I walk into the backyard and find both Crappy Boy and Crappy Baby sitting on the grass with a pile of shredded plants between them from our overgrown herb garden.
I ask them what they are doing and they tell me that they are destroying plants.
I say, “You are destroying plants? On purpose?”
Crappy Boy answers:
Regret? Remorse? Guilt?
Nope, none of those words are the one he is searching for.
Oh! I suddenly remember a conversation at a friend’s house a few weeks back. Emma and her family only eat meat that has been raised compassionately. At one point, Emma’s mom tried to explain to Crappy Boy what compassionately raising and harvesting an an animal meant. He was confused and then I forgot all about the conversation.
But this must be what he is referring to!
I confirm, “So you’re destroying plants…but with compassion?”
Well, the plants did have a good life.
I’m pretty sure that this definition of compassion is not exactly what the Dalai Lama has in mind.
Eventually I’ll try to help him reach a greater understanding of what compassion means. But not over rosemary and lavender. It’s all over our yard.
This post is in no way meant to be interpreted as judgy towards the way you or your friends eat.
As I wrote in this post:
- I don’t care what you eat.
- Still don’t.