Today was going to be a post about my first CSA share. Then it was going to be a post about the rabbit processing class I took on Saturday. Then it was going to be a post about nothing. But I changed my mind and decided that instead of nothing, I’d explain why there’s nothing, because I think that it may matter to someone, somewhere. At the least, maybe it will make me feel better.
There is nothing because I’m worn down.
Crying About Tuna
Last week, I was driving home and listening to NPR (per usual). They were talking about the oil spill. Did you know that most tuna spawn in the Gulf? That means that, for many species of tuna, this will be a year with no offspring. This includes bluefin tuna, which, in spite of being highly endangered, were offered no additional protection from overfishing this year.
I stopped eating tuna almost a year ago. I bought my last bulk package of canned tuna and have been hoarding it, eating it only as a special treat. (And, more specifically blue fin related, I stopped eating tuna at sushi restaurants.) When this package is gone I might splurge occasionally and buy (much more expensive) sustainably caught tuna. It is unlikely that tuna sandwiches will ever return to being the summer staple they once were. But it’s not going to make any difference. Futile. Powerless. Insignificant. Hopeless.
The program went on to discuss how the ecosystemic collapse in the Gulf will be delayed based on the development cycles of the species that live there. All of the fish, crustaceans, and other sea life will lose this year’s young. One species of shrimp takes four months to reach maturity. Four months from now, we will see a collapse in the species that feed on this type of adult shrimp (not to mention the fishing industry that depends on them). For other species who take up to several years to reach maturity, the ecosystemic costs will be delayed.
Years.
Alongside the horrifying photos flooding in from the Gulf right now, it was just too much. I sobbed for the tuna, the wetlands, the birds, and the people. But mostly for the tuna.
Killing Rabbits
On Saturday I went and visited the suburban offshoot of a sustainable rabbit farm. I learned to process rabbits. Process, harvest, whatever term you use. I learned to kill rabbits. It was hard. I still don’t entirely know how I feel about it, except to say that it was at once very complicated and incredibly simple.
I know this isn’t for everyone. I suspect some of you are vegetarians or vegans. Some of you may eat meat but not feel a need to be “hands on” with this part of your diet. Food is one of the most personal issues there is, and I respect that. Personally, I don’t feel like I have the right to eat meat unless I am willing to face the full cost. Because there is a cost. So I ended up spending my Saturday morning learning how to kill rabbits. And it was hard.
Moving Forward, The Hard Way
I’m tired. I’m tired of grieving things I feel culpable for, but have little control over. Of trying to understand the full ramifications of my life and be guided by my best conscience in response, and of small changes in the face of big issues. I’m worn around the edges and the whole thing makes my head hurt. Also, having a concussion makes my head hurt, and I’m sure that has a little bit to do with my current inability to process things in a constructive fashion.
A while back I wrote a post about avoiding global caregiver’s syndrome. It was a good post, but my trusty tips fell through for me this week. My dad always used to say that doing the same thing but expecting different results is the definition of stupid, so I thought I would try something new. I’ve signed up to participate in Bindu Wiles’ 21.5.800, combined with Marianne Elliott’s (AKA the Zen Peacekeeper) 30 Days of Yoga. Maybe it won’t help, but I know it can’t hurt.
What do you all do when the world just seems too much? Any tips and tricks you’d care to share? (And don’t say “Don’t get a concussion.” That one I know already 
)
Looking at pictures of cute puppies helps, for a little while. Also: Failblog.
Oh, GOOD call on Failblog. Excellent! Thank you
.
Ditto to what Libby said–Failblog. Also I Can Haz Cheeseburger. And turning off NPR when it gets to be a little too much. (Not all the time, just when you find yourself an emotional wreck over things you have little or no control over.)
Turn off NPR? But but… then how will I micromanage the world??
And… roller derby. Concussion or not, still the most glorious thing I’ve ever done.
“But but… then how will I micromanage the world??
”
It’ll have to micromanage itself for a couple hours.
“And… roller derby.”
Awesome.
PS: How did you end up with a concussion?
Jess I’ve been grieving for the end of the world all my life. Stop. Look at the changes you’ve made. Nurture your garden. Create a mini zen garden in it, just 1 shoebox size section. Make it a memorial garden for the gulf victims. It doesn’t have to be plants, it could be colored pebbles you arrange in a pattern. Doing something sensory and artistic is very holistic. It pauses the grieving process and forces your brain to switch gears. If that fails then get some modeling clay and make fishes. Fill your sink with bubbles and watch the water pour through a strainer or funnel. Fill a big bowl with beans or rice and play in it with your bare feet and hands. I promise you’ll feel much better. Wishing you hugs and solace, from one mother to another (even though you are mothering us all rather than your own.)
Love the ideas about art work, and VERY much love the ideas of rice or beans in a bowl. Think I’ll use this for my upcoming spa day.
Thank you so much for this – delayed response, but thank you for the suggestions. I did some of them and this kind of tactile, restful pause was exactly what I needed
.
Jess, I recognize all too well the save-the-world impulse. And yes, when it feels too overwhelming, turn off the media input! At least for a while.
Keep loving.
Thanks so much for the comment! And good call with the media. Isn’t it amazing how even when you think you’ve cut back, it still sneaks up on you?