October 1 is World Vegetarian Day

…and I am trying to limit the number of vegetarian posts I do on this blog, but I’ll write one on this “official” vegetarian day.  The question is:  vegetarians and non-vegetarians living together — can we all just get along?  But first, I’ll quickly tackle the issue of whether Buddhists “have to be” vegetarians.

Let’s get this out of the way, right away, for those who are still curious about this:  not all Buddhists are vegetarians, nor do all Buddhists have to be vegetarians.  There’s a Tibetan teacher in the city where I used to live who, like many Tibetans, ate meat.  “Pull a carrot from the ground,” he’d say, pointing out how impossible the precept of not killing is to follow to the letter, “and you are destroying countless organisms.”  He didn’t eat a lot of meat – he’d have turkey at Thanksgiving and occasional meat during the week, from what I heard, but there were some students in the area who would not have him as a teacher because of this singular issue.

Traditionally, whether or not Buddhists eat meat has been a cultural issue.  In Japan fish was often eaten, and of course, in a harsh northern climate like Tibet, eating meat was necessary for survival.  The Buddha told his monks to take what was offered, meat included, unless the animal had been killed specifically for them.  There were also some animals that the monks were forbidden to eat ¹.

But I’m not living a life of begging.  I have access to such plenty that I can eat a highly nutritious diet (if I choose, when those turtle brownie bars – I assure you, they don’t include any real turtles – aren’t calling to me) without needing to eat any meat.  I am a vegetarian.  I feel strongly that the precept of not killing and concern for the suffering of other beings (both from slaughtering, and from factory farming), suggests a vegetarian diet.  And yet, I have had such difficulty in my life in converting to a meat-free diet.  Mostly, this has been because of the conflict my vegetarianism has caused me to have with the people around me – both in my family of origin and in my marriage, and my own difficulty dealing with this conflict.  I (generally) have not been preachy about my vegetarianism, but I have sometimes found that eating vegetarian has sometimes put me at odds with the people I live with.

My first foray into vegetarianism was in middle or high school, when the idea first popped into my head that if I wouldn’t be comfortable going out and killing an animal myself, I shouldn’t expect someone else to do it for me, nor should I eat the animal.  I remember considering whether I should go out and try hunting to see if I could do it ² – and then realizing that I could never do this.  I declared myself vegetarian and got a copy of some macrobiotic cookbooks and Diet for a Small Planet.  I tried a few recipes with stuff we had around the house – and found them disgusting.  And then I found that my parents were not willing to buy me the special ingredients I thought I needed to accommodate a vegetarian diet.  Our meals were based on family-sized casseroles (generally full of meat) and I was to eat what was provided or buy my own.  As I had little to not income, I ate what I was provided and my vegetarianism lapsed quickly.

I moved out for a while in college, and became vegetarian, though I was living on poor college student fare — Top Ramen and Kraft mac and cheese.  At some point, maybe when I had access to more of a variety of foods, I stopped, craving that big hamburger…even though I knew where it came from.

Then I got married.  Fairly young.  And I decided to, again, start eating a vegetarian diet.  And again, conflict ensued.

This is from passiveagressivenotes.com . I'm vegetarian, but still find this funny, though I understand the reasons why vegetarians might need a support group, while carivores don't!

My husband has many wonderful qualities and is a model husband in many ways.  He probably does more than 50% of the household chores so I can manage working, chauffeuring the kids around, sitting zazen, go to yoga class and do things like writing this blog.  He says, “I love you,” more than once a day – every day.  He’s involved with the kids, has a great sense of humor…the list goes on.

But the mealtimes…Ugh!

The vegetarian dishes I made  were evaluated as “side dishes”  — after all, “everyone” knows that “real” meals include a meat portion!  Look at the food pyramid!  He would get up from the table, discard what I had cooked, and turn on the grill to cook up a big steak.  I also felt that a big side order of anger was being cooked up along with that steak and being served to me as a “side dish.”   He seemed angry that I wasn’t buying him meat, that I wasn’t cooking him meat, “I’m not asking you not to be a vegetarian,” he’d say, “but don’t expect me to become one.”  “I’m not trying to force you into becoming a vegetarian,” I’d counter, “but if I’m uncomfortable with eating meat, doesn’t it follow that I shouldn’t be buying and cooking meat?”  Both of us trying to defend our own sides.  No winners here.

The mealtime arguments finally became too much for me.  I caved.  I gave up, started cooking (and eating) those French Dip sandwiches and buffalo wings, served up with an unhealthy amount of excuses for my not sticking with my own sense of ethics on this issue, among them:

• I don’t feel right unless I have some meat in my diet.
• When I eat vegetarian, all my “special” products add too much to our grocery bill.
• I’m being unkind by not cooking him meat.  I’m being selfish.  If I was a “good wife,” I’d do this for him.
• He says that people will always eat meat – what difference will my vegetarianism make?

