The power of a word....

I have never really understood why more people don't see the shape of words. I don't mean just the shapes of the letters that comprise the words, but the emotional shapes and essences of words. Take, for instance, the word 'terror'...I have always thought that - at least in its lower case format - the right-slanted rs give it a decidedly menacing aspect. Likewise 'horror', to me, is a word that looks like an expression of that which it is describing - a face with eyes wide open, frozen in a mime of pure fright.

Am I alone in reading such images into words?

Perhaps not. There are, as even a brief gander around the blogosphere will show you, plenty of folks who attach images and emotions to the word 'vegan'. This otherwise unassuming little five-letter term seems to be inextricably bound up in negative connotations in the minds of non-vegans of all flavours and is often accused of ugliness or crudeness or is associated with '-isms', such as militantism, dogma, extremism and radicalism. All of this is, to my mind, bound up in the fact that veganism turns the spotlight on the social acceptance of animal abuse and exploitation. And this makes non-vegans naturally uncomfortable.

To me, however, the word vegan is a perfect expression of compassion in action, of simple and elegant truth, of the philosophy of intentional and active non-harm. It encapsulates the values I choose to live by, that form who I am and who I strive to become. It is an everyday manifestation of my principles and the ethical baseline for every action I take, every thought I think and every interaction I have with others. Distinct and separate from 'vegetarian', it is so much more than just a diet: it is a whole way of being in the world and of looking both inward and outward. Spiritually, it is peace; physically, it is beauty; emotionally, it is empathy, kindness and love.

So.....that is why I am joining the ranks of those who love and celebrate this word, who embrace and wear it proudly.

I am getting my first tattoo: vegan.

:)

Simplicity, humility and plain humanity

Today was crazy at work so I had to limit myself to ambling around just one blog and the one I plumped for was www.vegansoapbox.com. There is always something interesting, sometimes heartbreaking, usually insightful and often uplifting to be read there and today was no exception.

The following is a post by Eccentric Vegan and I love its simplicity, humility and plain humanity. Enjoy....


I’m Not Perfect, Just Vegan


I’m not perfect.
I ate fishes for another two years before I realized fish felt pain too.
I ate eggs and dairy for decades before I realized just how easy it is to be vegan.

I even understood the logic behind veganism: that every dairy cow is destined for slaughter, that calorie for calorie eggs are one of the most cruel foods you can eat, that male chicks and male dairy calves are killed very near the beginning of their lives, that dairy cows are forcefully impregnated, given hormones, steroids, and antibiotics, and most importantly, that animals are not tools for human use...yet I didn’t go vegan.

See, I tried going vegan once before, but it felt too difficult. I had trouble finding food, finding support, finding good information. It was just too much trouble.

Once I got my priorities straight, once I felt safe to be the person I wanted to be, once I felt supported to live my values… I went vegan. And I stayed vegan.

Sometimes doing the right thing takes practice.

But no, I’m not perfect. I eat too much sugar. I drink too much coffee. I used to smoke cigarettes. I don’t exercise often enough. I don’t say “sorry” often enough. I don’t say “thank you” often enough. I can be petty and mean.

I’m not perfect.
I’m not superior to you.
I’m just vegan,
and i think you should be too.


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For the original post, click here and show Eccentric Vegan some love!

Stay vegan, friends!

Tofu in Paradise

I have been offline for the longest time with no real excuse except for life having become busier than ever and then My Beloved and I...went on vacation. Nothing particularly blog-worthy about that, I guess, except that this was my first vacation - out of the country, in fact - as a vegan.

I was nervous. Ready to be surprised. Worried I'd go hungry. Pleased that I might be forced into losing a little more weight, a little more quickly. Anxious that I would find myself faced with the choice of an endless stream of salads or a beheaded bovine on a bun.

I had cause to worry. And at the same time I should have trusted in people's inate goodness and reluctance to let me starve. At least, on their watch.

Grab yourself a nice cup of tea and a vegan mojito muffin and let me back-track a little....

My Beloved and I are scuba divers. Here we are, in fact:



I am the one in the extremely fetching blue mask.

Now divers are a strange bunch, I have to confess. We - I use the collective plural, not the 'Royal We' - love, love, love to spend time with our piscene little dive buddies and then what do we do? Grill 'em for dinner!

Where, I ask you, is the logic in that?

So this year was the first in which I could look these wonderful little mites in the eye and honestly wish them no harm. It was an incredibly liberating feeling. At least, I think, until dinner time when, after the exertion of the morning followed by an arduous afternoon slumber in the hammock, I would be ready for just about anything that happened to wind up on my plate.

