Return Flight and More

(I wrote the following immediately after the Longevity Now Conference. Just thinking out loud here. Please, no offense intended toward anyone. I simply wanted to explore these ideas.)
September 28, on the return flight from the Longevity Now Conference in Costa Mesa, CA.
I’m looking out the window through cloud wisps at mountains and desolation. It even appears that there’s snow covering the higher altitudes, though that seems unlikely since California was gripped in a heat wave over the weekend. This landscape is in stark contrast to the congested conditions of Southern California, with people, cars, and buildings crammed from the mountains in the east all the way to the Pacific in the west. I’m looking now at an “oasis” of green patches, uncannily regular, plopped in the middle of a mountainous desert. Again, the human imposition of linearity and clean-edged geometry clashes with the lyrical undulation that is the natural landscape. Could this be a metaphor for the human presence on planet earth? Of course, not all human presence so starkly imprints its traces on the Earth’s surface. There have certainly been cultures that would be barely visible from 30,000 feet, despite existing in relatively large numbers. But contemporary humanity leaves an indelible scar, a kind of cosmic Rorschach that reads “left-brain, linear, analytical, predictable.” Juxtaposing these two dichotomous systems is nearly imponderable. My mind and heart seek some sort of reconciliation.
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This weekend was a whirl of moments, with health-seeking souls from around the planet converging on a hotel in the midst of the Southern California urban soup. The contrast bordered on the inane, as shivering vendors and attendees donned jackets and sweaters in an attempt to remain comfortable in the controlled climate of the hotel, while the temperature outside approached 100°, and the scene on the street took on an unreal, cinema-like quality, a desert painted with a backdrop of shopping strips and SUV’s, all seeking shelter from the scorching sun. Since we traded in our Wisdom traditions and lifestyles for technology and comfort, our carbon-sequestered bank account has been steadily depleted by withdrawals in an attempt to buy our way out of Nature. It’s this spend-it-all-now mindset we’ve developed, with a blatant disdain for future consequences, that continues to gnaw at me.

I want to acknowledge how grateful I am for people like David Wolfe, Daniel Vitalis, Truth Caulkins, Joseph Mercola, Donna Gates, and the many others that have given their lives in service to help seekers find their personal truth. This sense of divine purpose, of serving others while setting aside personal comforts, is an inspiration. I witnessed this gratitude etched on the faces and hearts of many people throughout the weekend. Bravo to these torchbearers of wellness!

Like the high-altitude perspective that illuminates those human vs. Nature contrasts, I wish to seek a similar atmosphere from which to view the events of the weekend. I was struck by how many speakers advocate using any and all means to gather materials that promote healing and wellness, and I applaud this effort. Only one speaker that I heard (and I was not able to attend all the talk), Daniel Vitalis, spoke eloquently in favor of seeking local solutions to health. Many of the speakers have an impressive mastery of healing traditions and systems from around the world, yet the first suggestion to a questioner seeking health advice is not to look into their own backyard. Like the linear geometry I’m witnessing that’s been imposed on the landscape far below, the western mind embodied in these eloquent researchers has a blind spot toward the natural order of things and simply seeks to solve the problem being faced. At what cost, though? Is it really wise to send out an order to the universe and expect it be filled by plane, train, or automobile? What about the environmental stress this causes in a time when the clock is running out on fossil fuels? I once heard an herbalist, Tommy Priester, say that when you move into a home, by the third season you’re there, herbs that are specific to your needs will begin growing, if allowed to, within 50 feet of your door. It really is possible to overthink all of this. Based on the wisdom of the ancient and traditional cultures as described by Weston Price and others, health begins very close to home. When we eat whole food, in season, that is indigenous to where we live, whether it be animal or plant sourced, we begin to build a foundation for our health. If we find and drink water from a nearby spring, walk and exercise in our natural environment, and CONNECT with the earth right where we live, this foundation begins to broaden and deepen. And if we sleep and dream, giving our bodies a chance to replenish, and our essence, Soul, the opportunity to play in Its natural playground, we move into a greater state of BEING. It’s only from this state can true healing begin. It’s here that the exotica of Chinese herbalism or Amazonian superfoods can bring us to a higher degree of health, IF NECESSARY.
