I have always (ALWAYS) been very opinionated, and make no apology for it. I inherited that from both my parents.
The other thing I inherited was the way we ate. My mom is a great cook, cooking from whole-food ingredients almost every single day. She is from another era, where "dinner out" was a big deal, and cooking from scratch was the way one cooked. She honours our family every day with her cooking, and is imaginative, authentic and cooks with integrity. Almost.
Dad is a traditional guy too - loves a good hearty Canadian meal, but isn't prone to the excesses. The food he likes certainly isn't bland, but it isn't exotic either. He wouldn't know what to do with a knob of ginger, a vanilla pod, or even a hunk of celeriac. His favourite spice is black pepper. He is a simple, healthy eater. ALMOST.
When one transitions to veganism - and one is prone to being opinionated to begin with - you can't help but get somewhat evangelical about how good it feels for every area of your life. You lose weight, you feel more energy, you feel calmer, your skin clears up, you lose that stuffy cloggy feeling, you spend less money, you have more time, everything from waking up in the morning to flossing your teeth at night is just BETTER. ALMOST.
Almost everything is good about a whole food, plant based diet. Everything EXCEPT your interaction with others. There, it feels like a bad decision. Sometimes, I just want out of the whole damn thing. I want to go back to cholesterol, weight, and risk factors, for the ease of ordering in a restaurant, ease of navigating a menu, - the sheer facility of eating a standard north american diet. I almost want to go back to "worrying" about e coli, or salmonella contaminating my hands, washing them furiously after a chicken meal, even though I have no such worries at my house now.
Both of my parents have very high blood pressure. Both are carrying extra weight. Both have hereditary risk factors (mom with cancer, dad with coronary issues). Both people are important to me, and as much as they drive me nuts sometimes, I would love to have them around for years more than their current lifestyles indicate that they will be.
I know I can't change them.
I know I can't change years of what is normal for them in the way they cook and eat.
I know I shouldn't preach at them about their consumption of butter, factory raised chicken, farmed fish, and battery farmed non-organic eggs.
Have you ever heard the joke quote "insanity is hereditary - you get it from your children?" :) I wish that could be true.
I wish dad could inherit my new 120/81 blood pressure and I wish mom would inherit my new 22.5 BMI. It would also be great if my Atkins-opinionated brother would outgrow his obsession with eliminating "carbs", and my other brother would absorb a smoke-free lifestyle.
Being surrounded by their bad habits and their resistent and ingrained way of thinking and eating makes me feel like I know something good, but can't change the way it is. Like one of those farmed salmon being fed coloured pellets, wondering why my food doesn't taste like actual fish, or like a caged egg-laying chicken perplexed at why all those eggs I lay never hatch, or like a sloppy pig wondering where we are all going on such a big truck. What's worse? Not knowing, or KNOWING but being to powerless change it?
I feel like I've been let in on one of life's great secrets, and yet I'm feeling quite helpless to change those I love. Part of me misses the ease of just doing it the way we've always done it - regardless of the consequences.
I can only hope for that hereditary thing to kick in soon, maybe they'll get it eventually.
I do not feel very Zen tonight, and no amount of plants is going to change that.
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