness of the world, and one’s kinship to all life. And even a little knowledge of the horror that is factory farming is enough to make the average person want to avoid meat for at least a while. When I was writing my thesis, I read many studies about the health of these animals and I was nauseous about their treatment. This most certainly ran counter to my ethics. The way we produce food is the outcome of our desire for convenience and our resulting inattention. There is a spiritual disconnect between how we nourish our bodies and our souls. If we care about the well-being of all life, then mindlessly eating meat from animals raised in factory farms is spiritual necrosis.

But in terms of nutrition, veganism has huge failings. The article linked here is only one of many. Vegans have an almost legendary reputation for nastiness to those who contradict the idea that being vegan is the most healthy way to live. But the health benefits of a vegan diet are limited to cleansing the system from having spent years eating badly, and there are no traditional cultures that maintained an all plant diet. While I have often heard the contention that we have “evolved beyond needing to eat meat,” the three generations that have passed since the first vegan cookbook was published is inadequate for such evolution. Some people can last on an all-plant diet for longer than others. It depends on how efficiently one’s body recycles vitamin B12, whether or not one has a high conversion ratio for beta-carotene to vitamin A, and if the vegan in question is consuming saturated fats necessary for assimilation of fat-soluble vitamins. But the majority of humanity needs quality animal products to maintain health. Even Ghandi was unable to give up milk, to his great disappointment.

It is noble to sacrifice one’s health to protest factory farming. Perhaps if we were more accepting of variations in human spiritual practice, vegans could just call a spade a spade without having to get into an argument.

The Stories We Tell

The great religions all have powerful spiritual practices. Practices which are designed to lead the postulant through a series of revelations and self-exploration, and which bring the experience of Unity or spiritual ecstasy. A teacher or spiritual director is available to coach, comfort and answer questions. The inner journey can and should take one to explore the darker reaches of the soul, and this is not a kind or gentle process. Guidance and perspective are essential least the seeker loose their way in the gloom.

While unquestionably valid in their approach, most of these practices were developed in a far different context than our modern, and sometimes frighteningly secular world.
The idea that deity could manifest in pop culture came to me one evening while I was watching the Power of Myth, with Joseph Campbell and Bill Moyers. Power of Myth was a television series based on the life work of Joseph Campbell. This man had studied mythology from cultures all over the world, and was deeply respected. He was delightful to watch because he was so filled with the joy of living. His motto was “Follow your bliss”, meaning find what brings you the most happiness, and do it whole-heartedly.

Much of his work made use of Jung’s theory of archetypes. Carl Jung theorized that when a story is told over and over in different forms, that it becomes a symbol in the group mind of humanity. The Hero’s Journey is a good example. We all know stories about a hero who had to go through many trials in order to reach a goal.

Joseph Campbell compared stories. He found that many cultures had similar stories even thought they had had no contact with each other. For example, many cultures have a myth about a great flood, and many cultures also have a myth about creation in which the creator made the first two humans. Individuals who show up in many stories are The Fool, The Lovers, The Mother and The Father. These are archetypes. Archetypes show us how to be good people, how to fit into our communities and how to discover our unique contribution.

What got my attention in Campbell and Moyers’ conversation was that Campbell was concerned that because there had been so many changes in the last fifty years, that we were loosing our archetypes. Things were suddenly so different, that our archetypal stories could no longer guide us and there was nothing filling the gap. The trouble with the older archetypes was that it is difficult to apply the lessons they offer to our modern world. They certainly had corrupt governments, but they did not have corporations, computers, cell phones, video games, genetically modified foods, cars, etc.

My gut reaction to Campbell was disagreement. We still have stories being told in the form of movies, something in which Campbell himself agreed. He influenced and supported George Lucas in the creating of the early Star Wars films. But this is not the only example. Paganism most certainly generates and/or claims stories that change how we live. For example, both Wicca and Feminist Goddess practices are based on stories of how the religion started and how the world once was that have little or no basis in historical fact. But these stories have served to inform people’s actions in a positive way.

