Soul Topics

Why I’m vegan

Most people do not care about environmentalism. Environmentalism seems interesting, but it does not spur action. It’s hard for one to be connected with it.

Something closer to heart is the social aspect. Pick a group: the elderly, the cognitively challenged, low-income families, poor women and children. These inspire emotions, and some form of human connection.

The term intersectionality recognises that we, humans, have multiple identities. Gay, black, female, vegan. These are marginalised identities, but truly, all of us have multiple marginalised identities, not defined here, and often not defined within ourselves because we aren’t aware enough.

The power lies where one (marginalised) aspect of one person connect with another. For example, many vegans have a strong connection and will to fight for justice of animals. Likewise, the LGBTQ+ societal movement is one towards love, and away from oppression. Both groups understand the travesty of misrepresentation and abuse.

This enables different societal groups to work together. This enables different people to connect with one another. It is something that has been missing in the environmentalism movement. The environment, often conceived as a world out there, is none of our responsibility, as we define it. But this is only natural, because as humans, we only fight for what we care for.

We join groups and circles where we feel we belong. We must understand the connection for ourselves.

I may not have as strong a connection with animals as other vegans, even though I might feel saddened by how animals are treated. What I am really against is the scandal perpetuating in the food industry. Call it other names: conspiracy, travesty, darkness, manipulation. On one hand, there is the manipulation of the masses for the purposes of destruction. One the other hand, there are privileged humans [us] who have the power to choose to allow this manipulation to continue, just because we can.

I am one of the privileged few. All of us are, if you happen to be reading this. While 50,000 men, women and children die of hunger daily, here we are contributing to their destruction, because we’re privileged. We exercise our power of consumption, to direct an enormous of grains, land and water to produce just a little bit of food [animals] for the few [us], leaving billions in those countries to starve (who could’ve fed on the plants and grains we used to feed the few animals for us).

Of course, global hunger is only one issue concerned with mass meat production, that we talk about but do nothing about. Climate change is another.

Why would I care? While I’m privileged, I understand – and identify – with a lack of privilege. Being born in a low-income family is one factor, and growing up without certain skills and competency is another. I connect with the plight of being subjected to harm, and injustice, and a world that carries on without seeing you, because they can, and because they’re blind.

However, my biography is personal.

The reality is, that we live in an interconnected global system; what we consume has implications elsewhere. Realising the scandal that keeps that meat industry thriving for profits and orchestrating the destruction of others, I realised I did not want to contribute – and stand – for that, because I can afford to live better. That was when my choice was made.

The Environment

Marginalised Communities and a Foreign Language: Should we all become environmentalists?

The environment is an overlooked concept unlike the recognition of personal merit and achievements. Broadly speaking, human exploitation of the environment (as manifested in global issues of capitalism, global warming, factory farming etc) has underscored the evidently increasing divide between humans and our environment, leaving out the recognition of co-production which is at the heart of the issue: Just as we exercise agency over the environment, the implications are that the quality of our environment consequently produces us. Not only does this mean that we are intertwined with – not separate from – our environment, it means that the brokenness of our world is a reflection of our broken humanity, and what we do with our environment matters.

In my previous posts I have also discussed how the world is ultimately shaped by the culmination of our inner selves or collective consciousness; it would be a contradiction to delve into topics of feminism, social inequality, vegetarianism and climate change in an effort to reconcile the broken world – in layman terms, “do good” – without a simultaneous effort on our part at self-betterment. The principle is that we unfailingly project our intimate, personal and mistakenly “hidden” realities unto the world, such that we could not better the world without becoming better ourselves.

In this blog, I would consider its reverse, but paramount principle. In order to move forward as a human collective, it is insufficient to merely work on self-betterment; dedicating ourselves to the betterment of our environment (i.e. the external world we live in) is just as important. This is because our inherent interactions with our environment unfailingly determine our inner state, the well-being of our human collective and our future.

