1225:
The alarm clock, the machine
from Hell.
Your wonderful dream,
interrupted by its jangling bell.
Your sleeping hand lashes
out, knocking it to the floor.
But it’s strongly built and
keeps ringing, loud and sure.
The alarm clock is resented
at first, for waking you up, but later it’s restored to the bedside table, now
appreciated for jolting you into the new day, perhaps allowing a new way of
seeing reality.
The art of being vegan is to
see the sleeping world for what it is, as simply not yet ready to wake. It involves getting yourself thrown against
the wall, having your initiatives cut short and your feelings hurt, but overall
it is to know that whatever happens, that the sleepers will eventually be
roused. That’s where we come in, acting like
daylight, breaking into the world of dreams and the comfortable warmth of
sleep. But how do we wake people,
how do we let the daylight in? And
are we trying to wake people or alarm them?
Is it a revenge we want or to
play by a gentle set of rules? Are we
rude awakeners or kindly voices of reason? Some might need to be shaken, but how do we
know if they don’t just need a whisper in the ear? Imagine the damage we do when we come across
as heavy booted. Our good intentions might
not be apparent. We might be seen as
pushy, like old time preachers. We might
not be able to see ourselves as others see us. So, when we’re talking up Animal Rights, we
forget to consider others’ feelings, forget to be subtler.
I often wonder how we can get
the hardened omnivore to like eating vegan food or like animals enough to make
a few personal sacrifices. I know I
won’t get far by finger wagging or disapproving or by a
“look-at-me-look-at-my-health-aren’t-I-the-clever-one” approach. But there again I need to be energetic, sure
of my arguments and yet appear to be at ease with it all.
I can start by killing off
the strict, clean-living image of an eater of dull-but-nutritious food. If it has to be about food, then I’ll get
further by letting my friends taste what I eat than hear about diet. I need to get them to want to eat our
way (and I’m talking here about delicious food that isn’t expensive or exotic).
Let them see an attractive lifestyle and
hear me enjoying putting forward my arguments, as if it’s a breeze, as if it’s
ridiculous for me to think any other way. Let them be ‘wowed’ at my plan for the Earth’s
brilliant future. Let them see why I
want to leave behind all those trashy, go-nowhere conventions, that others
follow.
For that I don’t need to push
or seem desperate, when I argue my case. I’m already there, safe and sure, and happy to
exist in a different culture which has a different sensitivity. I don’t need to draw attention to it by
seeming to be better than anybody else. I
just need to come across as an experimenter. I’m probably showing off a bit (I can’t help
it!) but only to present some life-saving ideas which are part of a grand plan.
And if it all seems a bit whacky (this
preposterous idea of not using animals for anything) my aim would be to allow
the penny to drop of its own accord. I
want to let the idea do the work for itself. It’s not our job to persuade or rush anyone.
We’ve no need to prove we’re
different or give anyone an excuse to stamp us ‘crazy’. Instead we can simply act like a radio station
that can be tuned into (or out of) at will, presenting good ideas for improving
the quality of life. If we’re telling a
good story, it should be able to link issues of social justice with those of
living harmlessly. Then we can let
people draw their own conclusions.
As advocates for animals and
for human welfare, our message should be approximately the same as every other
vegan throughout the world - a simple, subtle and soft promotion of non-violent
progress. For most of us, that’s the
great challenge - to find subtler and more persuasive ways of reaching others,
without using sledge-hammer tactics or the ugliness of such slogans as ‘meat is
murder’ (which, needless to say, it most certainly is!).
No comments:
Post a Comment