This sort of revelation has been a cause for much anger in the Pagan community, but that is only because, by cultural habit, we have become hung up on facts. We treat them as if they were Truth. Discordians have no such problem. Their truth is that playing with the narrative – whatever that is – is fun, and powerful, and just as true as any other approach to living. Although I am not a Discordian, I love this approach. Nor did facts deter the Church of All Worlds from blossoming out of a work of fiction. For those that need to believe that their tradition is based on ancient practices, and who Poo-poo such silliness, I would remind them that everything starts somewhere. A good story gets told over and over. Perhaps what is missing now is not the myth, but the ritual.

Rituals tell stories. And if they do not tell them well, then they don’t work. I believe in story-telling. The ancient Israelites defined themselves as a people by the stories they told and the rituals they enacted about those stories. In our world, the media tries to define the narrative of what is happening in the political and social field. But what stories do we tell about ourselves? More often than not, we are letting others define who we are. I prefer to tell my own stories.

How can we integrate scientific knowledge in to our lives in a way that supports our growth as a species?

How does a piece of art express the ideals of what it is to be human?

How does even popular culture express our innate (although suppressed) connection with the All?

7 Billion

Recently the human population passed the 7 billion mark. When I was in high school I took a class with the alarming title of World Problems. The primary learning tool was a branching diagram we would create as a class – largely via brainstorming and our imaginations – that displayed in graphic detail the causes and consequences of various issues that faced humanity. Population was one of the highlighted issues, and the diagrams were head-splittingly complicated and depressing. I could feel the pressure of 4 million people pressing on my soul and sucking up the planet’s resources.

I have heard it expressed from both the left and the right that some sort of population collapse event is inevitable. The tone of some of these interactions makes it clear that the speaker thinks that would be a good thing. The speaker, of course, always assumes on some level that they themselves and those they care for will not die in the plague, civil disorder or asteroid strike that must be coming soon. For some reason, volcanic eruptions are not in the running. Nor is the collapse of the industrial food production system. I find this attitude completely understandable, but troublesome on a spiritual level. In what way is it appropriate to secretly – or not so secretly – wish for the death of billions of people?

I think we feel this way in part because we cannot imagine how all those people will be fed, and what kind of world we will have in the process. Scary as it is, I believe there is hope for us. This is not just blind faith in the goodness of the Universe. In the course of learning about sustainable food systems, I have come across some remarkable pieces of information.

The first is that mixed use, biodynamic farms produce more food per acre than conventional farms. A lot more. And not just more food, but food that is more nutritious, better for the environment, and humane. When animal inputs are mixed with gardens, the soil fertility increases and plants grow bigger and healthier. Nitrogen inputs become unnecessary, and healthier plants are less susceptable to insects and diseases. And livestock gets to live they way they evolved to; strolling around pastures, eating grass.

Second, with the application of swale agriculture, it is possible to grow crops in drylands where farming is difficult and the soil tends to get contaminated with salt. The short film Greening the Desert Geoff Lawson goes to the middle east and finds a salt contaminated piece of land in the desert and grows food there, even decontaminating the soil, something generally considered to be impossible without massive flushing with fresh water. The Permaculture techniques demonstrated in this video are not a matter of great expense, but of human creativity, observation, and understanding.

Third, while only a small percentage of land on the planet is suitable for farming via conventional methods, there are vast tracks of grassland that could support rotational grazers. Such grazing increases the health of both the land and the animals on it. Well-managed grasslands sequester more carbon than forests, reduce or eliminate erosion, hold more water that conventionally farmed fields, and reduce fire danger. All of these things add up to a better life for the entire planet and her residents.

7 billion people does mean a greater demand of resources, but it also means a greater pool of creativity and ingenuity. In high school I could not have imagined feeling hopeful about the future of humanity’s nearly 5 billion people. But now, at 7 billion, I find myself optimistic.

There Are No Bunnies! (but there are unicorns)

Recently on Facebook (doesn’t everything begin on FB?) I got into a discussion with a friend about subtle racism and re-framing. Her last word on the subject (it was, after all, her post, not mine) was that she believed that denying one’s emotions was unhealthy, a statement with which I have no argument whatsoever. I do however make a distinction between denying one’s emotions and controlling or redirecting them.

Pretending that one is not angry when one most emphatically is (insert tooth grinding here), or going on after the death of a loved one as if nothing had changed, is a recipe for immune system disruption and cognitive dissonance. Emotions are what keeps us alive. Lacking emotion, we have no desire, no motivation. Survival? Who cares? Why bother? Some spiritual paths would have us remove desire so that we can transcend this painful corporeal world and move on. They can go ahead and do that. It leaves more room for those of us that like it here.

