By Bread Alone

Summer always makes me think more about food than any other time of the year.  What with the bounty of produce at the local markets, and gardens bursting at the seams even here in the city, it's hard not to give at least a passing thought to what we eat and why.  There have been so many books on this subject in recent years that it feels a little redundant to talk about the social and ecological impact of food yet again.  But, I have been thinking about food in relationship to my animals, and the animals that form an integral part of our planet's food chain, from humans, to the humble honey bee on who's tiny (albeit multiple!) shoulders rests the health of much of our food ecosystem.

As humans, we omnivores truly do have a dilemma - to eat what is affordable, readily available, and, let's face it, easy, or to be thoughtful about what we choose to consume and how it affects the world around it.  And it does have an effect.  Factory farming, for one, is changing both the landscape, the land itself, and the livelihood of millions of farming Americans.  And yet, it seems at times like the only solution for providing cheap, plentiful food for an ever-growing population.  The meat industry has long been at the center of the battle over acceptable farming and slaughter practices, and I'd wager a guess that if a person thinks about food at all, it is "the meat issue" that is usually the first stop on the road to food consciousness.

As an animal communicator, I'm often asked whether I eat meat, and the answer is "yes".  I have a body that feels better with the grounding effects of at least occasionally consuming muscle-based proteins.  I know this from forays into the world of the non-meat-eating - I'm not one to make a decision without observing all sides!  I also eat meat because it is in my nature, as a human and an omnivore, to do so, and I am at peace with that choice.  That, to some, will be heresy, I know.  I can hear my vegetarian and vegan friends saying "but, it is your job as a human to care for the animals and not eat them!"  And yes, I hear you, I really do, and I honor that impulse - after all, animals are a core focus of my life!  But, one of the joys of working intimately with animals is that you get to ask them about these things, and learn their truths.  What I have learned from the animals is that we are all part of a delicate order, and what is required of us is respect for our place in that order.  Just as in the animal world, there is a hierarchy of species, and we provide for each other within that hierachy.  Am I saddened when I see a cat kill a rabbit, or a coyote have a deer for dinner?  Absolutely - it is painful to see a beautiful life extinguished.  But, I know that the cat can no more survive on grass than the coyote can.  And, this is what the animals express.  They recognize this order, they recognize that we all have a part to play in it. 

"But wait", you might say, "you have a choice!  The coyote does not, and neither does the cow on the farm that becomes your steak!".  True.  I do have a choice, and while that cow does not have a choice in being a cow, and being in the cow's place in the hierarchy of the species, we as humans have a choice in how we honor that cow in life and in death.  I do have a choice, and so my choice is to try to honor the life that is given so that I might be sustained.  In nature, each animal takes only what it needs, consumes only what is required to survive.  Animals are not wasteful, and they are not cruel.  They do not keep their prey living in unsanitary and insanity-inducing conditions, they do not slaughter in-humanely, they do not treat the resulting meat with all the dignity of rat poison.  If we are to eat meat, if, in fact, we are to survive on this planet whether we are vegetarian or carnivore, then we must remember to honor the essence of life in our food, and to work together to sustain food sources that bring more life to all of us, and less to none. 

For me, the choice has been to try, when I can possibly afford it, to select foods from known sources, to choose meats from animals that I know were given a good life, and killed humanely, and to choose vegetables from small farms where pesticides are minimally used and I know I am supporting a farm family's way of life.  And, no matter what I've chosen to eat, I give thanks.  Even that small act has a huge impact.  When you sit down to your steak or fish or chicken, your corn or lettuce or beans, give thanks for the animal that is sustaining you - whether it be the cow or the honeybee.  These small acts of gratitude create the butterfly effect in Universal terms.  When one is grateful for the life of another, we honor the hierarchy of all Life. 

Each person has to choose the path that is best for them.  I offer these thoughts only for those who have asked, and are struggling with making the "right choice" for themselves.  And, regardless of your food choices, do try to support your local farm markets, local farmers, and humane producers.  Someday, we can hope, that these options are more affordable for all of us.  In the meantime, choose wisely, as best you can, and give thanks. 

