LESSON #103

This face swirls through my conciousness whether I'm awake or asleep. This is Bartholemew...or #103. I prefer calling him Bart because it makes me think of Bart Simpson...a 2 dimensional cartoon of someone's imagination. My all too human brain wants to distance myself...frame this face with something that makes me feel better about taking  life. Wednesday was Lamb Day. A first for me because it is the first time in my life where I am face to face with a four legged animal...a sweet gentle face full of innocence having learned only that day after day brings the joys of friends and family, good grazing and the pleasures of earth...mud, grass, sky, rain, sun and butterflies...and I (in the form of Stephen) am about to steal that life away and wrap it pound by pound for my basement freezer. A cold November thought...a chilly act of murder. The only food I've ever known personally were 2 chickens that survived a summer of predators to our chicken coop. I personally took those chickens to a community chicken day where locals could bring chickens that they did not wish to overwinter. 2 little hens can't produce enough heat to keep them warm for winter so the stock pot became their final resting place. I have learned to handle death. Mostly, I force myself to face it and the more I do, the more my life becomes vital and filled with energy. November sees me feeling gratitude for all the human faces that I have loved and lost over the years. I thank each and every loved one for being a teacher and for opening a window into eternity for me. But I also thank my animal friends. As I flip through my memory file, it occurs to me that every little death I've faced has helped me meet this moment now. The little turtle who burned in the sun...the chameleon my sister stepped on,   our first dog and at least 4 cats...a baby bird I tried to save...the more I reflect, the more I remember. But I was brought up being protected from death. It never occurred to me that the package of burger meat in the skillet was a whole animal once because it always came from the grocery store. The first time I had Sushi, I couldn't swallow it because it was raw and I could imagine that fish alive and whole. I had to warm up to the idea in my head because something in my brain wanted to deny that I was capable of eating life and therefore just like any other animal. I can face the death...but not the killing. Stephen sent me away for a few hours on Wednesday to do the deed. When I took Sadie and drove away, knowing this animal would be dead next time I drove in the driveway...it was tearfully and with a lump of bitter grief in my throat. I had a long moment with Bart as he stood in the back of the truck wondering what was going on. I rubbed his head...saw the sweet innocence in his eyes. We butted foreheads and I thanked him over and over. He obliged by pressing his head against mine...he looked into my eyes unaccusingly. That is the look that has been following me around for a few days...more like an angel than a ghost. When I returned, Stephen confessed that he too had wept when he shot #103. I celebrate his range of emotion and am so glad I am married to a man who has the courage to share his feelings and to feel his feelings where other men tend to deny them in favor of an artificial bravado. I celebrate the range of his feelings and his owning them. He opted to be the trigger man in this, our adventure of harvesting our food.

Intense...yup. To make a killing on a beautiful bluebird day...to stain the grass with blood. Interesting to watch myself mentally wrestling with me as killer. I actually feel it sometimes in my garden...at the end of the season when it is time to pull up spent plants, I feel their demise as they have shared their fruits with me all season. There is no eating at all for anyone without killing. That is the bottom line. There is no such thing as "cruelty free" food. No matter what you put in your mouth...you are killing it. And if you have bothered to grow it yourself...you forge a bond with the living thing before you eat it...whether it's lettuce, spinach, brussel sprouts or basil...deer, lamb or chicken. Every manifestation of life is a repository of light from the sun...stars and universe. And every creature on Earth is a consumer of light energy to stay alive. What better way to learn that I...and all humans...are simply creatures doing what they must to survive. And that it is gratitude...that attitude of recieving a sacred gift...that allows a human conciousness to thrive.

With Bart...I have entered into a holy union. It is the deep reverence and the ability to recieve Bart's life and death with an attitude of gratitude that puts me on the same wavelength with him. We are one. To be willing to open myself up to the experience of killing my own food is a gift I've given myself. Many people never experience that intimacy. It is WILD. The wild self ...the animal self...at it's most basic level tends to be something we humans defend against in our civility. And yet that wild instinct is deeply tender and kind. Behind the killing is a softness...a tender gentleness that runs beneath the act itself. How else do we grasp the deeper truth of life on this planet than by challenging ourselves to face our fear...and sometimes that fear is protected and defended by what we think of ourselves. One act of courage in the face of fear has the power to bring a deeper level of knowing. Under that cruel killer of innocent life is a wild animal doing what it must and even deeper than that is the sweet reverence for life in all it's diversity. Loving my wild self has been one of my fondest dreams. It's why I'm here...in Maine.

I'll spare anyone who reads this of the details of my experience as a butcher. It's definitely not a hat I want to wear on a daily basis and I have a new appreciation for how a person can hear this career as a calling. We can eat meat only once or twice a week and it is plenty...so one or two animals a year is all we need. It is important to my wild soul that the animal I eat had a good life and a healthy environment. I realize that by making sure my food has a good life, I am putting myself in the same environment...and exposing myself to a good, healthy diet of light. And I hope that when I am the harvested animal, that my energy brings light and sustenance to those who contributed to my life.

So I'll leave you with the syncronicity of my Killing Day as an example of how the wild universe provides us with support and affirmation when we most need it. As Stephen concluded the act of killing, I was throwing a ball for Sadie...keeping her focused and distracted from the bloodletting. I noticed a huge hawk circling above us. In my peripheral vision, I noticed two of our neighbors chickens had escaped from their chicken condo and were walking around oblivious...innocent to the circling hawk who obviously had his sights set on dinner. I am frequently the recipient of eggs from these particular chickens and I felt a responsibility for them as no one was at home. Sadie and I rounded them up and got them under cover. The universe gave us an opportunity to save life at the same time as we were consuming life. And I take that as an indication of karmic balance. I am grateful to be alive...grateful for my life and grateful to give my life when my time comes. Lets just say...I am gratitude this year...grateful to be me...grateful to be traveling through life with my Stevo and for being open to recieving our 2 wonderful male children...I'm even grateful for our lifetime of economic challenge because it has taught me...life supports life...even if you don't know how or where or why. Somehow...our needs are met and I am so grateful.