I often view the markets with a mixture of pleasure and disgust. I can't help that side of me, as I gradually became a vegetarian bit by bit. It started off as I started growing physically intolerant of meat. Now, as I have become more sensitive, the smell of the flesh of dead animals bothers me. It was a strange evolution for me, but I have managed to stay away from red meat completely.
I walked through the market, and felt the heat of the day as we were all walking through Zhong Shan, and saw people who just needed to sleep. It's like that with the body, if you fail to listen to its needs it just kind of gives out on you.
As I wandered by, a friend and I noticed these two fish who had been cut wide open to display their freshness. I was totally horrified because their hearts were still beating. Half of their bodies were gone, and there were the hearts, still pumping blood. I felt done. The last bit of meat I had left on my menu was gone.
They were still struggling to live and somehow I became completely sympathetic to their pain. No, I don't get after people who need meat to live. However, in a very strange way I wondered about my growing intolerance within myself.
I looked at the fish heads, with mouths wide open and then saw the fish in the pond outside, fat and swarming to be fed, ever so trusting, poking their heads out of the water.
What a different view life has in this pond for them. Maybe in a few months I can eat salmon steaks again...maybe, but only if they are killed swiftly with a bit of mercy. Or I could just stay as I am...not missing the taste of their flesh, and choosing to go a different way. We often forget about the lives that feed into ours. How little would it take for someone to view us as little more than fattened cattle if intelligence was used as a food guide?
I walked through the market, and felt the heat of the day as we were all walking through Zhong Shan, and saw people who just needed to sleep. It's like that with the body, if you fail to listen to its needs it just kind of gives out on you.
As I wandered by, a friend and I noticed these two fish who had been cut wide open to display their freshness. I was totally horrified because their hearts were still beating. Half of their bodies were gone, and there were the hearts, still pumping blood. I felt done. The last bit of meat I had left on my menu was gone.
They were still struggling to live and somehow I became completely sympathetic to their pain. No, I don't get after people who need meat to live. However, in a very strange way I wondered about my growing intolerance within myself.
I looked at the fish heads, with mouths wide open and then saw the fish in the pond outside, fat and swarming to be fed, ever so trusting, poking their heads out of the water.
What a different view life has in this pond for them. Maybe in a few months I can eat salmon steaks again...maybe, but only if they are killed swiftly with a bit of mercy. Or I could just stay as I am...not missing the taste of their flesh, and choosing to go a different way. We often forget about the lives that feed into ours. How little would it take for someone to view us as little more than fattened cattle if intelligence was used as a food guide?