I Choose You

The kitties turn 1 this week, and so it seemed like a fitting time to tell the story of their appearance in our lives.  It's a good story, because it so well illustrates two truths. 1) that there is very often a plan larger than that which we see so narrowly in front of us, and 2) very often, what we think we need and what we actually need are two very different things.

Last spring, my boyfriend's family dog, Max, was very ill and it was clear that he would not be with us much longer.  He had been the baby of the family for his short 7 years, and a good, dear friend, and everyone was understandably devastated.  One day, a small tortoise shell cat appeared in the yard, and seemed intent on hanging around. She was extremely friendly, jumping on laps, purring up a storm, and even going right up to the back door and staring in at Max, who seemed a bit puzzled, but not in the least upset by this new visitor.

Over the next few weeks it became clear that the cat, now dubbed "Mrs. Pickles" after the fine cat of a little boy we know, was not planning on going anywhere.  Max ended his struggled and passed on to the next world.  Everyone was in deep mourning, except Mrs. Pickles, who seemed perfectly aware that she had arrived at a house that needed some bucking up.  In the weeks following Max's passing, boyfriend's father (henceforth, Mr. K), became increasingly fond of the intrepid little feline, and in addition to feeding her, spent a great deal of time visiting with her outside.  Mrs. K was less convinced.  Not a fan of cats to begin with, she wasn't too pleased with one hanging around the house, and particularly not so soon after Max had gone.  One day while she was out, Mr. K wondered what might happen if he just let Mrs. Pickles into the house for a few minutes, and so, he did.  In she came, and took a thorough tour of the premises, looking under furniture and testing out the beds.  She wandered back out some time later and that was that.  Until a few days later, that is, when she was at the door and seemed to want to come in again.  This time, both K's were home, and she came in and promptly retreated to the master bedroom, where, without further ado, she began the business of bringing her five kittens into the world.  Much to everyone's surprise, Mrs. Pickle's somewhat stouter appearance of late had less to do with the introduction of kibble into her life, than it did the introduction of five babies to her belly.

Following a period of much chaos, and not a few threats of divorce, five kittens and one Mrs. Pickles took up residence in a fine box in the carport.  Many months later, two of them came to live with us, and that is the story of Squeak and Boone.  In the larger sense though, it is a story of an animal choosing the right time, right place, right family, and not without a little bit of what can only be Divine intervention.  Mrs. Pickles was a stray - where she wandered off from, or whether she was abandoned, we don't know, and I have not asked.  She clearly knew people, because she was never shy or fearful around us, but she even more clearly knew that this was a house that needed her - even if they didn't know it yet.  She and her kittens gave everyone a reason to keep loving, even when it was hard to think of anything but the much loved dog who was gone.  And, in perhaps an even greater miracle, attesting to the power of cuteness possessed by babies of all species, those kittens even won over Mrs. K, who couldn't be without them now.  Squeak and Boone's brothers and sister continue to live with the K's, and Mrs. Pickles is now happily living with a veterinarian nearby.

Sometimes, it appears we are doing a kindness for another being, but in the end, they are really doing the kindness for us.  And, even those things that seem unpromising at first glance, can sometimes be the very thing we need.  Thank you for these lessons Mrs. Pickles, and thank you for Squeak and Boone and their siblings.  Happy birthday kitties!!

Barking Up The Right Tree

If you had some form of religious education as a kid, you no doubt know the story of the Garden of Eden, since it's compelling visuals are a favorite among Bible stories taught to children.  In the garden were two trees, the Tree of Knowledge, and the Tree of Life.  When I had the pleasure of working with an aging rescue dog awhile back, he conveyed an image of the frustration of barking up the wrong tree (he had apparently been trying to rid his human friend’s yard of squirrels for some time and was growing weary of the battle!).  The Tree of Knowledge offers us the ability to see all, to being in charge of our own destiny, to be creators.  However, the life it offers is also limited, and it comes with the experience of all that is life’s opposite - death, sadness, pain, and limitations.  Science tells us nature abhors a vacuum, and on this tree, as we create good and wonderful things in our life, we also create a vacuum into which the shadow side of this tree must come.  What that old dog had to share about his frustrations with the wily squirrels was a good reminder about a larger life lesson – be careful which tree you’re attending to.

