Saving Myself, One Meal at a Time

At the end of May, I celebrated my one year anniversary of being vegan.

For nearly 38 years, I ate meat. I grew up in Saskatchewan, after all. But I always loved animals. I had pets growing up. I knew plenty of hunters (again, Saskatchewan) but never understood why anyone would want to shoot or harm a living creature.

And I was a champion for the environment. I recycled everything: paper, plastic. I never left the tap running while brushing my teeth. I mended socks and wore clothing items until they were threadbare.

As I grew older, I got really good at ignoring these instincts when it came to what I ate. I became a so-called "foodie," trying everything, becoming a local expert amongst my friends and colleagues on the best up-and-coming restaurants and cuisines. I always knew what hip new place was opening and, in many cases, was ahead of the masses in getting a table. No menu selection was off limits: bone marrow, sweetbreads, tripe, foie gras, veal.

© Cowspiracy on Instagram

I guess I wanted to be like everyone else I knew, dismissing videos showing cruelty to dairy cows or baby chicks being thrown into compactors. I decried "extremist" organizations like PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals), and wanted to believe the footage was somehow doctored or created under pretense, touted as propaganda.

But at some point, I started paying attention - mainly, because I could no longer believe my own bullshit.

The Vegan Society defines veganism as "a way of living which seeks to exclude, as far as is possible and practicable, all forms of exploitation of, and cruelty to, animals for food, clothing or any other purpose." Vegans eat a "plant-based diet avoiding all animal foods such as meat (including fish, shellfish and insects), dairy, eggs and honey" and avoid the use of "products like leather and any tested on animals."

The way I like to think of it is: no animals or animal-derived or tested products on your plate or person.

After nearly 38 years of blindly eating meat, I woke up. I accepted that the choices I was making when it came to food were wrong. I made the connection that what I was eating was once an animal who didn't want to die, who was tortured, who experienced pain and unimaginable fear - all in the name of nom nom nom.

I realized that sharing my pictures of meat-based meals on Instagram and Facebook was not only absurd, it was serving to perpetuate the normalization of inherently cruel and disgusting conditions in animal agriculture. By hanging on to my identity as a meat-based "foodie" and posting these pictures on social media, I was complicit in the exploitation of animals and the desecration of our planet to fuel humanity's sense of domination over all other forms of life.

© Sea Shepherd

No more. After a year of being vegan, I've learned so much. I am finally making decisions that are in-line with my values and beliefs. I am finally living a life that feels full of purpose. And my regrets are down to one: that I didn't go vegan sooner.

But I couldn't have done this alone. I am grateful to organizations like PETA and Mercy for Animals, who seek to end cruelty to animals by exposing the inhumane and torturous conditions in factory farming. These organizations inspired me to look past the end of my own nose and stomach, towards something greater: true respect for all creatures.

I am thankful for all of the animal sanctuaries (too numerous to name!), working to rescue animals who were destined for slaughter. These places give animals a home, a safe place to live the rest of their lives the way they always should have - in peace.

© Esther the Wonder Pig on Instagram

I am grateful for all of the individuals trying to make a difference and save the world - living by example, and promoting veganism in a positive and respectful way. This is not always easy to do, knowing just how much suffering and destruction is caused by those who choose to unapologetically eat meat without a second thought.

But lastly, I am thankful for friends, family and colleagues who have respected my decision to become vegan, who have expressed curiosity and interest in the reasons why, and remain open-minded when I sometimes get a little preachy. Thank you for your understanding and willingness to listen and learn more.

If you are curious and want to read more, here is a list of my favourite resources that inspired and helped me get started with being vegan:

• Food Politics: How the Food Industry Influences Nutrition and Health by Marion Nestle
• Steve Jenkins and Derek Walter’s TEDx Talk at St. Lawrence College
• Esther the Wonder Pig by Steve Jenkins and Derek Walter
• Documentaries such as Cowspiracy and What the Health by Kip Andersen and Keegan Kuhn
• The Vegetarian Starter Guide by ChooseVeg, a project of Mercy for Animals

© Whitman Edmiston

Snow Grateful

Having grown up on the Canadian prairies, I am no stranger to frigid weather. That said, having now spent nearly two decades (!) on the temperate west coast, I feel no shame in opting to curl up under a cozy blanket versus heading outside when even a hint of snow is in the forecast.

Thank you, today's snowfall warning, for giving me a guilt-free excuse to stay home. Today's "me forecast": blogging, internet surfing and television watching.

