Eat, Pray, Breathe

Eating has always been one of my favourite pastimes. Even though I've been doing it all my life with great gusto, I've only recently started to do it properly. When I say properly, I don't mean healthily. I'm referring to the actual act of consuming the food.
I've always eaten way too fast. I just scarf that food down as if I were starving, which of course I'm not. As long as I've been living and eating people have observed this unattractive, unhealthy habit of mine, and making jokes about it, or asking me if I came from a large family, which I did not. No, I've simply always been a super-fast, voracious eater, and I don't really know why.

Eating is one of the most basic and obvious forms of consumption that humans do. It's not only a necessity, it's pleasurable. Depending on what you're eating, it can be sensuously and joyously so. Ramming food down your throat before you've had a chance to taste it defeats the whole purpose of eating fine food. Yet that's what I've been doing all my life, even when I'm partaking of gourmet cuisine. Kinda stupid, really.
Well, that's all changing now, and not just because I've been missing out on the subtleties and refinements of good food. Fast eating, like fast food (which I don't eat) reminds me of all the things that I most hate about what's wrong with the world - greed, gluttony, and the consumption of more more more. It's the-person-with-the-most-stuff wins mentality. Aargh!
Since I'm always going on about leaving as small a carbon footprint as possible, eating slowly will certainly help this particular human eating-machine do that. I'll eat less because I'll be giving my stomach and brain time to figure out that I've eaten enough. (It takes about twenty minutes to do that, and in those first twenty minutes I sure can pack it in.) That's a win/win situation for both me and the planet. It means I'll lose weight and take up less space, as well as pollute less.
There was a time when I had such a low opinion of myself that I figured all I was doing on this earth was consuming, polluting and taking up space. A friend of mine had to point out to me that we all do that. But we should all be doing less of it, and that includes eating slowly and mindfully. As strange as it seems, eating has become a spiritual disicpline for me. After eating so quickly and unconsciously all my life, slowing down, masticating and tasting my food isn't as easy as it sounds. At this point I'm still diving right into the food as soon as it's laid down before me. (Old habits are hard to break.) It usually takes me several mouthloads before I remember to slow down and chew. To heighten my awareness of zen eating habits, I also say grace to myself before I eat. Or at least I've been trying to. When I forget to say grace before I eat, I'll pause momentarily for a silent prayer of thanks during the meal. Better late than never. It still serves to slow me down while I'm being grateful.
The beauty of all this is that I also get to to indulge in another favourite pastime of mine - breathing. Deep breathing and slow eating go very well together. Really. Slowing down helps me to actually taste the food, and taking long, leisurely breaths every so often makes the food taste better, because it clears out and freshens the olfactory pathways. It also helps with digestion. What's not to like?
Best of all, my new-found discipline in better living suits my sensibilities concerning the evils of a consumer-based society. I want to consume less because it's not just better for me, it's better for the environment. You don't see herds or packs of fat animals in the wild. They live according to need and not greed.
I enjoy eating more than ever these days. I'm eating less and with more grace. It's a great way to apply the human gift of reason to a basic necessity of life. Yum.
-G. P.

Earth and Me

Everything that happens on this planet, even if it's on the other side of the earth and I'll never know about it, affects me. Sometimes I feel as if my body is the earth, or at least a micro-version of it. If I sustain an injury, or am bitten by a spider, I tend to wonder why it happened, rather than how, because the longer I live the more I'm convinced that there are no accidents or coincidences. I'm always certain that there is a message being conveyed to me, and that I should be paying attention to my body, which is the vehicle communicating the message. Most of the time the information I'm getting is about me specifically, of course. But sometimes I feel that the things I think about, which seem to have nothing to do with me and where I live, end up affecting my health and well-being.
I apologize if this particular ramble of mine seems rather obscure, but I don't wish to be specific right now. If I go into detail, it will probably send me into a tailspin. So I'm keeping this blurb very general. (I know that this opens me up to the sort of criticism that flaky, airy-fairy, pie-in-the-sky, new-agey types are subject to when they blether about inter-connection and the unity of all life. Well too effing bad. I don't want to go there, and since this is my little web I can bloody well make unsubstantiated arguments if I want to. And use run on sentences, or end them in prepositions, or go off on tangents without ever coming back to my original thesis.)
But I digress.
Back to my body, my self, as a microcosm of Earth ...
I can't control everything that happens to me or around me or around the world. But I can control the way I react to them. I frequently feel as if my body is reacting before I have a chance to consciously respond. If that's true, then I should be able to somehow, in a teeny-weeny, nonetheless significant way (see previous entry), affect that which affects me. When I'm functioning at my best, and have all the crap that's bothering me under control, I feel powerful enough to exert some influence somewhere - preferably in the areas of my life and the planet that I believe need care. So that's what I've begun to do.
I've started to dedicate all the best of me to the life of this Earth I revere. It's my religion. It's my faith. Earth doesn't need my personal crap. She has enough to deal with. So I'm sacrificing my addiction to struggle and pain for the sake of Mother Earth. And it's one hell of a tough addiction to give up. But every time I choose to breathe deeply, slow down and take the moral high road in difficult situations, I experience some sort of immediate and positive result, usually on the side of peace and accord. That often comes with personal sacrifice - such as suppressing spontaneous, uncensored self-expression, which can be really hard for a drama queen like me. It means listening more than talking. Or turning the other cheek when fighting back seems so much more satisfying. It means focussing on what's right and good and beautiful when I'm overwhelmed with so much that isn't.
I've often wondered how I'm supposed to help others when I feel as if I can barely help myself. Now that I've discovered a way to actively worship Earth on a daily basis, i.e., keeping one infinitesimal part of the planet - me - the way I would like the entire planet to be, I don't feel so helpless and useless. Taking care of myself has become tantamount to taking care of everything that matters to me. I'll quote Gandhi again as I've done before - Be the change you wish to see. I've been using that quote as a moral guideline for quite some time, but now it's become a matter of faith. It makes me feel that even my personal, selfish needs and actions are somehow still serving the bigger picture. Okay, so that won't make me a saint. But I feel more closely connected to my deity, Mother Earth. And that empowers me.
- G.P.

