Tag: queer

where have i been

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today i was walking to a food cart pod to get a some pizza and a beer. i’ve been super busy (i don’t like being super busy) so on a slower day, i decided to walk and listen to a podcast. i choose SNAP JUDGEMENT. the latest episode is called “tin man” and evaluated what “we” are missing. so here i am, a vegan pizza and a pint down, wondering what have i been doing, what am i missing that keeps me from connecting to people, and why have i not posted any of my adventures in the past several months. questions always lead me to more questions: what HAVE i been doing, do i really want to connect with people and if so how, who, why? and how do i explain my absence from writing?

well, i’m not ready to address all those questions brought up in the podcast so lets talk about where i have been and what i’ve been up to. i started an intimate relationship… yayaya, i know what you are thinking… ok really i don’t. however, what i think is that at first i got so distracted with the whole getting to know someone new, having lots of sex the kind of sex that wears you out and makes you want more… to the point i was missing so many meals and still trying to work and not talking to people or reading the news or work email or…. so anyway, at some point we realized we were building (i don’t really like this term) or in or something beyond a casual “see ya when i see ya” thing…. there is a relationship happening. i never really thought i would want another relationship. i kind of think of myself as a sort of lone wolf. i meet someone. it only lasts for a short period of time because i don’t really want to share my precious time or energy on them, and neither do they on me… its great. kind of superficial. but it works for some time. also i have some really amazing friends that fill me in so many ways.

do i keep it this way because i am some kind of person lacking the drive it takes to build relationships? do i hate drama so much that i just don’t want anything at all to do with it? do i just really really like my time alone that much? or have i just not met the person who can relate with me in this same way? or is there some other fear that i just have not dug deep enough into? i’ve had a couple of really great loves in my life, why settle for anything less just to not be “alone”? or am i just missing something that makes me want to connect to another person in a more intimate way?

i think i’m looking at all of these, and the last one in particular, as i find myself in a relationship with someone i’ve known for a little while. we met on a trail run back when i was living in a van for a spell. she was in a relationship, and i was not into relating, but liked meeting new people. forward a couple of years, and one night in december it all changed. i had just started thinking how i would like to connect with someone again. that i missed those special moments that can happen when you have certain attractions with folks. i had just realized i loved and cared for another friend, and thereby found myself opening back up to this way of relating to people in my life.

so there we were, standing outside a bar (the band we went to see was sold out) drinking cocktails by a fire. people came and went while we stood, soaked on the backside, glowing warmth on the front. we left to go finally eat some food. had a bazaar and excitingly good conversation with a stranger who came to our table in tears, and left smiling and laughing. she bought us a round of jamison to celebrate her moving from tears to laughter, insisting that my friend and i had been in a relationship for sometime, that she could tell. after the jamison, she left us alone in yet another glow. my intent was to bike her home. she invited me to stay and cuddle… to cuddle. my reply was that i don’t cuddle [so here we disagree on what happened, so this dialoque appearently happened in my head until sometime later; as in weeks later]… i mean i do cuddle. i love to cuddle. but i don’t cuddle my friends (unless they ask me to spoon them like a friend and then of course i do) but really, i don’t spoon or cuddle my friends. i hold them in times of need. i am a hugger, but i also knew that if this woman and i were going to get into a bed, naked, and cuddle, that it would not remain cuddling. in other words, if we got into bed together that night we would have sex… that was my way of dealing with consent culture. because i do want consent culture, but i don’t want to have to ask at every step. i want to be with someone who will tell me what is going on with them, and i to them, and we can both read body language and ask if the fear we are sensing is a good exciting fear, or a fear where we stop and talk about what is happening, or just stop because they say so… no reason needed.

according to her, she asked if i wanted to stay, i looked up at the sky (having a conversation in my head) and said sure. she gave me cloths to sleep in. we cuddled in. warmth filled our bodies that had been cooled by a winter rain and bike ride.

