Dirt from my grave

Morbid? Nope.

Is there any substance that better represents the ongoing cycle of life—past, present, and future—than soil?

Think about it. The richest soil is fed by—and offers—abundant, living nutrients appropriated from living organisms that have died.

Indeed, our most delicious, nutritious, and colorful fruits and vegetables seem to spring from gardens of the darkest soil. Darkness and the spectre of death, then, are not to be feared; if anything, they remind us of our imperative to live, and of the short time we have to do so fully.

For several years, on top of my refrigerator, I've kept a Snapple jar filled with dirt from my presumed burial spot. I collected it from the family plot in Central Pennsylvania where four generations of my Dad's side are already buried. The cemetery is a hillside, a patch of land owned by the local Mennonite church.

Every week or so, my eye will fall upon the jar, which seems to say: "Here I am—the soil to which you'll return. Your time is short, and unknown. You may have traveled, studied, and lived in different parts the world—made mistakes, found love, hurt, and been hurt—but your bones will ultimately come to commingle with me, and with those of your neighbors and the family from whom you were formed."

To date, the dirt has helped give me the courage to remind friends I love them; to improve my career situation; to give as much as I can to charity; to dedicate my life to sharing the beauty and benefits of veganism with others; and to pursue a meaningful relationship with an incredible person, regardless of the risk of getting hurt. Not a bad deal!

So, no. The subject's not at all morbid; it's not at all something to fear. The jar and its contents are a very present reminder to make the most of every minute, month, year, or decade I'm blessed with.

(Business idea: If I can somehow get a formaldehyde exception, mine could be a very vegan funeral. Vegan weddings seem to be taking off. Why not funerals?)

A perfect time to stop eating animals

Would you be able to kill an animal? If not, and you still eat meat, you're not living in alignment with your values.

I know, I know. People sometimes say, "Animals kill and eat each other. We're no different."

Well, as one of my heroes, Harvey Diamond, first pointed out to me in his brilliant Fit For Life books, could you kill an animal yourself? Could you do what other animals do—chase it down, strangle or smother it, tear it apart with your bare hands, and swallow it raw?

This deliciously-seasoned, nutritious,
colorful holiday stuffing is but one of
thousands of delicious recipes that
prove giving up meat isn't a sacrifice.

If you react to this question with disgust—and couldn't or wouldn't yourself actually go through with killing a living being—you're already a vegetarian in belief, if not yet practice. In addition to the growing number of health and environmental reasons to turn exclusively to plants for nutrition, many vegans and and vegetarians stop eating animals because they would not ask someone else to do for them what they themselves would not do.

"I would not kill a creature," said another of my heroes, Peace Pilgrim. "And I would not ask someone else to kill it for me, so I will not eat the flesh of the creature."

Other signs that you might "already" be a vegetarian or vegan include:

• You find the sight—or even idea—of a butchered animal or slaughterhouse unsettling.
• You sometimes sense a "vague uneasiness" when you buy, order, or eat animal products.
• You sometimes feel like you're not living in alignment with your "true self."

After Thanksgiving 1997, I realized I no longer wanted to have others kill animals on my behalf, and I declared that holiday the last time I'd ever eat turkey. A month later, I made Christmas the last time I'd ever eat ham. That New Year's Day's became a natural time to celebrate the "good luck" tradition of pork and sauerkraut with the resolution to never eat animals again.

You know, the holidays are the perfect time to give yourself, the planet, and animals this gift. It's already a time of reflection, of renewal, of gratitude, of introspection, of compassion, and, of course, of commitment. If the thought of killing your dog or cat—or any animal—gives you a lump in your throat and a knot in your stomach, you're already a vegetarian in belief, and you're ready to take this exciting next step.

Best of all, there's no sacrifice at all in being vegetarian or vegan, only the rewards of a rich variety in food, improved health, and a much lighter spirit.

Day 3: From Liberty to New Hope

At the end of the third and final day of my 3-day walk to celebrate World Vegan Day 2011 and support Farm Sanctuary, I wanted to keep on walking.

That's right! It actually gets easier, the farther you go.

Today was the first and only of the three days that I walked alone for the whole day, so I had plenty of time to feel reflective, to think about what I was doing and why, to think about the people and animals I've known and loved, to remember the times Nicole and I visited Farm Sanctuary, and to smile while thinking about the people who supported (and/or came along for parts of) the three-day walk.

About an hour into today's part of the walk, the ample shoulder began dwindling, so I hiked the two miles back to my car at today's Warminster starting point, choosing to instead drive six miles through Buckingham Township before resuming my journey on foot (with the plan to make up those miles upon arrival in New Hope).

Thus began the second part of my walk today: Seven miles along Routes 263 and 202 (for those of you who might worry, Route 202 is much saner up that way, and there's both a wide shoulder and lots of flat space beyond the road).

It was during this stretch that I spent some time thinking about Peace Pilgrim, the woman who spent decades walking back and forth across the country preaching nonviolence and compassion to any and all who would listen. One of my favorite quotes from her is about inner peace: "It means always being surrounded by all of the good things." It might sound strange, but after walking as she did (if only for three days), I feel like I've discovered the connection between walking, enlightenment, and service she no doubt enjoyed.

What went well

Just about everything! I enjoyed planning, training for, and promoting the fundraising walk for nine months; I appreciate all of the generous donations and wishes of support; and I've found the actual walk, its logistics, and even the aches and pains, challenging and enriching. My favorite times were those when I wasn't alone—so thank you again, Nelly, Rebecca, Eric, Royer, and Mom. Your donations worked together to reach 84% of the original $2,000 fundraising goal before the walk was over, an amazing sum that will help Farm Sanctuary continue its amazing work.

Besides walking, what else was fun? Well, the breaks. I stopped regularly, to stretch, to eat a Larabar (yes, I enjoyed the irony of stocking my orange hunter's vest with Larabars instead of bullets), and to look around. The biggest surprise? Learning to enjoy my nemesis, The Wind. On Day 1, it kept me from overheating.

What I'd change

There's great satisfaction in exceeding the calculated number of hours and miles for the journey—Google Maps says 32.1 walking miles straight from the Liberty Bell up to New Hope (10 hours, 46 minutes), and I logged about 37 miles over 14.5 hours, with breaks. But if I do make another pilgrimage, or plan a similar fundraiser in the future, I'll want to take a contiguous route where I can pick up exactly where I left off each day (and not have to "make up" for areas without sidewalks by looping throughs town to reach the goal mileage).

Thanks again, Everyone. Happy World Vegan Day!

It's not too late to donate! The FirstGiving donation page will remain open through the holiday season; if you're a friend or family member, please make a donation for this cause in lieu of any gifts for me this year. If just 11 of you will support Farm Sanctuary with a $20 gift, we'll reach our $2,000 goal! Please visit my fundraising page to make a secure donation if you haven't yet had the chance to do so.