With the beginning of a new year it seems appropriate to take stock of my substack, look at what I’ve done so far and sketch out its future direction. Also, this is a good opportunity to thank my subscribers — your friendly comments keep me going. Plus, I want to share some pictures of the scenic beauty where I live; I believe it has shaped who I am and what I feel and think.
My initial plan was to write about everything related to being vegan. After I stopped consuming all dairy products in 2001 my kinship with animals deepened considerably. I internalized that they feel joy and pain, just like humans. They have family relationships, just like humans. They grieve for those close and dear to them, just like humans.
I had become vegetarian because it felt fundamentally wrong to kill a living being. But it was a somewhat abstract feeling. Taking her milk didn’t kill a cow, right? Nothing wrong with dairy, so I thought. I didn’t know that cows give milk only after they give birth to a baby. I didn’t know that the baby is taken away from the mom right after birth. How cruel is that! Like all mothers, the cow is in agony because of the loss of her calf. And I didn’t know that Mama Cow would soon be artificially inseminated so that it starts all over again. And while I knew of course that people eat veal, I didn’t really know what exactly happens to the calf. It’s not pretty, let me tell you.
So, being vegan wasn’t a thing in and of itself but became something almost secondary, a consequence. A result of caring about animals, about the environment, about climate change. If you’re serious about these topics, you’ll stay away from eating animals and dairy.
And from there it felt natural and necessary to connect with plants and trees and forests as well, to participate in and be part of this intricate web of beings, entities, creatures large and small. Scientists have confirmed that trees in forests communicate, utilizing the vast kingdom of fungi which is still quite unexplored: of the estimated 2.2 million to 3.8 million species only about 148,000 have been explored.1 Actually, not only trees but almost all plants form a symbiotic relationship with fungi via a mycorrhizal network which enables communication and nutrient transfer.
Such connectedness deserves to be celebrated, I feel; and we humans shouldn’t stand apart and observe from the outside. Instead we should realize that we’re very much part of this connecting network. We live in a world of relationships, not of “things”. Unfortunately, that’s not how we perceive the world. I find myself surrounded by a multiplicity of objects, each one discrete and separate, each one with a name that I can name. This multiplicity of objects includes living beings, they’re also objects that I can perceive and name. I, the subject, am smack in the middle, in the center, of the multitude of objects around me. All the stuff and things and beings that are “not me”. Also, I assume that I perceive an objectively real world, because all of us humans more or less agree on our perceptions.
When I state that I’m holding a red apple in my hand, other humans readily agree that the apple is red (unless they’re colorblind, but that’s an exception). However, this same red apple that I’m holding would appear entirely different to my dog. While people can identify three color combinations (red, blue, and green), dogs can differentiate only two, yellow and green. So, no “red” apple. And would he be able to name an “apple”, a fruit that grows on trees and that’s juicy and quite sweet? Probably not. But his nose tells him much more about this thing than what I perceive: maybe he can smell how ripe it is, maybe he can smell that there’s a worm inside, maybe he can smell how many other people have touched it. Which perception is objectively real? Clearly, both human and dog perceive only a part of the thing, they perceive that which gives meaning, that which they can relate to other perceptions of the world around them.
Every creature forms this coherent view of the world around them, which makes this world real and reliable. This is an activity, an active participation, not the passive view of something objectively real. And this is what I want to explore with my Substack: how we humans can become more aware of the fact that we are part of numerous other creature’s worlds. How their worlds have intrinsic value. How we should be guardians of their worlds and protect them rather than exploit them. How our worlds overlap and are not separate.
This means that I will write about topics related to a vegan lifestyle and share simple vegan recipes every once in a while, but also about issues connected with animal well being and animal rights, about trees talking to each other, about interspecies communication, about books such as Suzanne Simard’s Finding the Mother Tree, or Ed Yongs’s An Immense World. Occasionally, I will share adventures from my personal journey: I’ve literally traveled around the world (albeit only in the northern hemisphere), and because my finances were always rather limited, I’ve encountered many unexpected exciting events.
For those of my readers who have joined fairly recently, I want to share the links to a few earlier pieces that explain my views in more detail:
So, What About This "Connectedness"? A more philosophical look at the way we perceive the world.
You Don't Know How It Feels To Be Me: Non-human animals are feeling, autonomous beings.
The Entangled Connections Under Our Feet: About the way trees communicate.
YUCK -- A Spider! A Snake! A Bat! How certain creatures evoke intense antipathy, and how that limits and diminishes our worldview.
This Little Piggy Went to the Market: The deplorable conditions at factory farms, ag-gag laws, and eco-terrorist legislation.
Is there any particular topic you’d want me to write about? Please leave a comment.