anyway… we got into bed and it wasn’t long before we began to explore. i want to say we were inseparable from then on, but not really. a few nights later i invited her to a friend’s show. we walked to the bar.  after some music, walked to the waterfront to check out the “no-car” bridge. maybe climb over and cross it. but it was during Ferguson and protests and cops with pepper spray and batons just waiting for an excuse to use them, and razor wire along the top of the fence that i couldn’t figure out why it was there, who cared?…. so we drank beer under the bridge, talked, and had sex on the bench along the bike path.

there were a few more encounters like this, and then we became somewhat inseparable. though not really. we both had our things going on, but when we didn’t, we could spend long periods of time in each others company…. not just having sex, but exploring one another’s desires, wants, needs, asking questions not so much during but after, talking about what worked or didn’t as well, learning…..

we become confused on why we couldn’t get breakfast at 5 pm or why brunch ended at 3. reality became warped. on one spring camping trip that was particularly rainy, we stayed in the back of the car all weekend, we craved some kind of special room service, and started developing plans for long hotel stays with room service, but we really prefer our own cooking, so what if we made a bunch of treats that were nutritious and delicious that we could eat to replenish calories and satiate us until we were really ready to get out of our sleeping area….salads are great! pre-made and ready for the simple dressing to toss it all into… lots of seeds and nuts….

anyway, i’m getting distracted… see how easy it is to get distracted when talking about sex. i don’t think it’s because sex is actually distracting, but because we don’t talk about it much, so when we do it becomes distracting. we don’t encounter it enough in our lives, in positive ways that is. i’m not saying that we aren’t having enough sex, though that could be true. but if i start talking about the sex i am having with someone, regardless of the kind of relationship i have with them, people get kind of awkward, and so do i. how much is too much sharing? why don’t we talk more about why we like certain experiences and what happens when we explore those more? what about when we come up next to a super old and socially shared fear and face it? question it? go deeper into what it is about and if that is the real fear, or if there is something deeper?i would like to think that my fears aren’t so simple, yet at the same time are more simple. do i really fear that the person i am with is going to leave me for someone else, or that i am being lied to and therefore can’t make more well-informed decisions about the relationship or the other options before me because i am being manipulated by lies and misinformation?or maybe i’m not really afraid of them leaving me, but of being alone. if i think of the alone aspect, well that doesn’t really work for me because alone is what i know it’s what i’m good at. so maybe i fear not being alone. the list could go on and on.

if we don’t have places we can talk about these things, well we just stay in really fucked up or confusing situations, accepting relationships that don’t really feed us, or allow us to truly nurture the ones we love, or to questions our social norms.

the person i’ve started this relationship with is polyamorous and wants to only be in open relationships. i knew this going into this because we have been friends long enough to know that she won’t be in another relationship that’s not. as her friend i wouldn’t ask her to do anything different. that being said, neither of us have ever really been in an open relationship. sure, i’ve “dated” more than one person at a time, but at some point we either decide to be exclusive or we move on. then there are the people i’ve dated that were in open relationships and i was the other person.

so what does this all mean, and why am i writing about it? i’m not so cheesy to think that love is the biggest adventure of them all. however, i think that the idea of love and how we love, what makes up a good solid relationship, who makes a good partner (especially consider the timing of “gay” marriage and all that bullshit), and how we define all this is one of the top social constructions we face regularly. as a queer person and a vegan with anarchist beliefs, i have a really hard time thinking of telling someone i love and care about, what they can or can’t do with their bodies, time, interactions…. i can say what i do or do not want in my life (sti, drama…)and make agreements about how we meet one another’s needs. what i am learning is that i really want to be with someone who knows who they are and what they want. that we have these lives we want to live and dreams we want to make real. who am i to stand in the way?!

i’ve never been in a relationship that had this level of communication without the kind of over processing that drives me crazy, or scripted language of liberal folks that have had too much therapy that they can’t speak directly any more. we still have a lot to learn and have made mistakes, but we are learning and laughing and loving.

in the mean time, i and we have been on all kinds of queer vegan adventures that i want to share, but and yet, this relationship has made me question what it is that i can or should share here. if it was just me, well i wouldn’t care. she has given me full clearance to share whatever i want. yet, what do you want to hear? do you want to know the amazing places we found in nature to explore, where there was no one else for days so we spent it naked in the car, in the tent, out of the enclosures, laid in the grass or meadow, in the water, on the sandy or rocky beach? do you want to know how much i am being stretched and pulled as a person, as a lover, as a friend, as a human being trying to relate and still be myself? how i am calling bullshit on myself? or do you want pretty pictures and thoughts about how we relate to the greater world?

what does it mean to be a complete human being with love and fear and dreams….

well now, that is what i call an adventure!

