Lately I've been paying attention to dreams, and by that I don't mean lifelong aspirations and goals (although I've certainly been paying more attention to those, too, but that's another post). Rather, I mean the wanderings of the mind in the depths of sleep where the subconscious rules and the conscious mind takes a back seat. I used to keep a dream journal a few years ago, but eventually stopped for one reason or another. I found that notebook about a month ago, and decided it was time to get back to that practice.
Right after the last full moon, I began having very detailed, even narrative dreams. At least one of them has a screenplay in the making, I'm sure of it. I also began having dreams driven by that part of me that might be termed "intuition" or "Higher Self" or maybe even my "Spirit Guide." Whatever. One of these intuitive dreams was rather gruesome and had to do with chickens and ovens. That's all I'll say, because it really was disturbing. So much so that when I awoke, I realized immediately that my inner wisdom was telling me that it was time to stop eating meat. Again.
In the mid-90s I became a vegetarian, and I enjoyed that lifestyle up until I went to live in Korea, where everything but dessert is fish or meat-based. I can remember being at a restaurant with my friends and pointing in my little Lonely Planet Phrasebook to the Hangul for "vegetarian." The ajumma looked at me like I was a crazy person. And so my meatless ways began their decline into wanton chicken-pork-fish consumption. When I came back to the States nearly a year later, I shacked up with my future husband who is a complete meat-a-saurus. It ain't a meal unless there's a giant meat-wad involved, as far as he's concerned. Although I've never returned to eating beef (which I gave up in the early 90s for health reasons), I have certainly eaten my share of other animal meats.
To which I can honestly respond now: GROSS. So this isn't a health-based decision. As I patiently explained to my brother (who insisted that God didn't give us these canine teeth to eat plants), I'm doing this because I can't condone the killing of other animals so that we can pleasure ourselves with the richness of their meat. Having mastered the art of farming, we humans are able to cultivate and produce vegetables, fruits, and grains. We are able to create food with those grains that is 100% protein-rich. There is no need for us to eat meat, unlike our ancestors who hunted and gathered what they could (hence the canine teeth left over from several thousand years of evolution).
I'd like to think that humans can continue to evolve, and from my Buddhist and otherwise personal set of ethics, choosing not to eat animal meat is the next step. It's true; we are what we eat: proteins, sugars, carbohydrates, fats - and I would also add to that list karma.
When I made this announcement on Facebook, I was prepared for a variety of responses, including smart-ass comments from certain friends of mine who believe that a good hamburger is next to godliness. While I didn't get any wisenheimer comments, I did get a typical response to this issue, which basically says "with humanely sourced meat, animals aren't endangered or maltreated, and since meat tastes so good, this is good enough." I respectfully pointed out that meat, humanely "sourced" or not, can only be gotten by killing an animal, and it is that to which I object. No response from the person who commented, but a few people liked my reply. Whatever. I'm not trying to win any debates or contests, but I am ready to talk about my position so that people can understand it, if they even care, that is.
I'm not here to preach about being a vegetarian (because god knows I don't know how those vegans get on without cheese and eggs). But I will say this: follow your truth no matter how bizarre or unpopular it might be. Get it on with your inner wisdom. Keep a dream journal if you're a person who remembers your dreams, or find some quiet time to consider what you really want out of life. Whatever the answer is, well, there's your answer.
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