Compassion Fatigue, Self-Care, and the Voracious Consumption of Information
The mind, once stretched by a new idea, never returns to its original dimensions.
—Ralph Waldo Emerson
O nce awakened, sleep feels far away. Once you know, you can’t unknow, and this stage is all about knowing and validating what we’ve come to know. By the time we get here, we’ve already had our epiphany. We’ve already had our awakening, but we’re still adjusting to the light and rubbing the sleep out of our eyes. Fully awake and acutely aware, some of the first questions we ask ourselves are How can this be real? and How can this be true? It’s not that we don’t believe the facts that compelled us to become vegan, but we want to see with our own eyes. We want proof, evidence, corroboration, validation. We want documentation. This isn’t a matter of the skeptic who needs to see in order to believe; it’s more like we’re making up for lost time and lost awareness, which produces an insatiable desire to consume everything we missed while we were sleeping. At this stage, we read every book we can get our hands on and watch every documentary. We seek out podcasts, videos, and websites. We drink in everything related to veganism, becoming intoxicated by the facts we avoided for so long. We watch animal slaughter videos with our mouths agape and our eyes filled with tears, determined to bear witness now that we’re awake. We devour resources related to nutrition and health to confirm the benefits of a plant-based diet and to dispel any lingering notions that we’re physiologically designed to thrive on animal flesh and fluids. We look for resources to confirm that we can transition our family healthfully or that we can still be strong and muscular, capable of competing in marathons and winning triathlons. We buy our first vegan cookbook and search the internet for recipes, excited to venture into a realm of new tastes and textures.
Like a newborn for whom the whole world is fresh, we feel vulnerable and curious, overwhelmed and passionate, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. This is the point at which we begin sharing our newfound knowledge with everyone around us, prefacing most of our sentences with Did you know . . .? or I can’t believe . . .! or I had no idea. . . . We ask ourselves, How can this be happening? This might refer to the fact that nearly 70 billion land animals worldwide are brought into this world only to be killed (a conservative estimate considering the fact that some countries underreport).1 This might refer to the fact that 1 to 3 trillion aquatic animals are killed each year by the global commercial fishing industry.2 Or the fact that the majority of animals killed are not protected under any humane slaughter laws. Or the fact that those who are covered still experience immense pain and suffering. Or the fact that baby male chicks in the egg industry are killed upon hatching because they’re useless in an industry that exploits the female reproductive system.
This might refer to the fact that animal agriculture is responsible for 14.5 percent of anthropogenic (human-caused) greenhouse gas emissions, more than the exhaust from all modes of transportation combined,3 posing a fundamental threat to all life on this planet. This might refer to the fact that 2,500 gallons of water are needed to produce one pound of beef, 1,000 gallons of water for one gallon of cow’s milk, 477 gallons for one pound of eggs, and 900 gallons for one pound of cheese.4 Or that the US government kills millions of wild animals on public lands every year at the behest of private ranchers.5
Or that every minute, 7 million pounds of excrement are produced by animals raised for food in the US.6 Or that for every pound of fish caught, up to five pounds of unintended marine species are caught and discarded as by-kill.7 Or that animal agriculture is responsible for up to 91 percent of Amazon rainforest destruction.8 Or that 80 percent of antibiotics sold in the United States are fed to livestock to keep animals healthy since the stressful conditions under which they’re raised make them prone to disease.9
This might refer to the fact that there is a proven link between consumption of dairy products and autoimmune diseases.10 Or that children suffer from ailments linked to dairy consumption.11 Or that your chances of getting cancer if you eat meat are one in two if you’re male and one in three if you’re female.12 Or to the fact that red meat intake is associated with an elevated risk of cardiovascular disease and cardiovascular death.13
Many of us on this journey may enter this first stage before we’re fully vegan—when we’re vegetarians or pescatarians. For instance, when I first stopped eating land animals after reading John Robbins’s Diet for a New America but was still eating the flesh of aquatic animals and the milk and eggs of land animals, I wanted to know more about animal abuses and animal rights. Even though I was still half-asleep—I just didn’t make the connection to the ethical and health considerations related to fish, cow’s milk, and chicken’s eggs—I read everything I could about other animal issues, including animal testing, puppy mills, circuses, and zoos, and decided then and there to become an advocate for animals. It took several years before I became fully awake—before I became vegan—but those early days of information-seeking laid the path for the journey that was still ahead of me.