Clackamas again

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i don’t know why i started this hike thinking of death and dying and my own mortality. maybe it has something to do with trying to plan some challenging hikes out in the gorge. i really wanted to go up table mountain or mt. hamilton. but i just couldn’t  bring myself out to the gorge. in fact, i am often talking myself out of hikes in our spectacular columbia river gorge.

not all hikes are created equally. sometimes i go out for a solid workout. to get high on the adrenaline. to see if i can summit a 14,000 + pass or peak. to connect with nature, or some force. to see wildlife. to feel something besides my everyday stuff. to breathe clean air and drink clean water. to have a nice chat with a friend…. or an ancestor no longer of this world. today i was going out searching for some guidance, some logistics to my life that has few logistics… you know, kinda like getting my bearings and triangulating my inner compass. i’m not so much feeling lost as excited about what’s next.

so, as i considered some of the hikes on my list, i looked down the gorge and my initial thought was i can’t go down the columbia river. its a dead river. damn me!(pun intended) it is not a dead river. its close to being on life support, but its not dead. its in an abusive relationship with humans and it needs to escape. if i am going out searching for something, i can not go down the columbia; i leave sad, much like going to a zoo. the river is being held captive with damns and river barges and recreational water transportation devises. i’ll go when i can feed it; give to it. when friends are visiting and want to see waterfalls that define beauty and grandeur, or local friends want to go on a quick and wonderful get away. however, when i get a day to get out and be in the woods, to pick an adventure that inspires and guides me, i am more likely to choose the clackamas river or the salmon river or the sandy river…. i go up towards the mountain.

so this day, i went back to my go-to trail, the clackamas river trail, but i decided to start it from the end. so i meandered my way back into the woods and parked. changed into the “get wet get muddy cloths”. i was the only vehicle in the lot until a forest service truck pulled in. when they got out of their truck we had a little chat about how wonderful the day was to be working or walking. they told me they had cleared the trail just a couple of weeks ago, but couldn’t guarantee that it was still clear. its been windy and supposedly winter after all. i responded with something about the risks one takes when hiking in february. they nodded as we wished one another fun adventures… me with my little day pack and them with their ginormous chainsaw!

as i started out, my mind just cleared as i took in the day: the sound of the river below, the wind in the trees, the birds giving warning of an approaching human, the smell of forest, the shades of green and brown…. senses are on… lets walk.

it didn’t take long for me to get to the heart of what has been on my mind. i’m deep in the heart of menopause. i’m actually excited about this transition. being raised in amerika, i’ve been told how horrible it is to age, to grow old, that its not for the faint of heart…. blahblahblah! that is bullshit! this moment is for the adventurous! it is for those that don’t buy into any of that crap that our best years are behind us. that from now on it’s just pain and loss of dignity. agian. bullshit!

maybe i got super lucky. when i was young, my mom was in nursing school and took classes on death and dying. i learned about living wills probably before i knew what a regular who gets what when will. i knew that there were ways of dying that held the wishes of the person going through the process instead of the fears of the family members and friends feeling left behind. i haven’t been afraid of dying for as long as i can remember. i am afraid of being in an institution of any kind. in fact sometimes a university setting scares me almost as much as a church, hospital, mental health ward, etc, these days.