Or so I feared....

You see, for those of you who are not divers or who do dive but have immense, magnificent and preternatural (ohhhh, I just knew at some point I'd be able to use that word!) control over yourselves and your appetite, diving is an exquisitely hunger-inducing activity.

Much more so than - say - light sleeping....or extreme origami.

This is especially true for me as I am horribly seasick and rarely fail to delight the fish with my early morning 'offerings'. So by the evening, I am generally ravenous.

In years past, I have devoured more than my share of chickens' body parts smothered in a variety of sauces, of cows' behinds grilled over fire and, of course, of fishes hauled out of their world directly onto my plate. But this year was different. That was all off the menu to me now. And I'll admit to having a twinge of anxiety that my hunger might triumph over my ethics while on this tiny island, far from home, far from censure, in the Caribbean. (BTW: we stayed here and I cannot recommend it too highly - it was wonderful!)

So it was with trepidation that I was introduced to the resort's chef on checking in. As My Beloved struggled with our enormous dive bags, I was introduced to Chef Gregory who strode out of the kitchen to shake my hand. 'Here's our vegan!', exclaimed the receptionist breathily, and with a beautiful tropical lilt and the kind of inflection usually reserved for calming small children. Attempting to strike a particularly veganly pose, I flashed Chef Gregory the most gracious smile I could muster at such short notice and declared that - ah well, salads are always good...I could do with losing a few pounds of course! - and then felt extremely silly.

I had fallen into the trap already of apologising for my choices - what a twit. Oh well, as it was, it made no difference. Every evening after scanning the buffet-style food available to everyone else, I was treated to a wonderful vegan entree - each night a surprise, but uniformly delicious. So excited was I at the fact that they'd gone to the effort of getting tofu for me - and learning to cook it - that I couldn't focus my camera well enough to get a good picture. What follows is blurry but crucial evidence that people will bend over backwards if you state what you want. And if you state it ahead of time, preferably by email so that if your anxiety gets the better of you, at least the groundwork's already been done!

Feeling hungry, albeit in a salad phase:




A tofu-based confection:




Damn, this was good and pretty as a picture:




And on our last night there, I was treated to this wonderous creation:




As said, my pix do not do the dishes justice as I was so excited by the prospect of it all that I screwed up the focus somewhat. However, My Beloved's cool composure managed to capture the image that summed it all up:



One very happy vegan!

Remember: wherever you are in the world - with only the fewest of exceptions - there are always vegetables, usually rice and generally fruits. So really: don't worry - stay vegan, friends!

Veganism Means Saying Yes!

As I was driving up to work today, I was listening to a podcast by my favourite vegan activist, Colleen Patrick-Goudreau, on 'Defining Vegan'. Although I would love everyone to check out her work directly, the synopsis is as follows....In essence, she seeks to reposition emphasis on the expansiveness of the vegan lifestyle, rather than upon perceived restrictions. Her basic tenet is that - from the outside - veganism is seen as a way of life that revolves around the word 'No'. 

'No' to meat, 'no' to milk, 'no' to eggs...etc etc etc. Whereas those of us who are fortunate enough to be living the vegan life see it as quite the opposite. It's a way to say 'Yes' to everything we believe and everything for which we stand. 'Yes' to compassion; 'yes' to living our own truth in the world; 'yes' to standing up for our principles, and 'yes' to living free from hypocrisy. Plus, of course, saying yes to the myriad new foods that do not center around the mutilated body parts of animals.

And, as I was listening, I reflected on how this manifests daily in my own life. Last night, for dinner for example, we made a risotto. In my pre-vegan days, I would have sauteed off some chicken's breast and grated a ton of cheese into the mix. OK, so there would have been onions and mushrooms in there too, but the main point would have been the chicken, or maybe some shrimp. Last night, however, the feast included leeks, onions, garlic, eggplant, fire-roasted red pepper (which I roasted myself!), sun-dried tomatoes (which I assuredly did not dry myself!!), portabello mushrooms, zuccini and a handful of mixed herbs. The result was a feast for the eyes, the nose and the tastebuds!

And the really incredible thing is how much stronger and more individual these vegetables taste. How I can pick out the salty tang of the tomatoes, the dusky smoke of the eggplant lightly dredged with Hungarian paprika, the basil-scented olive oil...The textures are different too - the still-crisp snap of the zuccini skin, the soft melt of the diced eggplant, the silky ribbons of roasted red pepper, and the pop and chew of the barley I used instead of rice.

Everything felt like it was in a perfect balance with no single element dominating another. Which is, of course, the very definition of harmony.

And, as you see, harmony tastes awfully good!