This weekend, I crossed a threshold.
I went into the woods with a gun. I went into the woods with the intent to kill another living being to harvest it’s meat to feed my family.
Sounds kinda of cryptic, but that’s exactly what happens daily inside butcheries and grocery stores, it just looks different. We’re separate and insulated from the reality of our food. I’m trying to fix that in myself. In the same way that tomatoes just taste better when they’re from your garden, I imagine wild meat to have the same impact.
Too often, I think we’re wrapped up in the ethical considerations of whether hunting should be allowed. Further, I think we’re so wrapped up in it, we forget where our food comes from. Without linking you to videos of factory farms, I assure you that the pretty pink pork chops are not created like that. They came from a living, breathing, thinking, feeling pig.
I’ve heard the term ‘monkey brain’ thrown around, most often by my favourite podcast host, Joe Rogan. He refers to this hidden, locked away part of ourselves that drives our actions toward sex and violence, greed and lust. That part of ourselves that is distinctly animal.
This weekend, I had a small taste of that part of my brain that is, like it or not, hard wired to kill and eat wild beasts. We can add all the sugar we want on top of the definition, but when it comes right down to it, “life eats life”, as Joe so often says.
I’ll document as much as I can of my adventures this month, during turkey season. Until my next post, hopefully with a picture of a dead turkey, keep in mind – your ham and swiss sandwich from Tim Hortons isn’t just a lunch menu item, it came from a thing. It came from a living thing that could experience fear, comfort and relaxation. That’s real, just as real as life and death itself.