Chicken Slaughter, chicken slaughter, the words alone sound ugly, like a job you have to brace yourself for. Bracing to kill an animal, to see it struggle and its little heart beating faster as its life comes to and end, and I am not knowing if the axe will cut cleanly, or if there will be further struggle. 

Is this the normal process a human mind goes through as it contemplates the process ahead of it? I don’t think so, maybe? 

Phil doesn’t think like me at all. He says there is something broken in him where he simply doesn’t feel the emotion of it. But I still think I can see his hands shake and the adrenaline pumping, no matter how he braces for it. 

There is no real stepping back from this process that your mind needs to go through to do things like cutting the body of another living being to pieces. What makes me shrug my shoulders mentally and with some incredulity is how easy it is to get butter chicken from an Indian restaurant and not spare a micron of our brains as to where, how or what happened to that meat we are putting in our mouth. 

Do we sprinkle flavors over meat to further disguise it from where it has come from and to what we are about to do with it sitting on our plate? When does that bit of flesh transform in our minds from the living, then bloody dead body to, "yum I want to put that in my mouth"?

Is it only after it is rendered non-animal like, prepped, seasoned and ready to roast that our brains can agree with our stomachs. I know the arguments either way. Morgan declared himself a vegetarian the very night after being a part of the process of the kill, then proceeded to dig into a bucket of KFC with us at dinner. I am familiar with the thought process on the land, "this is the way it has to be if we want to eat". Growing up on a cattle station and butchering big, beautiful (delicious) steers every couple of months to fill our farm freezer. 

Reading back at all these points of discussion, the bit that causes me a hitch in my gut is the disconnect point. The raw, bloody action of taking life to give yourself life. A holy, sacred act. We should feel it, the weight of it, the transition of it, from the life of another being to the delicious morsel of flavored meat that is about to nourish my body.

Every point along is a space that should be mentally dwelt in, considered, and meditated on. Sorrow, fear, respect, meaning, purpose and hope in the living of another day. The power of thoughts leading to action.

I am sick of burning up my time on this earth disconnected to everything, everyone, and most importantly to my thoughts and feelings. Even if at that precise moment my thoughts and feelings are unpleasant. To eat another animal I should experience those few unpleasant points in order to do honor and justice to that animal and to my own body.