When a squirrel disappears up a tree, or a mouse into a hole, our animals do what logic demands.  They sit and wait with infinite patience at the spot where their quarry was last seen.  How often do we also wait and wait, or push and push, or try and try, for something that we want desperately, even when all signs point to its already having left the building?  I know I’ve spent my share of hours waiting for Elvis to reappear.  Unbeknownst to us, our quarry may have slipped out the back while we stewed out front.  In this scenario, it’s all about being guided by logic – “I think and see, therefore, this must be so”.  We do not have the perspective to see beyond the spot where our last known encounter with our subject existed.

The Tree of Life, however, is an entirely different animal.  When we are barking at this Tree, we don’t have to care that reality seems to suggest that our goal has disappeared, we will always be guided to the right place to be at the right time so that we can see where it went, or if perhaps there is another, better quarry for us.  On this tree, there is no separation from that which we desire, and no limit to our ability to see it.  It’s like having a direct phone line to the Creator, who is giving you step by step instructions to lead you to your goal “ok, move to the second oak on your left and wait at the north side, the squirrel is coming down the trunk in 2 minutes”. 

What this old dog was telling me is that even my greatest efforts are blind.  The illusion is that I know it all – I know exactly what I want and how to get it- but the reality is that my vision is limited to what I can see directly in front of me.  The miracles given to us at this time of year are many – the rebirth of the planet in spring, the Israelites’ escape from both slavery in Egypt and the Angel of Death through Passover, Christ’s death and resurrection freeing us from our prison of self-slavery.  We are shown that even what appears to be final - and death is the ultimate final for most of us - is only an illusion when we allow the Creator to assist us.  And if we can accept that something that big and scary could be only an illusion, then surely we might be able to get some help finding that darn squirrel…

Spring

The birds are back and the cats are going crazy tracking their every move outside our windows.  Must be spring!  There is something so amazing about seeing trees and gardens that have looked beyond dead for months suddenly burst into bloom.  What an amazing miracle!  And how amazing that the trees and plants are working on this top secret operation all winter, completely under our radar and with no external hint of things to come.

Of course the extra time spent outside lately, still shivering slightly, but determined to embrace the whiff of spring in the air, has induced pondering.   hmmmm...   It seems to me we are a lot like these trees, or even, dare I say, the barren little gardens.  Often what others see on the outside has zero to do with what is going on inside.  What we project to the world is just our outer mirror - reflecting back to others what they choose to see based on their own experience.  Problem is, sometimes this can make us feel pretty sad and disillusioned, because we are used to making the assumption that others see us clearly, and therefore, what they see must be exactly what we are.

What a mess!  Now, the ultimate occurrence of this identity phenomena probably happens to teenagers.  These poor kids are in the midst of trying to figure out who they are - breaking away from how their parents' define themselves, and creating a new "Me" that reflects what their own souls are all about.  And here comes the world, showing them all kinds of images, expectations, and judgements about who and what they "should" be, or even telling them "you're not good enough because....".  That's pretty confusing.  It's a wonder any of us makes it to adulthood reasonably well-adjusted!  And, there is a whole other chapter here on the world of the teenager, but suffice it to say, next time you meet one, have some sympathy - they are in the business of self-definition, and it's not an easy business.

But what happens when we become adults?  Well, often, we never do learn the lesson that nature has for us, and we believe the message that the collective (by which I mean humankind, the world, society, etc) tells us "you are who we see you as."  Dr. Wayne Dyer tells a wonderful story about a flight attendant he meets who is so broken down by the abuse she suffers at the hands of disgruntled passengers every day, she can barely smile or even get out of bed in the morning.  When he points out to her that these people aren't attacking HER, they are just attacking the being they see as "flight attendant", or the persona her outer shell has adopted, she begins to see that she can use that shell as armor, and deflect the negative comments.  Afterall, they aren't even about "the real her"!   In fact, we are all two separate beings - the inner Soul, and the outer shell - and how well these two performs their roles has a lot to do with how comfortable we feel in our own skin.

Maybe as spring awakens all around us, we might look a little more closely at the example Mother Nature has set for us.  Deep down inside we are unique, beautiful beings just waiting to burst into flower - and nobody knows what that flower will look like until we show them, deliberately.  Until then, the world sees the exterior "bark" we present.  If we remember that the exterior can be whatever we choose, and behind it our inner, genuine self is safely protected by that shell and can't be harmed or altered by the judgements, opinions, or wishes of others, perhaps we will feel safer aligning the external and internal so that people can get a glimpse of who we truly are.  When we do that, we fully live our lives, being and knowing who we truly are, and with the certainty that, whatever the world sees, we know the Truth.  There is beauty within.