don’t misunderstand. i am not anxious to die. i am not suicidal. i am not excited to experience great amounts of pain, i don’t really want to drown or be burned alive. but being eaten by a bear or other animal doesn’t seem so bad, again, except for the pain… maybe i get knocked unconscious first. its no mistake i live in a right to die state (though i am confused on why this even needs to be a thing… don’t we all have as much of a right to die as we do to live? capitalism continues to confuse me)

so these are my thoughts as i enter this amazing forest and see these amazing little sprouts of dug fir trees growing out of stumps of old ones (death giving life), as i have to duck under the first fallen tree i come to.

then i circle back to my thoughts on menopause and what a great adventure it has been for me so far. well ok. not all of it has been great.

maybe 4 years ago, i realized i was in the periamenapuase stage. my emotions were all over the place. i was verbally fighting with the person i was dating at the time (i don’t typically fight in any fashion… usually just walk away), my energy was all kinds of erratic. i couldn’t sleep. i was a mess. i went to a naturopath who took some blood work (gave me a snoopy band-aid, yay), and we figured out what was going on. sweet! i had some answers and we had a game plan. i took a compound progesterone for 2 months to balance stuff out, a b-complex, iron, and adrenal support for being stressed the fuck out (i wasn’t the only one being emotional and challenging)!

about a year ago, i transitioned into full on menopause. hot flashes, missing periods (ok i don’t really miss them that much when they go away for several months at a time), changes in how much i bleed and the viscosity of it, my sleep patterns, my fluid levels of all kind, libido, and emotions (yes, it seems that i do have them from time to time). now, going into this moment of my life, i am channeling my grandmother. i can remember sitting in the living room, listening to my aunts complain about menopause, comparing what drugs they were taking and how horrible it was for them. my grandma walks through, and says something like, “i don’t know what you all are complaining about, in my day we just went through it.” there she was, true to form and to the point. its just another fact of life, and we just get through it…. kinda like puberty. a horribly awkward and embarrassing time, but  many of us got through it.

now i know it is different for everyone. my cycles were always fairly painless, quick, and easy compared to some people i know, and menopause hasn’t been that different for me. hot flashes? so far they don’t really last that long for me; 45 seconds? maybe a minute? sure i can feel it coming from the inside out, i break into a sweat, i kick all my covers off or unzip my hoodie, roll up my sleeves… then its over and slowly i do it all in reverse, or if i’m sleeping i get the sudden chill of a breeze on my sweaty back and quickly cover back up and the house cat is deeply confused. if i am sleeping with someone else, well the heat and sweat can be a plus or a challenge. i’ve also always run a little warm; maybe i’m just use to it.

so, i don’t feel any need to control these with pharmaceuticals. i cut back on how much coffee i drink, but only a little. i only drink it at like brunch or going out specifically for coffee. i don’t really drink it at home (unless it’s a brunch pot-luck). alcohol doesn’t seem to affect me too much in this realm so i haven’t changed that much.

my sleep patterns have always been erratic, so this is just something i keep an eye on anyway. if i need to stay up and ride the wave, i do it. if i need to call it a night early i do that too. up early? ok, here we go. its just about going with whatever i seem to need to do in the moment. it can be complicated if i am not the only one in the same bed, or working nights, but hey, i don’t really have to work that late, so really…. just pay attention and roll with it. i do wonder, and believe, that being vegan helps a great deal (as does being a physically active vegan). i don’t eat extra hormones that are in animal products. i don’t consume extra estrogen that throws things out of whack. of all the people i personally know going through this transition,i am the only vegan, and i am also have the easiest time of it. for at least 20 years, there is no extra estrogen built up in my fat cells… maybe i’ll talk about this more in a separate post. as for being active, i don’t belong to a gym. i bike for transportation, my job is physical, i go for an occasional run, and i love to walk around the city. being physically active does not have to mean hitting the gym 5 times a week. just keep moving and breathing heavy.

sex. that is a question i get asked a lot but not in so many words. do i have a favorite lube for dryness? how do i feed my libido. ok, well. i have always (ok not always, but as long as i have allowed myself, or more to the point, have fought for myself, the pleasure of embracing my sexual appetit) had a fairly healthy libido. i like sex. i like good healthy sex with other people who also like good healthy sex. i long ago stopped feeling bad about the number of sexual partners i’ve had, though people have tried to shame me for this. anyway, this isn’t about the past, it’s about the present. and the libido is as strong as ever, maybe stronger. as for lube, a nice water-base, vegan/no animal testing, maybe some aloe added… use what works for you. go to she bop, smitten kitten, etc. experiment with self or others.