But when emotions become consistently unpleasant, we have it within our power to change that. My own experience speaks to this. As much as I am annoyed by the sunshiny, unicorns and rainbows goodness of New Age philosophy, twenty years ago, it was all I had. The promise of feeling something other than sadness, anger and anxiety was one of the things that kept me going. Admittedly, positive affirmations are sort of like using a small rock hammer to break out of prison (and thank you Steven King for that very uplifting metaphor). But the bottom line was that fighting my negative emotions with a little rock hammer was better than letting them run away with me. At the very least I had some sense of control. The only reason I never attempted suicide was that I was very clear that leaving was a form of cheating, and I would just have to come back and do it all over again.

But eventually that little rock hammer started to make an actual dent. Supporting that, being Pagan meant that the things that made me feel good were actually not just ok, but sacred. Over the years, I have become quite good at recognizing both emotions, and the negative brain states that can either accompany or drive them. And I’ve added other, more sophisticated tools to that rock hammer. For years I have been learning about how what I eat affects how I think and feel. But recently, I have been looking again at how I manage my thought processes, and have discovered that positive thinking is supported by science. The new understanding of how the brain functions can give us choices about who we want to be.

Chronically disorganized? There’s an app for that. Think you are unlucky? Yup, there’s one for that too. There is a wide array of studies on both brain function and human behavior that show that what you pay attention to is like digging a canal. The more you focus on it, the easier it becomes. Since the rest of the body works this way, why not the brain? Lifting weights is hard at first, but as the muscles grow stronger, you can lift more. Bones get more dense when they experience compression. So The Secret is supported on the physical side by science. The down side of this type of functionality is that if one focuses on the negative, then that too gets dug into one’s consciousness.

It seems the brain can only do one thing at a time well. Apparently, multitasking drops you down to the level of an eight-year-old. (Nothing against kids here, but they can’t pay the rent.) Taking time each day to focus on, and think about what makes us feel good improves our well-being and our overall performance in life. People who do this are not only happier, they are more successful, and the people that they manage are also more productive and successful.

So when someone does something that raises my ire I have a choice. I can be angry or I can focus my attention on something else. It may even be that whatever that person did needs to be corrected or addressed, but I don’t need to be angry in order to do that. Corrections that come from a place of anger make messes that I don’t like cleaning up. We control our emotions every time we have to take a deep breath before we talk, and whenever we choose to put off a decision until our heads are clear. There is nothing unhealthy about that.

For more on the current science on brain function, productivity, and human happiness:
The Happiness Advantage by Shawn Achor
Your Brain at Work by David Rock

Pagan Kosher: Eat What Your Ancestors Ate

As I write this, Samhain has just passed. I think about my maternal grandfather who left his family in Boston because he was tired of being beaten over a badly recited catechism. He fled north to Maine where he must have helped one of the locals work the fields in exchange for room and board. He was listed on the 1910 census and then dropped off the radar for a while as he traveled around the country doing whatever job came his way. He did stone masonry and lumbering, and worked the railroads, and eventually made it back to Maine where he married my “Old Maid” grandmother. I never knew him, and barely knew her before she developed dementia.

Connecting with them is a challenge. Grandpa is a bit easier because mom was close to him and I have more stories. I like to do things with stone and wood as he did, and I often feel him near me when I am building rough stone walls or doing carpentry. Grandma is tougher. Mom found her critical and doesn’t talk about her much. But I know she cooked. And I know she canned food because some of the jars are still in the basement, 50 years later.

They ate what was available to them on the farm. They had a kitchen garden, which my mother revived as soon as she retired to the house. They had a dairy cow and raised a pig every year. There were numerous apple trees on the property. I still come across them in the woods, often with an apple or two high in the branches and deer tracks around their base. Only one still gets attention. The tree that grows in a small gap in the stone wall bordering the garden produces huge yellow apples that are tart and sweet, and perfect for baking or sauce. They don’t keep, but harvested in early September they made a fine apple sauce and pies. We don’t always have a good year for those apples, but when we do, I am in nervous tizzy figuring out if I can make it up to Maine at the right time to pick them. I them frantically make and can apple sauce as my grandmother must have done. I make mead with them too although I’m pretty sure my grandparents didn’t do that.

