On pigs and peace.
Bob the bon vivant on full display. His fine sheen glinting off the autumn sun, a backdrop of golden leaves to illuminate his handsomeness. His pleasure, with my tractor bucketload offering of windfall apples and pears, profuse.
He’s a good pig. He’s a happy pig. He makes me laugh. He makes me swear. He’s the kind of pig I will be happy and grateful to eat one day soon.
If that seems somehow unpalatable or wrong to you I invite you, with honest sincerity, to read some of my thoughts and experiences regarding animal harvest slowdownfarmsteadharvest
Compassion isn’t looking away. Compassion is witnessing despite our discomfort.
Question your conditioning. I did and it opened up a world for me that brought the things I didn’t know existed. Deep connection, understanding, my duty to responsibility, and the answers to the holes in my modern white-washed spirit. It showed me my place and handed me peace.
We each have our own paths. I humbly suggest that they start with consideration of what is even ours and what has been planted. Are they even our beliefs? Our chosen values? Our decided upon behaviours or just automatic, reactive patterns?
I’m heading into this second part of my life pulling weeds and growing my own seeds. What about you?