we live in a culture that puts so many constraints on women. as women get older, there are even more ideas about what they are capable of. maybe they could run for president, or be on the supreme court… cool. but they are not sexual. not sexy. not adventurous. not physically active. not creative. i’m calling it… bullshit!

so as i walk next to this roaring winter river, full of life and death. full of clean water that i will drink when i stop. full of colors that fill my vision with ideas. full of these little birds that dive down deep and swim to feed and bathe. full of my feet feeling the smooth pebbles and rocks. i’m captured by the idea that we are what we need to be when we need to be where we need to be…. rivers are as wide as they need to be or as narrow to make it to their destination. they speed up or slow down as needed. deep or shallow. rolling waves that crash and break down boulders or lap gently at the sandy shore. there are times we need to roar, times to whisper, times to be silent. times to spin around in circles, times to spill over the banks, and times to dry up and go underground. but we never lose our life-giving ability to nourish and nurture.

i eventually stopped, had a happy hour snack on a boulder in the river. thought some thoughts. i even thought how nice it would be to have someone next to me who, well lets just say it would have been nice to explore someone’s deeper nature. see, even when i really lust after my alone time, i still acknowledge and celebrate wanting to share these moments with others.

as i walked back, i climbed over a fallen tree. walked under another, but the third was freshly cut. i walked right through the new passage with the dust of the tree mixed into the trail and the middle piece pushed down the way and rolled to the side. still visible still a part of the environment but just with a different perspective and slightly removed. i can relate.

Birthday Adventure

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so what is an adventure? many birthdays i’ve wanted to do some kind of adventure. sometimes a long weekend trip out-of-town, maybe to a place i’ve never been before, perhaps an old stomping ground to re-explore. sometimes it’s been a backpacking trip, or a hike on a familer trail. sometimes i embark on a new challenge for the year, or month, or whatever.

this year i went to visit friends in the bay area. well actually the goal was to go off and get lost by myself in the queer world of the bay, but that didn’t exactly happen…. i try to get a good amount of alone time, and many times on my adventures, i like to deepen my isolation from the rest of the world. it usually starts by getting myself to an airport or train station via public transport, but this is the 2nd time i let a friend drop me off at good ol’ pdx. the first time it was a friend that i was living with who basically drives by the airport on her way to work. she gently forced me into the car… i don’t know why i fought so much, but i think its like a loner badge of honor. this time, a friend offered and i didn’t really hesitate too much. what better way to be sent off on a journey then to have someone you really love and respect take you…. then i get to the airport, do all the things and head to my gate. i look up at the monitor, and hear “hey, kim, buddy!” and there is another close friend and their family. they are waiting at the gate next to mine! so we get a quick chat and baby giggles before they leave for their own adventures.

when i decided to fly into oakland vs. sfo, i contacted a friend of mine who lives in oakland to see if they wanted to grab a walk or some tea when i landed or before i took off. they did, so we took a lunch break together pretty much as soon as i got off the plane. i started my bart education of oakland and got a warm walk in to meet her. we got to have a 2 hour walk around an amazing old cemetery before i jumped back on bart to check into the hostel and meet another friend who lives in portland, but was passing through the bay at the same time. when she mentioned that we would be in the bay at the same time, i was like, “cool! let’s meet up for a drink”. we ended up spending the night together and didn’t part until after dinner the next day, when she headed off with her friend and i left with mine. however, when we were walking to pre-dinner pie…. i turn to tell my crew something, and hear “kim?” and it was one of my favorite food/drink talented friends that had recently move back to the bay from portland! jeez! THEN my friends and i are walking around the next day and get a text from the friend i spent the first night with, “i just ran into a friend of yours on bart!” what?! ….fast forward a few days, and it is now my final hours in the bay, and i am just now getting that time alone i thought i desperatly wanted. and by now i feel pretty comfortable in the places i’m at and where i want to go, that i don’t think i’ll get lost. i’m sure not going back into sf to walk around the castro to flirt with queers…. so i never got to do that…. well ok i did flirt some with people walking by, but ya know…. no real flirt time…. but i haven’t left yet…. what is my point?