Eating what our ancestors ate connects us to them viscerally. It is a connection of the gut, of necessity. When I move stones, I know this is what my grandfather felt with his hands, his spine. When I eat applesauce, I know my grandmother’s relief and gratitude at being able to serve my family something tasty and nourishing. When I burn my fingers on the hot jars, I know her frustration and fatigue.

Ancestral foods are those of place, digestibility, and maximum nourishment over the long haul. Pemmican was such a superior food that native American hunters could go weeks eating that alone while still pursuing game. Traditionally fermented, raw sauerkraut has more vitamin C than the cabbage picked fresh from the ground, with a bonus of gut enhancing, immune boosting friendly bacteria. Raw milk from cows on fresh grass provides the same friendly bacteria, plus a dose of calcium, vitamin D, and other beneficial factors, all in a great tasting beverage.

All the ancient cultures had some form of fermented food, and ways to store food that enhanced its nutrient content. These traditional foods are why we, ourselves exist. Without these foods, fertility and health decline and we would not have been born. Indeed, fertility in industrialized nations has been declining. Reproduction becomes limited because the body lacks the tools to build new cells. Health fades as the healing systems of the body fail to keep up with demands.

Our Pagan traditions have deep roots and all those peoples had their own food preferences, some of which we moderns would find deeply unpleasant, if not disturbing. Watching a few episodes of Anthony Bourdain or Andrew Zimmern can give both the highs and the lows of eating as our ancestors did. And while Icelanders still eat fermented shark, they do it mostly to remember why they are grateful that they don’t have to.

Eating what our ancestors ate can bring both memories of joy and pain. A locally grown potato is delicious and full of vitamin C, and I cannot eat it without remembering that my great-grand parents came here from Ireland because they did not want their family to starve. That potato connects me with history. Food is power. As we say in my tradition:

The share food is to share life
To share life is to share joy and sorrow
Joy shared is multiplied, sorrow shared is lessened

To share delicious food is to experience community, with our ancestors, with our embodied friends and family, and with generations yet to be. To share not-so-tasty food is to share communion, and ease the pain of generations.

Food is Political Keystone

I find that I know people whom I don’t like much when it comes to politics. This is not because I don’t agree with their political views on a given subject. I am a socially liberal environmentalist, who owns guns, and has no faith in the ability of the federal government to regulate the details of our lives. I end up arguing with folks on both sides of the aisle. What makes me angry is when that discourse turns into rancorous displays of righteousness. When people get to this point, all communication stops and any chance of solving the problem – whatever it is – swirls down the drain. If we as a country have the idea that ‘those other people’ are stupid or, immoral, or nasty, how can we be surprised when Congress can’t get its proverbial head out of the you-know-what? I prefer to focus on something that unites us all. Food.

Everyone has to eat, and what we eat affect our health, our environment, our relationships, our economic system, and our energy needs. Both sides of the political spectrum have skin in this game. Foodies, survivalists, gardeners, and nutritionists can agree that having access to local, quality food is desirable. All of these people want tasty stuff to eat. That kind of food comes from artisanal producers. Producers that are regularly hassled by government inspectors and choked by expensive, pointless, and unnecessary regulations. Environmentalists want fewer toxins being dumped into waterways and a much lower use of fuel. The sustainable food movement addresses the desires of all of these people.

How we produce food is the greatest change we can make in affecting the planet and our humanity. From pasture or field to table, the difference between food produced biodynamically and food produced with industrial farming methods is a gulf bigger than the Grand Canyon. One third of the oil use in this country goes to industrial agriculture. If I grow my own vegetables and some fruits and preserve them in a traditional manner with lacto-fermentation, drying, root-cellaring, I’ve saved the fuel needed for fertilizer and machinery and refrigeration, and skipped the herbicides. I’ve also made a substantial step towards food security.

If I purchase part of a cow, or a lamb or pig, from a local farmer who has fed that animal on grass, I have saved the fuel used for running manure pumps on a CAFO, not contributed to the manure that goes into waterways from manure pools, and contributed to the production of healthy soil. If I smoke that meat, I can also reduce the cost of food storage. Buying right from the farmer produces relationships, builds community, and supports small and local businesses.