Not good enough? Consider the social environments these institutions have constructed for us – our meritocratic system, family and the prisons

Generally some of us might have something in common with the marginalised: a poor self-identity. Yet, the eye of our failings often neglect to extend outwards and examine the four walls surrounding it. Wherever we look, culture might communicate in such a way as to point the finger back at us, subtly and intrudingly dropping us messages that might sound like I’m not good enough, it’s my fault, and I didn’t work hard enough to deserve X. While social media for most people is guilty as a major culprit, the meritocratic system ought to receive its fair share of blame.As with most political promises of happiness that serve to blind the non-elite individual with bright colors of a brighter future, meritocracy is a lopsided concept; it overstates individual merit and hard work by obscuring from sight the four walls that might have contained the individual within a dark, tight spot to manoeuvre from in the first place, namely and specifically – but not limited to – his/her social environment.

In truth, the failures of an individual might have more to do with his position in the social structure than we’re often willing to admit. In reality, inequality begins at birth. The social environment of the family one is born into, or grows up in, has undeniable biological and psychological consequences. For the poor, a high-stress environment – often dictated by the circumstances of the child’s parents – burdens the child and progresses him towards failure. In the same light, my sociology lecturer, in one of the modules I’ve read, flashed an article in class which states that a typical working-class kid might be exposed to a ratio of 75,000 positive words to 200,000 discouraging ones via the family.

Clearly, meritocracy depoliticises failure; its defined set of values – of which ‘hard work’ is key – negates the first six years of familial socialisation that the child has no control over. However, it doesn’t stop there. The disadvantaged starting point creates a ripple effect that permeates, silently, all other spheres of life, including one’s education. Herein lies meritocracy’s contradiction: the notion of educational affiliation – a system of entitlement and privileges – generally outcasts the working class kid from a stratified education space of ‘elite’ schools. Furthermore, social class subsequently affects one’s social capital later in life i.e. the social connections that would illuminate more future opportunities.

Having considered the implications of socialisation and the family, it would be of no surprise to learn that the phenomenon of imprisonment speaks of a correlation between social class and crime. In fact, the prison environment – despite its supposed aims of  ‘rehabilitation’ – paints a clearer picture of how criminals are produced and inequality is reproduced. Sociologist Erving Goffman discusses how such deliberate manipulation of an environment (for ‘resocialisation’ goals) manifests as a ‘total institution’; locked doors and high walls slowly strips the individual self of its connections to the outside world to the point where the self is given up to be defined by the social arrangements within the four walls. Gradually, as the individual socialises with other criminals while being treated as one physically, energetically and through words, dehumanisation occurs. While the individual might not have been institutionalised before, the norms and imperatives of the modern prison system culminate to ensure that the individual knows without a shadow of a doubt what his master identity is: a criminal.

Source: Unsplash

Nourishment by the ‘foreign tongue’ of our soil

It is clear that marginalised communities and the less privileged are deeply impacted by their inextricable ties with their social environments. Are we – no matter our social position – any less different? While we might not see the drastic implications of having been confined to a single ‘total environment’, there are milder but sure ways that the environment alters our state, and by extension, the condition of humanity.

Perhaps, albeit strange, I shall illustrate the point of subtle communication through a local event which I had attended in part. It was a session of exchange of poetry and language, with music and dance that seeks to connect locals culturally with migrant workers, named ‘Migrant Poetry Evening’.

The poetry readings were communicated in their original tongue by the authors with eager intonations that sounded like bright colors of a foreign culture (which I believe involved Bengali, Tamil and other languages). Apart from the first reading in English, I could not understand a word that was uttered. Despite the lack of verbal translation, I lingered on with a thought at the back of my mind. Language contains energy floating around the psyche that has been retrieved by our ancestors, those who have come before us, as mentioned by Shakespeare and Robert Bly in his book ‘A Little Book on the Human Shadow’. Perhaps, the vibrations communicated went beyond sounds alone. In simplified terms, I wanted to tap into the ‘realm of poetry’, and just to go into a more inspired place than I was before moody and depressed.

I did not stay beyond the hour mark, but I left the place with my subtle depression lifted, and my state grew calmer just listening to the foreign language of poetry. Yet, truly, our immediate environment has been speaking to us in a ‘foreign tongue’ all along – a language we do not understand (or even hear) – and sending vibrations that travel into our unconscious, that alter and constantly programme and reprogramme our state.