Having been a longtime vegetarian and raw vegan, I’m well aware of the impulse to seek high quality nutrition from any and every source. Our bodies crave saturated fats and the building blocks of protein, as well as minerals that we can shuttle to our rebuilding cells. Despite what some may claim, goji berries and cacao beans are not excellent sources of protein. The facts, as revealed by numerous research studies and researchers, leads to the inevitable conclusion that many humans require animal fats and protein in order to thrive. Even more importantly, future generations are exceedingly dependent on proper dietary preparation by BOTH parents. A raw vegan may thrive for a while as the body cleanses and detoxifies from previous poor eating habits, but their children will undoubtedly be affected, as will succeeding generations. When David Wolfe says the longest living people on the planet are those who eat cacao—and he says it with such conviction that you want to believe it—does he then discount the people of Siberia, the longest living peoples on Earth? Many there are documented to have lived well over 150 years. And the Hunzas, the great mountain culture of central Asia who live well beyond 100 years. What about the Australian aboriginals, or the New Zealand Maoris, or even the Inuit before the arrival of Western diets? All of these cultures could produce long-living, robust peoples free of disease. In these cultures lies the secrets of longevity. The common threads? They ALL lived and ate close to home, consuming a diet of whole, fresh or dried, completely unprocessed, NATIVE foods. And, yes, they all ate animal foods. They lived close to and in harmony with the natural world. They lived in communities that were supportive in ways that we can scarcely imagine. If they ate cacao, it literally grew in their own backyards. That is the secret sauce to vibrant health and longevity.
When we incarnate onto planet Earth, we are given a variety of conditions which we have earned through our karmic journey spanning many lives. The place, time, culture, family, body type, blood type, hair color, gender, socio-economic stratum—all these and more are determined entirely by choices we’ve made along the way. In this life, we are presented with challenges that are intended to stimulate our inevitable spiritual unfoldment, moving us closer to a state of pure, divine love. Health challenges are part of this equation, especially in this place and this time. But traditional or Wisdom cultures had their big issues with facing the challenges of the natural world, and they developed sophisticated strategies to live in and thrive under the harshest of conditions. Most importantly, they recognized the many gifts they were given that existed all around them. Plants that gave medicine, animals that gave nourishment, springs that gave healing waters. Oceans and streams teemed with live-giving nutrients, as they still do today. They didn’t flinch from the prospect that their life and that of their own depended on other living beings to give of themselves. Herein lies the fatal flaw of veganism: All of life on earth is dependent on the surrender of another life to the cause. This paradigm, indisputable when one looks across the spectrum of Nature, is an adult viewpoint. When an animal, a cultivated plant, a wild herb, or even a fungi is harvested for food, a life is snuffed out so that another may thrive. If a forest is cleared so a field of perennial grasses grow in rich soil teeming with organisms, providing a herd of ruminants nourishment, then trees have made way for the feeding of countless lives, as long as the field is properly stewarded. A skilled and conscious farmer will tend that field so that it feeds generations of local residents indefinitely. If, however, a field is cleared—and make no mistake about, many creatures including mammals will die in the process—in order to plant grains or other annual crops, that field is destined for fallowness. No amount of compost from an outside source, like the herding of animals, will restore the nutrients to that soil once it has been tilled for planting. And where will this replenishment come from? It must come from sequestered carbon, either in the form of petroleum or off site composting. It’s a downward cycle that’s doomed to destroy the soil. Inevitably, the carbon bank account is drained.