well i guess its in thinking about what really is an adventure? it can be this epic multi-day/week/month/year thing like biking around the world, backpacking south america, doing the pct, taking a year challenge…. or it can be walking the same walk to work you do everyday, but with an openess and willingness to be curious and full of wonder. you know, to walk with all your senses awake…. do you hear the birds? notice the change in colors within the foliage? smell the different beans or hops the coffee roasters or beer brewery is using? who is making food and what kind? taste the moisture in the air? how different is today’s bike ride compared to yesterday’s? maybe you wake up and decide to just bike only using right hand turns… fall in love… or at least be open to the idea of loving someone, or harder yet for me, letting someone love you. being open enough to build and develop relationships with friends and those in your community. these adventures maybe the hardest ones for myself. to be vulnerable enough to build long-lasting relationships. i’ve always had really good friends, but it is hard for me to truly develop and nurture them to the place that i feel ok asking for help… or a ride to/from the airport. to relie on more than just myself. i find it much easier to trust the bear walking though the campsite than some young white dude walking down the street.i think maybe this is where intuition comes in. we can bare ourselves more when we trust ourselves and our ability to tap into our intuition. i can take more risks when i know this other sense of mine is being tapped into.

this trip was so amazing. i ended up with so many great offers and suggestions. i walked up and down the streets wondering where i was going to get coffee or a beer or dinner. i didn’t go to one place i found on the internet. i went to places friends or strangers told me about. i used paper maps as well as google. i read the signs for how to get around with bart. i got on the wrong train before i figured out the system (this suprising made be get off at fruitville station and if you know that story, you know why i had the chills as i waited). i stayed open to the possibility of new things and i made my decisions based on what i wanted in that moment: lay in the park until it got cold, stay where we are and have another beer and keep the conversations flowing, laugh until the sexual tension becomes to great then duct into the doorway until it builds to overflowing. pass up an opportunity no sane vegan would pass up because the now is so much greater than even the idea of the other. i was so very happy on this trip. not just for the constant sugar high i was on from places like timeless roasters and cinnaholic, nor from the copious amounts of vitamin-d, but because i just stayed open to all the things i love in my life, and coming to grips with the idea that i am truly and deeply loved by my friends and family. and maybe for one of the first times in my life, i feel capable to return it fully and without reservations. now that is an adventure!

so vegan

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“What, if not transformation, is your deepest purpose? Earth, my love, I want that too. Believe me, no more of your springtimes are needed to win me over-even one flower is more than enough. Before i was named I belonged to you. I seek no other law but yours, and know I can Trust the death you will bring.

See, I live. On what? Childhood and future are equally present. Sheer abundance of being floods my heart.” Rainer Maria Rilke from The Ninth Elegy

this is harder than i thought to write about. being vegan, maybe more than being queer, maybe more than being human, defines how i am in this world. guides me. the foundations of my ethics.

i listen to on being a great deal, and they begin their interviews with what, if any, was the person’s spiritual or religious background. maybe that is a good place to start….

my dad’s dad was a chaplain in the military. he came from a long line of country ministers in up state new york, as did my grandmother. he died when i was young, 1st or 2nd grade. the day my grandpa died, the reverend from the church i grew up going to with my other grandparents, came to the house to see how he and his wife could be of service to us. i think he was there before my dad was able to get home form work. to this day, i don’t know how he found out. 1975 (?) no cell phone/text/email/social media status update.

that reverend was the last organized religious “leader” i ever trusted and believed in. a few years later, many of the church’s elders got rid of him. seems he was inspiring too many young people. should i mention that he and his wife were from south america, had us over for dinner, told stories, laughed, shared wine, smelled of the earth…. it broke my heart to have them gone, not from the church (i’d stopped going) so much as from the community. they were run out of the town in search of work. i think i was told they returned to brazil.