© weather.com

Writers Helping Writers

© TWSSFU

Over the weekend, I decided to join an online group of writers to sprint-write on our own, but "together" over social media.

The Writer's Studio at Simon Fraser University is designed to "help you develop your writing practice for personal interest and as a profession" and offers a program in Vancouver, as well as online. I am not alumni of The Writer's Studio (TWS), but this group hosts Twitter writing sprints, where those joining in write for 15 minutes, break for five minutes and repeat thrice. Mainly targeted to students and alumni, the exercise kindly welcomes all writers to participate.

The #TWSSprints, as they are known, provide a nice structure in which to write. As I'm sure other writers can attest, I've often found it difficult to write when there is too much time or flexibility involved. Deadlines are a good thing. Chunking up big pieces of work creates an environment where incremental progress can be observed.

All this to say, in my first ever Writing Sprint I managed to crank out 822 words in the 45 minutes of total writing time, the material of which will be refined, edited and eventually published on this space. What a great exercise to get a head start on some burgeoning story ideas that have been rattling around in the ol' noggin.

So big thanks, @TWSSFU, and to all the kind, supportive people I met on Twitter from this community of writers for "giving it away." Hope to see you again next month!

Want to make a submission to 12 Months of Gratitude but don't know where to start?
Be in touch. Let's hash out some ideas together, if need be. I'd also certainly recommend joining a #TWSSprints session, if you need the motivation and a little support. For the details on what can and can't be submitted, be sure to read the Submission Guidelines.

Recognizing the Good in a Time of Suck

The last few days have been challenging. Nothing particularly earth shattering has happened: a busted oven, my bus running late. But these garden variety annoyances have certainly contributed to and resulted in my current general malaise.

I've realized, it's times like these when it can be hardest to remember to be grateful. And they are hardest because life is busy. Hectic. Who has time to think about being grateful when there are meals to be made, clothes to clean, work to do, broken appliances to replace? No one, that's who! Right?

Wrong.

Readers of my past online work will be familiar with my penchant to occasionally rant profusely and inappropriately opine using strong language. But given that this is a blog about gratitude, kudos and thanks, I shall force myself to refrain from this practice and focus on good things instead - even though the last thing I feel like doing right now is forcing myself to appreciate something, or someone, because frankly, I just. Don't. Care. But somewhere deep down, I know that this is exactly the time to remind oneself of good things. Good vibes beget good vibes... or something like that, anyway.

So, here goes. Thank you, little dog who I met on my way home yesterday. You were wet, and smelly - and wanted so much to say hello to me and lick my hand, that I couldn't help but instantly be in a better mood, even if for a moment. I'm grateful for your sweet nature and disposition that led you to comfort a wretched ol' gal like me.

Anyone else having a bad day? Week? What are your strategies (positive, I hope) for coping? Let me know in the comments or send me an email. Hearing from you would make my day!

When in doubt, hug a friend. Pic cred: wat.ki

Happy Birthday, Dad

Thank you, Dad, for hiring me as your editor.

Readers of my previous blog Five by 35 will know that I spent the better part of last year fundraising for Diabetes Canada and training to run a marathon in memory of my dad, who died in 2016 after long suffering complications arising from type 2 diabetes.

But before all of that, before finding a passion in public service, even before moving to Canada's west coast - as a pre-teen, my dad would ask me to proofread materials he had written.

Frankly, he was a grumpy sort who liked to complain to various companies about things they were doing wrong and ways they could do things better. He wrote a lot of letters. In many ways, he was always trying to "get his." But having emigrated from the Philippines to Canada in 1971, with English as his second language, he wanted to make sure he was getting his point across in an effective manner.

Enter: me. Wee editor.

At first I would proofread these materials for free. Over time, I became... well, if not industrious over these requests, then definitely opportunistic. I would say he "hired" me when I started charging a dollar (or loonie, for my fellow Canucks) per letter.

Those letters were the first in a long line of materials over the years that I would proofread - not just for my dad, but for those in my work life, as well. I worked hard at being my dad's editor, and learned skills that have served me well even throughout my professional years: diligence, attention to detail, applying a critical eye to the written word.

Today would have been my dad's 80th birthday. I miss him but I am grateful for the time we had, including weird moments like discussing whether or not his grammar was correct and whether his opinions might be too strongly worded.

Happy birthday, Dad. There will never be another like you.

Me with my dad, as a tot and at my wedding 10 years ago