actually did it

Butcher a couple of chickens, that is. I'm not really sure what to say about it. Diane came and helped me, which was the only way I could do it. She also raised chickens as a kid and experienced the butchering part, but I think it was different for both of us this time. For me, it was about mindfulness. About being grateful. About realizing that since I eat meat, I am doing what we all should do--be responsible to take the life of what we eat instead of letting others do the dirty work for us. To look the chicken in the eye with the full understanding of what is taking place. It was sobering.

When we went to the barn to take our first rooster, I picked up one of the ones that was pretty hard on the hens, who are starting to bleed because of the roosters constantly jumping on them. Diane was brought up a bit short seeing how he just sat in my arms and let me hold him. It was a pretty terrible moment, and neither of us were sure we could do it. We stood there for a while thinking about it, looked at the beat up hens, and decided it was something that needed to be done. Like I said, it felt pretty terrible.

I knew that when this day would come I would want to be able to say some sort of prayer or blessing, but for the life of me, the only thing I could think of was the prayer from "The 13th Warrior" that Ahmed prayed before the battle with the Wendols:


For all we ought to have thought, But have not thought,
For all we ought to have said, But have not said,
For all we ought to have done, But have not done,
I pray thee Allah, forgive me.


It might not seem like the best prayer, but it worked for me. It's not about condemning ourselves for what we could have done and haven't, but it's an acknowledgement that our lives haven't been perfect. That we haven't been perfect. There seems to be a kindness, and perhaps even an acceptance, of the self that comes through in this prayer.

Surprisingly, and I think for both of us, once we were committed to doing it it didn't feel as bad as we expected it to. There was something that, even though this involved taking a life, seemed right--that seemed just. It was right for me to have to look in their eyes. It was right for me to feel terrible about it. This is only as it should be if I am going to eat meat.

All that I know is that when it comes time to eat those chickens, I will think about those eyes, think about what they looked like, and appreciate, far more than I ever have before, each bite that I take. I think that if everyone took responsibility to kill and prepare their own food, there would be much less obesity in the world. We would eat so much less.

But still, all that being said, I pray thee, Allah, forgive me.