i never felt “moved” or anything like that in church. i can deeply remember not understanding why god or jesus gave a care at all about what i wore to church, or even if i entered a particular building to give “worship”. in fact the sunrise services on easter seemed much more inspiring than any other time. anyway, i stopped going to church when i was around 11 or 12 unless it was some special service that i couldn’t get out of.

around that time was my first trip to the ocean. being in the sand, listening to the waves come in and out. my breath felt the rhythm it had been searching for. my blood pulsed and filled my body as if it were reaching out to connect to the force that keeps the planet alive. water has always done this to me. brings me to a level of aliveness that i rarely feel otherwise.

the town i grew up in had a river that i would go to often when i needed solace. when that wounded part of myself that i had no words, nor ability to comfort surfaced… that river and even the draining ditch in the field across the street, could bring a balm to my young struggles of which there were many.

the other side of town had a slaughter-house with the stench of death and violence to cows and humans. i was deeply aware of the abuse the brown folks brought up from mexico faced on a daily basis; held in a violent social exchange with our capitalistic society.

mix this with a large painting by a college friend of my parents that i could stare at for hours. a self portrait i was told, of a young black man behind some kind of bars, not prison bars (or at least in my mind it wasn’t), but bars like lattice-work, that prevented him from being fully participatory in the world. i can still see it perfectly in my mind.

to this day, with so much freedom to explore and dive deeply into this world, the beat of the drums from the pow-wows i grew up going to with other family members, stay with me all the time wherever i go and however i move. i hear those drums on hikes, swimming in the rivers, and standing in the ocean with the waves moving over my body.

what sticks with me the most in learning these lessons, is a phrase that just keeps repeating in my head… “do no harm”. the more i learn about this life i live in this place that i live in this culture i am a part of… it’s violence depends on consuming. food, beverages, oil, trees, people, land, water….. all the “natural resources” are manipulated and destroyed for profit. then there is the kind of consuming that involves the media: news, t.v., radio, movies, social contexts that bring us racism, homophobia, sexism, speciesism, hierarchical structures that tell us where our place is currently and where we should be if we are going to be “succesful” in this culture. all of this is consumed, digested, and what is excreted is how we move through the world and make decisions.

as my movements move out of the city more, and into the mountains, the woods, the tall grass prairie, the ocean, rivers, interactions with wild animals as well as the domesticated ones, i want to be able to look at them with calm eyes and a steady heart.

it is a messy world and i want to do my very best to understand how i contribute to the messes, only then can i understand how to be a part of cleaning them up.

every vegan i know has their vegan coming out story and this is mine. i know i haven’t talked at all about not eating meat. the secrets of giving up dairy. the story of how i couldn’t eat animals after looking into the eyes of my childhood dog. all the tractor-trailers full of cows we passed on the interstate – the look in  those cows in the eyes…. all the horrifying statistics about animal abuse, neglect, water usage, disease, contamination, health issues involved in eating animals and the by-products. sure, all that contributes to how and what decisions i make, but they are not why i am vegan.

vegan is an ethic. its way of moving through the world. of how to disseminate information and make a decision that is less violent less exploitative less hypocritical… vegan is harm reduction for the planet, people, plants, water, and yes animals.

so here is my vegan coming out story. it’s not a story of how i want to be a perfect human being absent of mistakes. that is just not possible. we all have a level of complacency. none of us can live in this modern western world without committing some kind of violent act. i just don’t want to fool myself into thinking its all ok. i want to live with a greater awareness of the impact of the decisions and choices i make. i want those choices to have less violence and more compassion, hopefully some empathy for the well-being of all beings. and i want to bring that awareness into the relationships i have with people, lovers, animals, the land/water/air, who i buy from and do business with….how i give and share what i do have.

so there you have it. the 2 lenses i will use in writing about the adventures i take. i hope you enjoy them and it inspires you to take some, and  perhaps, reflect on how you got to the place you are today. what inspires you to make the choices you make.