If Plants Are Conscious, What Happens When We Eat Them?

Not too long ago The New York Times ran an article, Sedate a Plant, and It Seems to Lose Consciousness. Is It Conscious? The new evidence that plants have a type of “conscious,” joins a host of other research indicating that plants are intelligent, understand where they are in space, respond to threats and obstacles, and communicate with each other. We’ve known for years that plants grow faster and lusher when you play the right music or speak nicely to them, but now there is evidence that plants form memories. Does that mean they remember that you were kind to them? And what does it mean now to eat them? What, if any, are the moral or ethical implications?

Just to be clear, I’m pretty sure that we have to eat something, so I’m not advocating for fasting or breatharianism (the belief that one can survive on sunlight and fresh air – and yes, this is real).  As an 80-90% vegetarian I’m already big on a plant based diet, and debating making the jump to full time veggie.  Furthermore, what started as a simple recognition that I feel better when I eat less meat and more plants, has begun to take on ideological overtones as more is uncovered about the horrendous abuses in the meat industry. It is no longer possible to ignore the glaring cost of what we put on our plates in terms of animal suffering, environmental damage, and waste of resources.  Continuing to support any part of this system with my food dollars has become untenable.

I think that in an ideal world there is a way to “ethically” eat an animal. Perhaps a Native American or indigenous rite of recognizing, honoring, asking permission and thanking the spirit of the animal before slaughter would come close. Eating nothing but what one has hunted oneself would likewise add a mindfulness to the process that is lacking now.  My question today is, do plants deserve the same “soul” recognition and mindfulness in their handling and consumption?

I suspect the answer is yes. And while I’ve never been a big one for saying grace before meals, I have for years thanked the plants that I am dicing, chopping, sauteing, etc., for their nutrients and sacrifice on my behalf. I feel bad for unused food in a way that I didn’t before – now it’s not just a question of wasted money, but a needless sacrifice of an energy that was prepared to nourish me, if I had remained mindful. Thinking this way also means that I am more mindful of portion size and not being greedy, which may also explain why I feel and look better when I eat this way. And for that, I give thanks, too.

 


Turning My Deck into Paradise

| by Cheryl Shainmark

It’s that time of the year again, when I start to fantasize about sitting out on my deck, surrounded by plants and cats, sipping a cold drink and enjoying a warm breeze.  I usually get into decorating my little outdoor space, but this year I plan to really do it up: more plants, more herbs, nicer cushions, fairy lights, and candles. Have I missed anything?

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The Buddhist Soul in Me

| by Cheryl Shainmark

I am many things, but I am not a Buddhist. Still, every so often the secret Buddhist in my soul demands to be fed: lighting a little incense, placing a flower in a bowl like an offering, sweeping a spider out the door (instead of squishing it), or taking a day trip to the Chuang Yen Monastery in Carmel, NY.

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A Few Thoughts About Thinking

| by Cheryl Shainmark

I recently finished reading “Anathem” by Neal Stephenson, for the second time, (not something I usually do) and I was struck by an offhand observation that the young main character makes about another man who may be hundreds of years old. At one point, the old man is chanting and holds the same note for hours, (clearly some kind of re-breathing technique), and the young man ponders what it’s like to have such a different notion of time that you would want to chant the same note for hours. Then he has the insight that a mind that has done that probably has very different thoughts from a mind that hasn’t.

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Show Your Rainbow Colors for June

It’s June again, when the days get longer and the gardens are blooming. It’s a time for sunshine, BBQ, and, for many in the US, a time to march with pride in their local LGBTQ parade. The last Sunday in June was initially celebrated as ‘Gay Pride Day,’ but in major cities across the nation the ‘day’ soon grew to encompass a month-long series of events.

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Love Yourself Like Your Life Depends On It

| by Cheryl Shainmark

I just finished reading “Love Yourself Like Your Life Depends on It,” by Kamal Ravikant. I have to say that this slim volume completely jumpstarted a whole new spiritual practice for me. I don’t usually rave (in print, at least)… but this is one of the most accessible, transformative books I have ever read — and at 57 pages, you’d have to be in a coma not to get through it. Actually, if you are in a coma I will come and sit by your side and read it to you, because I want “Love Yourself” to be the earworm that gets stuck in your head. You’ll thank me later.

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Visions of the Future

| by Cheryl Shainmark

Several years ago I had a vision of the future that transformed my life and helped me to determine what new career path to pursue. Leading into that moment was the fact that, at the age of 40, after years of working in computers, I was back at school. I was an adult returnee in my “senior” year at college and my three most favorite professors had each approached me about entering into their field of expertise: Asian Studies, the School of Journalism, and Psychology. What a wonderful compliment! — each thought that I would excel in their profession and offered me mentoring, contacts and references for further graduate work. I was both flattered and immobilized with indecision

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Ghosts in the Genes: Cellular Memory

| by Cheryl Shainmark

We’re having good friends over for dinner in a few weeks and my friend and I are discussing what to serve: I’m thinking Italian and I tell him that I want to try my hand at making homemade pasta. A few minutes later, after proposing and rejecting various menu items, I close my eyes to organize my thoughts and it happens — I see my hands as clear as day making pasta in front of me. In reality, one hand is holding a cup of coffee and the other is resting on my lap — but in my minds-eye I can feel the smooth dough against my fingers as I roll little orrechiete “ears” over my thumb….

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The Voice of Your Higher Self

| by Cheryl Shainmark

I learned over time that this is the sound of my higher self. Sometimes it’s barely there in the background, pointing me in the right direction with a nudge or a song lyric, or a bit of humor and love. Other times she comes through loud and clear with precise instructions or suggestions. No topic is too large or too small to engage my higher self, and the range of comments over the years have both startled and amused me.

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Are We There Yet?

| by Cheryl Shainmark

Ok, I have to say it: I’ve about had it with this whole pandemic thing. This week will mark five months since we went into lock down, and, for me at least, this whole “hunkering down” zeitgeist is getting old. Lately, it seems the extended sleep-over, roughing it at camp, take one for the team mood has gotten depressing. I miss the early lock down days, when we could distract ourselves with laying in dried beans, hoarding toilet paper, or judging our colleague’s home work space on Zoom conferences. Even the threat of murder hornets provided a good laugh, in a what next? sort of way.

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