Earth First

My heart is breaking. That's not s great way to begin this entry on my little web, but there is a huge tear in the great web we call Earth, and I'm breaking my promise to myself that I would only write about good or happy things, or how to help myself and others feel well and happy. Given the scope of the horrendous oil leak in the Gulf of Mexico, I simply can't ignore the tragedy in my little web.
Like many people I've spoken to, I feel helpless to do anything. Most of the people who care about the tragedy that is still unfolding in the gulf waters, whether they are directly affected or not, can only wait and watch as BP works on plugging up the leak, something they should have begun with greater diligence as soon as the rig exploded. But no, greed ruled out any common sense and foresight. Spending serious money on implementing safety measures and plans for such contingencies is not profitable. Greed is short-sighted and short term. The patriarchal paradigm of big money and corporate power is slowly but surely killing this magnificent planet and all her beautiful, innocent creatures.
I get very little satisfaction knowing that BP is no doubt done for as a company. Their profits are being permanently and forever eaten up by the same oil that has made them filthy rich. Once again, Mother Earth is showing us, tragically and literally, just how filthy money-mongering is. But enough of the rant. My anger does not appease me, nor does it help the suffering of the wildlife along the Gulf of Mexico and Atlantic coasts.
I avert my eyes and turn away from pictures of pelicans covered in suffocating, slimy goo. I'm not burying my head in the sand. I know what's going on, so having my heart seize up with grief and anxiety does nothing to ease the situation. But the tragedy in the Gulf of Mexico has made me more caring and careful of my individual impact on this planet. I do my best to leave as small a carbon footprint as I can, but now I guess this Earth that I worship wants me to make even more sacrifices. Of course, my personal sacrifices such as not driving a car may seem inconsequential and fruitless, but that's because I'm only one person. But when more people care more, a ripple effect is created, and another strand in this great web is strengthened, so that one day, if it's not too late, every individual's actions will be shown to matter.
I once read a parable about a bird and a squirrel who sat together on a slender branch of a tree. It began to snow. After a little while the bird warned the squirrel that he should probably get off the branch because it might break if the snow got too heavy.
"It's just a few flakes," replied the squirrel, "what can they do?" The squirrel thought he was being funny when he began to count the snowflakes as they landed on the branch.
"Hey, here comes snowflake #3,042. " He laughed as the flake landed on the snow that was piling up.
"And here comes snowflake #3,043, " he said, mocking his feathered friend, "Well would you look at that? Nothing happened - again!"
The bird just sat there, saying nothing, when snowflake #3,044 fell from the sky. It landed ever so gently and quietly on the snow-laden branch, when all of a sudden the branch snapped, and down fell the squirrel. The bird just up and flew away.
This little story shows just exactly how much we matter as individuals when we all work together towards a common goal. Sure, often one person's efforts don't make a noticeable difference. But with patience and perseverance, all our individual efforts will prove worthwhile when we are joined by others. Sooner or later the scales will tip. That is why I shall not stop thinking, speaking, behaving and acting in ways that make things better. I admit that I weaken from time to time and do things that are convenient and fast, and not good for me or the planet. But every failure makes me more determined to stick to my beliefs and live out the big picture.
I pray for my fellow creatures all over the world, but especially in the Gulf of Mexico right now. I send them light, love and healing prayers. I know that there many other people out there who are doing the same. We are creating a ripple that may, if enough people join us, help to heal the tear in the web. And I pray that a web built out of such individual fibres will prevent such a disaster from happening again. Please.
- G.P.