Let me counter these excuses right now:

• I am vegetarian and feel just fine…though I did have some trouble during the short time I was vegan, and now do eat eggs and milk.
• My “special” products are actually called…FOOD!  There is nothing “special” about my tofu, meat substitutes to use in recipes, or extra veggies.
• Is there something selfish about not wanting to contribute to killing animals? I still, occasionally, “selfish” trip myself on this.  Am I being rigid, controlling, by refusing to buy or cook what my hubby will buy and cook, anyway?    Or is he being selfish for not respecting my choices by getting angry when I don’t buy or cook meat?  Or are we both being selfish? Or am I just “clinging to views” too much?  Am I over-analyzing this like I tend to over-analyze everything?  The questions continue…
• Maybe my vegetarianism will only make a small impact on the world.  But if I am vegetarian, I am one more person not eating meat.  My mom used to read a picture book to me when I was a kid called, “If Everybody Did.”  I haven’t seen the book since I was very small (though it looks like there’s a newer edition around now) and I can’t remember specifics, but it must have made a big impact on me because I kept going back to it when confronted with moral choices during my childhood…and sometimes during my adulthood.  It would, for instance, show one person littering…no big deal, right?…and then say, “…but if everyone did…” and show what would happen if everyone had that same attitude and tossed their litter everywhere.  Supply and demand.  If fewer and fewer people eat meat, goes my reasoning, the fewer and fewer factory farms there will need to be, the fewer animals will be killed.

On top of the serving of excuses was, additionally, a simmering stew of resentment.  Because I knew I was lying to myself, wasn’t following my heart.  What did Shunryu Suzuki say about fooling yourself?  It’s fatal?  “No more medicine!”  I was fooling myself.  These were just excuses for not doing what felt right to me.  I also found that my husband liked my meat cookery about as much as he liked my vegetarian cooking, and continued to cook his own stuff instead of coming to the dinner table.  The steak was overdone.  The chicken was chewy.  I swear I did not do this on passive-aggressive purpose.  Really.

“I am not keeping you from being vegetarian,” he said again…and I realized he was right.

The only person keeping me from it was me.  I was the only one with responsibility for my own behavior, my own choices, regardless of the opinions of people around me about my choices.

So I finally converted back.  Conflicts still arise, but I think I do have some perspective on what committed vegetarians and committed non-vegetarians have to do do live in harmony. Some suggestions:

The Non-Vegetarian:

• Though many people adopt a vegetarian diet for health reasons, most of the vegetarians I have met have ethical issues with killing animals ³.  Some may have a disgust for handling and cooking meat.  Don’t expect your vegetarian to abandon what he/she feels is right to serve your dietary tastes.  If you want to eat meat and haven’t learned to cook, learn some cooking skills.  But no guilt trips.
  

  No Brontosaurus Burgers for You!

• Assess your vegetarian’s sense of humor.  She may not think it is funny when you grunt like a caveman and beat your chest and say things like “I man! Need MEAT!” or make jokes about your Brontosaurus ribs ⁴. Then again, she might laugh and give it right back to you ⁵.
• Don’t tease your vegetarian for what he/she cooks.  Don’t look at every meal, call it a “side dish” and suggest that it would be really, really, good if only it had..say…steak or some pork fat.

The Vegetarian:

• Don’t lecture your non-vegetarian all the time.  He or she likely knows all the arguments for vegetarianism – has heard them before – and will get tired of hearing them again and again.  Don’t suggest that he or she does not care about animals or about the world…likely your omnivore does not agree that eating animals is wrong or harmful.  Have you ever been annoyed by a proselytizer? Imagine living with one!
• Don’t insult your omnivore at mealtimes.  Don’t make faces at that big steak, and make incessant comments about dead animal flesh while he/she is eating.  Don’t sit around and ask your omnivore questions like, “What about Fido?  Would you eat him?  He’s an animal!!!” ⁶.

Both:

• Do try to eat meals together, at least sometimes, and especially if you have kids.  I’d like to more often, but it’s difficult with varying schedules and when everyone wants to eat something different.  But I think having meals together is a family bonding experience, and I’ve been sad that we often can’t seem to eat together because of different schedules, meal times, and preferences (and other issues over cooking and cleaning styles I won’t go into here).
• Don’t bad-mouth your partner or spouse’s dietary habits to your kids.  Do let them know why you make the choices you make.
• Discussions are good.  Just approach discussions with a mutual sense of respect for the other’s opinion and be open to listening.  So often we get so fixed on our opinions that we render ourselves unable to really listen.  In my case, we’re still working on this…but my spouse has quit requesting that I buy or cook him meat.  I’ve put aside (most of) my hurt feelings when he refuses to even try my latest vegetarian experiment (many of them very good and giving me a new joy in cooking that I haven’t had for a long time).  I try not to lecture, and he tries not to get grouchy at the latest tofu-seitan-gardein thing.  But we’re doing better and I think are proving that vegetarians and non-vegetarians can live in (relative) harmony.