If one abhors the killing of animals—and who can argue with that—then what about keeping health vibrant by borrowing from the traditional cultures around the world, their secrets of health and longevity? How does one reconcile the carbon expense it takes for these substances to arrive at our door? Do we really want to spend our future on our own personal health, simply so we can step outside the laws of nature and soothe our philosophical conscience? Adhering to a “philosophy” of eating is a luxury unknown to all of the world’s wise and traditional cultures. Their lifestyles were determined entirely by the environment in which they lived. Nicely harmonious. Not necessarily cushy, but extremely sustainable. The laws of nature haven’t disappeared simply because we’re unable to face up to them. We’ve developed strategies to buy our way out of the natural world, for now. But I’m pretty sure there is a price to be paid. And when we borrow these secrets from the wise cultures, and use them out of context, do they really operate any longer the way they did when in context? Are we truly privy to the dance between people and place that nature does to its own music? If we live in Rio de Janiero, and we find out that Inuits lived long and robustly healthy lives eating seal blubber, would it behoove us to import the seal blubber so we could do likewise? Or would a better strategy be to study the indigenous cultures of the Amazon and take steps to live like them? Since I live in New England, and I’m guessing my body is synchronized with that climate’s vibrational energy, why would I seek to heal by importing exotic foods and herbs from the tropical regions? It’s a fool’s mission on many levels. If we’re living disconnected from our natural environment on all fronts—in buildings, in cars, supported entirely by technology—and our health is suffering, do we then look to more technology for the solution? Borrowing from other cultures just because we can does not bestow on us the magic of health. This is the pharmaceutical paradigm: If our health fails from a life removed from the laws of Nature, let’s find a medicine somewhere that will allow us to continue to defy these laws.
Make no mistake about it. I’m not advocating eating or participating in the industrial food culture in any way. I am exceedingly grateful I stepped outside the omnivore’s world for the last 30 years until the consciousness of local food sourcing emerged. Had I eaten toxic animals that were disrespected in every imaginable way for the last three decades, I shudder to think what condition I may be in today. But veganism is not a simple choice between eating veal or beef or chickens or pork that has been shamefully treated as commodity and no more, and not eating them or their by-products. Being aware of the interconnectedness of all life, with a maturity that accepts the natural order, allows for the humane treatment and slaughter of animals for elevated levels of well being on all fronts. Choosing to eat meat, dairy and eggs from grass-fed and pastured animals is not an anti-life choice. It’s a recognition that life is profound on many levels and our choices must often be profound, as well. Is there a vegan out there who believes that a Native American, who revered all of life to a degree we can only imagine, was less of a person because they killed and ate the meat of animals?
September 29, Back in Maine
So happy to be back home in Maine, a truly amazing place to live and be! As we woke up to sun, clouds, sky, and nature, Aimee and I sat on our porch to eat breakfast. Like every morning we had bacon and eggs from our favorite farmers who live close by. I even have them in my phone contacts. I go to their farms or the farmer’s market to pick up our food. Since January 1 of this year, Aimee and I have been moving closer toward the goal of eating an entirely local diet. We rarely ever go into a store anymore, even a health food store. As I begin to assimilate all that we heard and experienced over the weekend with our attempts to eat entirely locally, this thought occurred to me as we were walking on the beach this morning. When we live in any area and make it our home, and especially if we make a connection with Nature in our area, we establish an energetic relationship with our natural environment such that it will present us with opportunities to further ourselves on every level—physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually. If a mullein plant is growing in my backyard (and one really is right now as we speak), isn’t that the mullein I should be using for medicinal purposes rather than mullein harvested thousands of miles away? Or, if I want to be true to this ideal, do I opt for a substance that only grows in the Amazon if an even better substance, tailor made for my needs, exists within a few miles from where I live? Should we scour the world over for the plants and substances highest in certain minerals, phytonutrients, polysaccharides, etc., simply because analysis shows them to be beneficial to some? I’m searching here for that reconciliation I proposed earlier, because even Aimee and I are engaged in a business that moves substances all over the planet in order to create unique products that have marketplace appeal. By taking food and medicine away from natural sources and placing them into the open marketplace, we are opting out of the laws of Nature. Technology, which includes transportation, has broken down climatic barriers in the same way the GMO crowd has brought down interspeciel firewalls.
We in the health and wellness industry, always quick to criticize the medical/pharmaceutical establishment for seeking quick solutions to complex problems, may have fallen prey to the same impulse. Scouring the earth for magic bullets, under the guise of “natural,” is the same paradigm. The Wisdom Cultures had it right, even if it was only by default since they had very little choice. Live, work, and be in your own backyard, for there, right under your nose, are the gifts you’ve been seeking. May the Blessings Be!