New Friends

I can hardly believe it's been over a year now since my dear cat friend Haley left this life for the next.  For most of this year it has been hard to imagine caring for another animal as I cared for her.  She was a friend, teacher, constant companion for 12 of her 14 years of life.  Looking back on our time together, I am blown away by the growth that I went through, and almost a little saddened that I did not realized how much deeper a bond could exist between me and Haley, or any other animal, until fairly late in her life.  But, that is the way of all journeys - we come to a turning point only when we're ready, and not before.  In Haley's last months, she bestowed a virtual brain dump of teachings and support on me - much of which I barely understood at the time.  Her ability to see beyond the everyday facade to the real inner me, and to see where I was headed, is the sort of thing that sometimes only another being can do for us.  So often we are blind to our own path.

While the loss has eased, I still miss her terribly, and so when the opportunity to bring two new kitties into our home arose, I was hesitant.  I literally didn't know if I could care for them, or even like them all that much.  But, as usual, kitties showed up and so eventually I came around to showing up for them.  The boyfriend's parents were graced with the visit of a stray cat last spring, who soon had kittens.  Her story will be a feature of a later blog post, since I think it's a wonderful one in its own right.  And so, five kittens later, the household was understandably a bit stretched at the seams.  We decided to take two, a girl and a boy, but yet again the best laid plans were destined to undo themselves.  In the end two girls came home with us, and one of them is a brown and white tabby like Haley.  Ugh, even harder to look at this little one and see Haley, but not Haley.  And yet, after only two days with us, they are worming their fuzzy way into my heart with a frightening efficiency!  And so, I introduce Boone (aka Joan Booner, Speaker of the House), and Squeak (aka Ms. Pippa Squeak).  Boone came by her name thanks to her first Dad, who thought she looked a bit like Daniel Boones coonskin cap, and then of course it had to be politicized for use in this city.  Squeak, quite simply, squeaks.  She squeaks all day and night - quite a lot to say, this one.  She also squeaks at the birds outside, which is utterly charming.   I am so looking forward to what these two girls have to teach us.

New year, New life

Funny how time flies.  No sooner did I start this blog than my life turned upside-down and it had to be temporarily put on hold.  What with little time or brain cells left for thinking, let alone expounding on matters spiritual or animal, this post has become long overdue.  A month ago I was working full-time restoring buildings, and trying to find time for my too-abundant hobbies, quiet to feel where I was being guided spiritually, and some semblance of space for the loved ones in my life - including moi! It's interesting how when we sense we are stuck in an all too familiar rut and are spinning our wheels madly trying to get out, when we finally do find a way to move, it's often from or to a place we least expect.  When I finally stopped spinning I realized the only thing to do was to just get out of the car altogether.  It was time to move.

And so, I find myself a newly minted resident of Washington DC - today with the drivers license to prove it. It has been a month of moving, letting go, packing up, parting ways.  A month of ups and downs, tiny miracles, and new experiences.  And I am not working.  At least not in the traditional 9-5 sense as I've always done.  Days have a whole different rhythm - one I'm still learning to roll with. And yet I am, as always, busy.  Unpacking, moving a life, learning to see all the other little ruts I've been in now that I'm out of the big one.  And I have a list, a long one, of things I want to do.  Mostly though I'm ready to step out of the frantic pace of my life and create a life with more Life in it.  To listen to where I'm being guided to go, and to go there, even if it's shocking, scary, or makes me think other's will question my sanity!  After all, it is my life, and I wish to live it, not just some of the time, but everyday.  Many people I talk to express a sense of feeling a calling to some purpose in their life, and many ignore that call because it just doesn't seem possible, or even safe, to answer. I am blessed to find myself able to stop, listen, and ponder what is next, and by doing so I hope that my tiny life will create a ripple that allows someone else the space, the freedom, to entertain the possibility of "what's next for me?" and to hear the answer.

Blessings for the new year and your new life. Take it, it's yours.