Reverent is hardly the first word to leap to the lips of those who know me when asked to describe me. I've found a sense of humor to be particularly effective in behind-saving throughout my life. And truth be told, I've got no real use for religion. Seems a lot of these folks are claiming to be close to Jesus when ain't none of them crowding him any.
I digress. I am, however, a spiritual person. I am attempting to become more deeply so. With this endeavor at heart and having been raised within the rigors of a Christian church calendar, The Lent/Easter season seemed a natural prompt to work on my relationship with God, since like with any relationship, if you don't work on it, put energy into it, it won't flourish.
Now, I've been celebrating Fat Tuesday, Mardi Gras, with some vigor since I was a teen. But these days, I find myself taking the holiday into context. The last blast before forty days of resistance to temptation leading to eventual redemption and rebirth (and the pagan calendar marks the vernal equinox, the first day of spring, at roughly the same time; we have the ancients to thank for the dyed eggs and baby animals).
So I challenged myself to explore a way to pay tribute to my values at this time of relinquishment leading to rebirth. I value peace. World peace, a peaceful home, and inner peace. I want to increase the peace. I started to think about what the tradition of giving up meat during Lent really meant. Mostly likely it's all about lack of refrigeration back in the day. But what if I spun it?
What if for forty days I went without eating anything that died violently? I've been doing a lot of research about trauma for my counseling practice, and I'm learning that trauma is truly stored in us on a cellular level. Trauma happens to our souls, minds...and bodies. I started to think about what might be stored in meat that lived a stressful life...or died a stressful death.
Don't get me wrong! I was raised by a hunter! I truly believe those little pointy teeth up front are for tearing flesh, and if God hadn't had meant us to eat animals, they wouldn't be so darned delicious. And wild animals that are hunted are actually much less stressed than the Food, Inc. most of us eat. And so with a sense of adventure, I decided I could try going vegetarian for forty days as a outward tribute to my commitment to peace. With an escape clause if I got particularly stabby. Did I mention I'm not terribly reverent?
Largely, too, a plant based diet has been proven as superior for your health, so forty days isn't going to kill me; in fact, I might discover I feel a little lighter and cleaner. Maybe. Or I will discover, I fear, that my sister the cow I must again enjoy on a bun with cheese. And with some bacon. Good news: wine is from fruit and coffee is from bean. I can do this.
I'm on day two. But I am interested to see what effect eliminating meats...and yes, fish and seafood too...for Lent will have on my body, mind, and soul. But if you try to take my eggs or dairy products from me, I'll cut you. However it goes, you know I'll keep you posted.