The plight of small farmers is also an issue that crosses political boundaries. Corporations do everything they can to eliminate the small fry that are their competition, and Democrats are highly focused on the evils of corporate influence. That influence extends well into the federal government, creating more bureaucracy and government controls, something that Republicans revile.

Finding common ground is the only way to move forward in any conflict.

Pagan Kosher: Pastured Meat

One of the most important beliefs that Pagans hold is that life is cyclical. We are born, we live, we die, and are re-born. Death is not escapable. No one gets out of here alive. Mortality is part of existence, but all things return. Relationship is another aspect that defines Pagan attitudes. For Pagans, deity is immanent in the world. Every rock, every tree, everything that moves and breathes is sacred. Including what we eat. It is very common for Pagans to feel a deep kinship with both animals and plants. This creates an ethical dilemma that conflicts with the natural cycles of life and death, and is not easy to solve. How does one eat one’s brother? Industrial farming is repugnant to anyone who takes the time to look. But even more so to a Pagan who claims kinship to all living things.

Veganism – the practice of eating no animal products at all – has been one solution to the relationship problem, although, as with the general population, vegetarianism – not eating animal flesh, but consuming dairy and eggs – is more common. For physiological reasons, veganism is extremely difficult to maintain, and generally requires far more asceticism than is generally acceptable in Paganism. Vegan Pagans don’t get much sympathy in a religion where enjoying one’s food can include exclaiming over bacon and groaning over a chocolate confection. Although most Pagans still eat a standard American diet, vegetarianism is common. I have yet to go to a Pagan event that did not have some sort of vegetarian option for food.

Another aspect that defines Paganism is the sacred earth. Modern Paganism was deeply influenced by the environmental movement, and as a religion based on the seasonal cycles of nature, we honor the health of the planet. Sadly, modern methods of meat production are bad for every living being directly involved with, or anywhere near the process. A great deal has been written about these issues and it is not my intent to re-cap them here. Nor is it my intent to convince anyone to be a vegetarian. Our ancestors ate meat, and every culture seeks access to more if they do not have a ready supply. This is not a failing, it is part of being human.

Cattle, pigs, and chickens did not evolve in sheds, jammed one on top of the other. Cattle did not evolve eating grain but grass, and chickens are omnivorous. When these animals and other ruminants are fed on grass instead of being placed in CAFOs (confined animal feeding operations), they are more healthy, and happy. But this is not the only benefit.

It is possible for farming, when done in a way that mimics the cycles of nature, to heal and restore degraded grasslands, green up areas that have fallen to desertification, and balance overgrown forests, and tie up carbon. The thick layer of soil on the American prairies at the turn of the century was the result of patterns of movement by the bison. They gathered tightly together to protect against wolf predation. They left piles of manure and trampled ground behind them. A day or two later the birds came in and picked the larvae out of the muck and scattered the manure. The grass shed some root – which broke down into loam – and then re-grew, thicker than before. This pattern can be mimicked, which is the concept of biodynamic farming or permaculture. Not an ancient concept, but a new one that demands considerable conscious attention to the land. This is a vision of cattle, chickens, pigs and other domestic herd animals being raised and cared for with respect on small farms, and in a way that allows them to express their essential being: Ruminants eating grass, chickens eating bugs, pigs rooting in forest-lands. This supports the health of the planet, of food animals, of forests and grasslands, and last but not least, humans.

And yes, I advocate eating them. If humans did not eat them, they would, like kudzu, over-run the planet. Largely because they threw in their lot with humans, domesticated animals are terrifically successful, and they are not going to control their breeding if we stop eating them. Humans are population control for cows and chickens, as wolves are for elk and other deer. Culling is not just a part of nature that we in the industrialized world can ignore, it is inherent to it. All things eat, from humans to wolves to chickens to microbes to fungi. And in the end, we too will be consumed. To honor and acknowledge that which dies in order to nourish us, acknowledges the cycle of life and death in its entirety.

Our spiritual ancestors lived close to the land. They farmed, they hunted. They raised cattle and pigs and chickens and these too thrived (at least when there were not drought conditions) from what the earth grew. Manure and kitchen waste was returned to the soil because the plants grew better when nutrients were returned to it. This is the cycle of birth, life, death and renewal that we celebrate.