Defeating the Dragon

This is a story of plants, and of people, and a dragon, and how the magic powers in the first can be used by the second to defeat the third.

The dragon is a shape-shifter, taking on many clever disguises to hide his true intent.  We have all met him; some of us consciously, others through uneasy stirrings as he creeps along the dark passageways of our subconscious minds.  But enough of him for now.  First we need to delve into the plant world and gain a foothold there before facing the beast.  So, let us begin.

When we eat, we absorb macronutrients in the form of carbohydrates, fats and proteins, and mironutrients (vitamins and minerals).  Plant foods also contain hundreds of chemicals with fancy names which have profound effects on the body, mind and spirit.

If we look even deeper into a plant's composition, beyond the physical constituents, we come to its etheric energy or life force.  Plants are not intelligent in the way humans are, but they are living beings that communicate with each other and with the entire cosmos including soil, bacteria, fungi, viruses, insects, animals and humans, the sun, the moon, planets, constellations of stars, and probably many other subtle energies we know nothing about.  This continuous interplay is what makes magic happen.  All the stimuli absorbed by the plants is refined and transformed into powerful elixirs such as essential oils, antioxidants and polyphenols which can enliven our minds, bodies and spirit.  The more we use and consume these power plants, the more we feel their effects.

What are signs of a plant's power and intelligence?  Thorns, odors, sticky sap, downy or prickly leaves and bright pigments give us clues.  Wild plants growing in their natural habitat have the most power.  Next are domesticated plants grown naturally without chemical fertilizers or pesticides.

Now picture this:  a hydroponic tomato growing in a tube of liquid in a carefully controlled indoor environment, sucking up ready-made, perfectly balanced nutrient formulas and chemicals to control pests and diseases.  This is not an intelligent plant.  It's a couch-potato tomato, with no reason to exert itself to find and synthesize what it needs from the environment.

At the other extreme, we can study the Mediterranean rock rose, Cistus incanus, which grows in abundance on Sardinia, off the coast of Italy.

This little shrub survives and thrives under extremely harsh conditions, enduring severe drought, poor soil, high temperatures and sun exposure.  Cistus has developed a symbiotic relationship with a fungus that helps its roots absorb water and minerals from the soil and fights off other fungi.  This plant has the highest polyphenol content of any plant in Europe and is proving to be a powerful remedy for many serious conditions such as Lyme disease, cancer, retroviruses and more.

Thorns, sap and prickles may not sound appetizing to you, but you might be surprised at the deliciousness of gently steamed or simmered nettle leaves (heating destroys the sting) with lemon juice, salt, pepper and olive oil.  We need to educate our palates.  We need to be courageous.  The body knows what it needs to be healthy, and you will be rewarded for eating intelligent foods instead of overly processed fare made palatable with large amounts of sugar, salt and addictive chemicals.  You will begin to crave the bitter greens, the enlivening herbs and spices and the strong wild flavors, so rich and complex on the tongue.

This is not to say we should not eat plain, bland fare as well.  Too much of anything is not healthy.  We need balance in the diet; we need soft and gentle potatoes, mellow grains, the delicate flavors of cucumber and squash.

You may say that you are too old to make changes; too sick, too busy, too distracted.  You may say that it's too late to save the world, and what can one person do anyway?  But this is the dragon talking, and these are the very reasons we should eat better and live more consciously.  You may say you can't afford good food.  Then I say go out into your backyard and pick the chickweed and plantain, the nettle if you've got it, and eat those.  Dig the dandelion and burdock roots and eat them.  These foods will do you more good than anything you can buy at the store.

Diet alone is not enough to make us into strong, resilient warriors, but it is the foundation and the starting point of a healthy life.  Without proper nourishment we will never progress, never have the strength to overcome the dragon.  He has been called by different names in different times and cultures, but the important thing to remember is that he wants us to be sleepy so we don't clearly see what's happening in the world.  He wants us distracted by ever increasing towers of facts and data coming to us at lightning speed; more and more and more information that leaves us anxious, weary and confused.  He wants us to not think for ourselves so he can slyly insert his own thoughts into us while making us believe they are our own.  He wants our hearts to be disengaged from our minds, so what we think is dry and dusty, without the warmth and fire of human enthusiasm.  He wants us to be separated into smaller and smaller groups, sects, religions and factions, each one pitted against the other.  Knowledge of his true nature is our weapon against him, and our will, fueled by a strong and healthy body, is our sword.

We eat to bring will forces into our limbs, enthusiasm into our hearts and clarity to our thoughts so we can become warriors for the good, the true and the beautiful.  We eat for our children, and our childrens' children, and for all the children to come into times more distant than we can imagine, because the future depends on the present.  We eat for those who have passed on before us, for they are as vital a part of the earth as those now in the flesh.  We eat so that one day the earth might become a bright and shining star radiating wisdom and love into the universe, instead of a darkened globe of misery and woe.  We eat in communion with each other and with all the kingdoms on earth and in the heavens, that we might truly become one.

Murder in the Garden, Redemption on the Wind

I wonder how many vegetarians and vegans who prefer a kinder, gentler diet realize how much killing is required to provide them with fruits and vegetables.