What has this to do with becoming an environmentalist? As the principle of environment-society co-production suggests, we are interlinked, not merely with one another through social ties, but in an inextricable manner with the environment that we hold a power to construct, individually and collectively. We should thus ask the question: How might we become produced, if we were to live amongst a humanity that does not care about the Earth and suffering alike, in a deteriorating physical climate? What would happen to our state and the condition of humanity?

To become an environmentalist is to be concerned with the condition of our Earthly soil, through which we might anchor our roots deep down and seep nourishment from. I believe it is to become more human in a place we could call home, and to become more connected to one another, that is all we have, and through which to be connected with our fundamental values.

Soul Topics

The Crossing of a Threshold

In the previous post, I have discussed what is needed to embrace a new phase of life. An individual must be willing to give up old habits, patterns and conditioning in order to make space for new life. Not to be overlooked also is the importance of coming to define our personal rites of passage – a dedicated course of action subjecting us to the training of our mental, spiritual and emotional faculties – that would carry us on a journey of transfiguration.

The Crossing of a Threshold

What comes after? There is another concept that is equally fascinating, that is the crossing of a threshold, which successfully carries the individual from the realm of the ordinary world into a new zone of experience and magnified power.

Having travelled to the boundaries of ordinary limits, one comes face to face with the threshold guardian and is posed an inevitable test.

The test is dangerous, fear is magnified, one feels the threat of death. Likely, we have already failed this test many times – without recognising what it was. Having committed to our rites of passage where we have been training in the metaphorical gym of our lives for some time, the test of the threshold guardian threatens to break the established limits and boundaries of our personal experience, with the promise of liberation on the other side. In other words, if we manage to cross over, we do not default back to our ordinary lives, but receive a psychological rewiring and renewal. It marks a death and rebirth, a completion of a cycle, where an old you has passed and a new version has been manifest.

What does the individual need for the crossing of such a threshold? Joseph Campbell, in his book ‘The Hero With A Thousand Faces’, mentions that when old concepts, ideals and emotional patterns no longer fit, the time for the passing of a threshold is at hand.

The adventure is always and everywhere a passage beyond the veil of the known into the unknown; the powers that watch at the boundary are dangerous; to deal with them is risky; yet for anyone with competence and courage the danger fades.

Courage is a sword that readily battles fear, but often we do not feel ready enough to confront the challenge. We feel like we are lacking; we do not possess the internal weaponry. Campbell writes that:

though the terrors will recede before a genuine psychological readiness, the overbold adventurer beyond his depth may be shamelessly undone.

In other words, we are psychologically incompetent. What do we do then?

The twisted humor of life subjects us to its cruelty, and as a result we often might find ourselves somewhere else, in a different place, stage or situation that we did not ask for. What else could we do, when to advance forth is to face needless death? It appears that the powers that guard our space are not only fatherly and dangerous – urging us to do battle with the unknown – but also motherly and protective, ensuring that our passage is walkable, shielding us from demons which would ruthlessly rip us apart.


Hence, we ask ourselves a question: Are we psychologically equipped and physically capable to thrive in the experience that we are calling forth? If not, life forces us to make detours.

As a result, we might get a poorer substitute to what we truly want. We find ourselves in relationships that end bitterly, in places foreign in every way, in projects that fail and with people who break us down. We might feel punished, deprived, worthless.

The naked eye – severed from perspective – views this as punishment; what meaning could one possibly fathom in the depths of despair? Our souls are distraught.

We need to know this: Love is not only tender and forgiving, but acts upon us in a very fierce manner when we do not relinquish the intensity of that which we are asking for. Often, we are too blind to recognise that we are merely on a detour. The point of a detour is to break us down further, make us question, and impart digestible seeds of knowledge so that we would be psychologically ready for the crossing of the threshold.

Thus, would we choose to perceive the lessons contained within those darker episodes and phases of our lives? What do your past experiences have to teach you?

We desire to advance, surpass our limits and be liberated from our fears, so much that we might be caught up with the chase and the fantasy of crossing over to another zone of experience. Yet, what truly matters is the process behind it, the multiple detours we had to make, the experiences we have accumulated within them, and the countless times we have failed. They make us embrace our humanness, and the crossing of the threshold is not achieved by one who is gifted, but by one who is determined enough to develop competence and a courage that comes with it and shines forth.