Cain vs Abel

I grew up loving trees. That’s why I’m not a vegetarian. While some people think I have Druidic tendencies, I’m not willing to sacrifice myself for a plant.

I understand people becoming vegetarian, even vegan, for health reasons. I’ve even tried it, but I felt like I was starving. Over the years, I’ve found what works best for me. I eat meat when I’m hungry for meat, and I eat vegetables the rest of the time.

What I don’t eat is sugar or wheat. Unless I’ve had a bad day. Then, I will eat Oreos, a sugar and wheat combination that has my number. Dipped in low fat milk until the chocolate cookie is soft and the creamy center is still firm, this classic cookie is a mini vacation from the slings and arrows of reality.

Until the guilt sets in. Why can’t I remember what it feels like after the Oreo indulgence before I’ve indulged? I’ve tried to conjure that “Oh, why did I eat that?” feeling before succumbing to the siren call of cookies and milk, but thinking a feeling and feeling a feeling just aren’t the same thing. So, occasionally, I give in and have three or ten black and white cookies, a brief, delicious experience sandwiched by past stress and future guilt.

One way I avoid guilt is by not being a vegetarian. People who choose not to eat “anything that had a mother” for humanitarian (carnivitarian?) reasons puzzle me. How is eating a ham different from eating a radish? Both had mothers. It would make more sense for them to say, “I won’t eat anything that came through a birth canal,” but that doesn’t sound altruistic, just creepy.

Through no fault of my mother’s, I grew up believing plants, especially trees, had feelings just like I did. I still do. So, therein lies the conundrum:   If I stop eating meat because it’s wrong to eat fellow inhabitants of Earth, I would also have to stop eating plants. See my problem?