Gardens are five star restaurants for hungry creatures.  Deer, raccoons, armadillos, rabbits, birds, woodchucks, squirrels, chipmunks, mice and rats, foxes, possums, skunks, and in some places, wild hogs, all want their share.  If left alone, they will take it.

Varmints are canny, sly, relentless and brazen, possessing senses and instincts far superior to our own.  Intellect is no match for them.  Fences don't stop them, save for perhaps the deer.  Repellents are worthless.  Live traps may seem like a humane solution, but they're not.  Animals turned loose in unfamiliar territory often perish because they don't know where to find food or water or shelter, and must contend not only with predators, but with those of their own kind who drive them off.

In the garden, every species has its own modus operandi.  Raccoons break fruit canes to reach the berries.  They are excellent climbers and can strip a peach or pear tree in one night.  Armadillos love to dig in soft, moist garden dirt, exposing plant roots so they wilt and die.  Cotton rats tunnel under the soil, eating roots as they go; rabbits eat the tops, woodchucks eat everything.  Squirrels pick green tomatoes, take one bite and move on to the next one.

So - we are left with guns and traps.  All summer long the crack of the gun is an integral part of the nighttime symphony, adding a staccato note to the drone of cicadas, the rasping katydids and hooting owls and the soaring soprano coyotes.  Needless to say, hours of sleep are lost.  It is mostly raccoons and armadillos that fall under the gun, and an occasional woodchuck, rabbit or squirrel that won't be deterred any other way.  Mice and rats are trapped if they infiltrate the hoop house.  Foxes we do not kill, even though they can and do sneak under the fence and nab your favorite hen (it's always your favorite) in broad daylight, right under your nose, leaving only a pile of feathers and outrage that poor Sadie had to die in such a dreadful way.  Foxes will also eat fallen fruit, but they do a good job of keeping the rodent population in check, so we leave them alone.

It doesn't feel right, all this killing.  But what are the alternatives?  We can get in our cars and drive to the supermarket, peruse the aisles of brightly colored produce, so perfect and blemish free, so benign, so good for us, and not think about what went into growing it.  We can virtuously buy meat alternatives in attractive plastic containers, made mainly of wheat, corn and soy grown on vast tracts of land maintained by huge diesel machines that kill and maim thousands of ground nesting birds and animals, often spraying chemicals that sicken everything including the farm workers.  There are vegan cookies and breads and ice cream; highly processed treats made from the ubiquitous corn, soy, oats, wheat, vegetable oils  and sugar in its various forms.  If you eat eggs, there are eggs from "free-range, contented hens fed a 100% vegetarian diet".  What?  Do they instruct their chickens to not eat any insects, reptiles or rodents while they are free-ranging?

I took a road trip not long ago from Missouri to Ohio and was shocked to see nothing but field after field of corn and soybeans.  Almost no pastures with grazing cows, or hay fields, or farm ponds with red wing blackbirds perched in the cattails.  Is this healthy?

Diversity equals health, we are told.  Nutrition experts advocate eating at least 40 different plant foods per week, avoiding antibiotics unless absolutely necessary, not using antibacterial soaps so that our microbime - the type and amount of microbes inhabiting every part of our body - is as diverse as possible.  This gives us a healthy, robust immune system.

Can we not see the earth as having its own microbiome, made up of humans, plants, animals and minerals, all adding to the health and well being of its inhabitants?  The same holds true for a farm.  I know of some vegans who believe we should do away with all domesticated animals, and this makes me sad, because it illustrates how divorced we've become from nature.

 A farm takes cooperation and sacrifice from all that dwell there.  The sun and the stars pour down their sacrificial light, which is taken up by the plants, who sacrifice themselves to the animals and to us.  The animals, in turn, give us sustenance and manure for compost which feeds the plants.  We humans are the intermediaries between the inspirations streaming down to us from the starry heavens and the teaming life force rising from below.  Through the sweat of our brow and our creative ideas we harmonize (or try to) all the raw materials:  soil, water, air, light, minerals, plants and animals into a farm that breathes and fluctuates with the rhythms of nature.  Our labor and our thoughts, which we send back upwards, are nourishment for the heavenly world, making the circle of sacrifice complete.

It's easy to lose sight of all this holy interplay when it's 98 degrees with no rain in sight, the armadillos are wreaking havoc in the blueberry patch and must be dealt with, everything needs weeding and mowing and watering, you're achy and tired to the bone and wondering what possessed you to pursue gardening as a livelihood.

But then there are misty mornings, or mellow afternoons, when the wood thrush flutes his liquid notes through the trees, the rooster is clucking excitedly over a worm he has found, the steers are grazing contentedly in the pasture, and you, with your hands in the good brown earth, the sun on your back and the scented, sentient air in your lungs, feel the rightness of what you are doing.  For a moment the inner loneliness that is the lot of all human beings melts away and you are enveloped in the Oneness, surrounded by the infinite love that is the heartbeat of creation.

Being a vegetarian is a noble thing.  It's never noble to kill, but one hopes that by providing quality food to hungry people, the killing is justified.  Truthfully, we are all destroyers of life in one way or another.  We can remove ourselves as far as possible from the unpleasantness, but someone has to pull the trigger.  We need to remember that, and respect and honor each other's choices.