Vividly, I recall standing in the windowed kitchen where we sat our groceries and drank tea. We took our meals, often in the living room, with community vegetarian potlucks swapping liberation tales, playing music and connecting.
I was not in the kitchen for tea this day, however. I was about to do an insensible act. As I stood before the stove, I reflected on the last few days. Meeting one of the five housemates, grandmother Meridel Le Sueur, was memorable. She was a poet, kind and born into a family of political and social activists. I knew three of her grandchildren. http://www.meridellesueur.org/ Meridel encouraged my piano playing, writing and cheerfulness. I loved her poetry, her interest in youth, and her generous ability to connect.
I remembered the day Jane Fonda sauntered through our kitchen en route to my roommate’s office to discuss new developments. I remembered how interested, curious and helpful my housemates were. I wondered if I’d discover why I was living in San Francisco (what I came to learn). I wondered if I remembered to put away the co-op food picked up late today.
I’m getting ahead of myself. Desiring to be a writer, and new to the Bay Area, I chanced upon a meeting with Pat Parker, poet and writer. We became friends. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pat_Parker Together we found ways to share history, poetry and dreams.
Although independent, I denied my truth when seeking my “herd”. Pat wanted to sit on the dock of the bay and go crabbing. I obliged her. My best days were when our nets were empty, but not our souls, as we talked and communed. My vegetarian conflict was relentless. How to say “no”, but not make waves? It’s amazing what we do to fit in.
Today my bucket was not empty. And Pat was about to travel. So I took my crab to share with one roommate before the others got home. My attention was on preparation, reflection and making sure I didn’t get pinched. Where were my heart, intelligence and learning? They abandoned me; or I submerged them in favor of pleasing “another”. Painful memories have a way of resurfacing; repeating our mistakes is their calling card. http://consultingforpassion.blogspot.com/2014/07/confessions-of-vegetarian-day-i-heard.html
Deftly and unconsciously I lifted out the crab. As she entered the pot, I was taught a lesson. The crab did not cry out. But her angry eyes glared into mine.
Later, shocked and stunned, I realized she was pregnant. Her angry face never left me. Do animals, birds, and sea creatures feel? What a stupid question. This was my defining moment. Whatever battle I still had to wage, I committed then and there to become a vegetarian.
Sometimes we need to walk through the hot fires of our conditioning and come out the other side, transformed. We need to be patient and loving, for the journey is deep and long to growth and healing.
What is your journey, dear reader, in releasing negative conditioning and embracing conscious living?
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