In my quest to voraciously consume information, the first book I found (and one that I still have today) was called Animal Rights: A Beginner’s Guide—A Handbook of Issues, Organizations, Actions, and Resources by Amy Blount Achor. I can still remember sitting in a library in New Jersey in 1992 carefully perusing that 420-page book, soaking up every word, poring over every photo, and feeling determined to do what I could to stop the atrocities. Several years later, I read Slaughterhouse by Gail Eisnitz, which knocked me into full consciousness, compelled me to become vegan, and inspired me to read every book I could find about animal protection and veganism. I devoured one book after another: Animal Liberation and Ethics into Action: Henry Spira and the Animal Rights Movement by Peter Singer, The Case for Animal Rights by Tom Regan, An Unnatural Order by Jim Mason, The Dreaded Comparison by Marjorie Spiegel, Dead Meat by Sue Coe, Mad Cowboy by Howard Lyman.
Even a couple of years after becoming vegan, I was still voraciously consuming information. I devoured every new animal rights book that came out, including Rattling the Cage: Toward Legal Rights for Animals by Steven M. Wise, Eternal Treblinka: Our Treatment of Animals and the Holocaust by Charles Patterson, and Dominion: The Power of Man, the Suffering of Animals, and the Call to Mercy by Matthew Scully. Consumed with questions and curious about nutrition, I was thrilled to find Becoming Vegan by Brenda Davis and Vesanto Melina; eager to cook delicious meals without animal products, I bought my first vegan cookbook: The Peaceful Palate by Jennifer Raymond. Full of simple recipes with recognizable ingredients, that cookbook became a mainstay for me and had a great influence on how I ate and cooked, especially in the beginning of my vegan journey. (The first books we read when we become vegan become such an intimate part of our story and a special part of our hearts, which is why I take it very seriously and am so moved when people tell me that my cookbooks were the first ones they ever bought.)
It was 1999 when I became vegan, and bookstores weren’t exactly brimming with vegan and vegetarian cookbooks, but I managed to find a few others that are still in my collection, such as Tofu Cookery by Louise Hagler, How It All Vegan by Tanya Barnard and Sarah Kramer, and of course Joanne Stepaniak’s classic, Vegan Vittles. Having been raised on typical, bland American cuisine, I had a limited palate when it came to flavors and seasonings, but becoming vegan broadened my options and expanded my tastes; as a result, my affinity for international cuisine increased, as did my variety of cookbooks. The Enlightened Kitchen by Mari Fujii was my first foray into traditional Japanese cuisine, The Mediterranean Vegan Kitchen and Vegan Italiano by Donna Klein helped me hone my Italian culinary skills, and Robin Robertson’s Vegan Planet featured delicious recipes from around the world.
Podcasts were nonexistent then, but I do remember buying an audiotape of a keynote address by PETA president Ingrid Newkirk called “Speaking Up for Animals,” and I must have listened to it a dozen times in the first several months I had it. When animal advocate and then-PETA staffer Bruce Friedrich made an audiotape called “Vegetarianism in a Nutshell” a couple years later, I listened until I had it memorized. At the time, there weren’t a lot of documentary films available to watch, but I remember being thrilled to discover that Diet for a New America had been made into a documentary for public television—in 1991—and was able to find the VHS tape! (Yes, I realize I’m dating myself.) Ditto A Cow at My Table, which was a feature-length documentary film released the same year I went vegan. Meet Your Meat, a short film composed of scenes of animal slaughter from typical slaughterhouses, narrated by Alec Baldwin and produced by PETA, was not only something I watched a number of times, it was also the primary tool I used to help others bear witness. Tribe of Heart’s film The Witness, which came out just a year after I went vegan, is the story of a builder turned animal advocate who rigs up his construction van with television screens to broadcast undercover footage of animals on fur farms. No doubt this film was the beginning of a new type of advocacy whereby undercover video footage is presented on screens in public places for passersby to watch and, in fact, it became one of my primary tools of advocacy after seeing this movie two decades ago (see Stage Nine: Finding Your Place). Inspired by other advocates doing the same, I started hosting my own “street TV” exhibits on public sidewalks in nearby towns. I bought a combination TV/VHS player, hit the streets, and screened a loop of Meet Your Meat every Friday night while handing out copies of the pamphlet Why Vegan? I watched people have their own epiphanies and heard them ask the same questions we all do once we know: How can this be happening? How is this real?
Prior to this point in our journey, many of us have already seen or heard something that compels us to change (like watching a video or seeing a news broadcast), but once we do—once we become vegan—we want to see more, we want to know more, and we can’t stop staring. We feel we owe it to ourselves. We feel we owe it to the animals. And we do. It’s for this reason that bearing witness, consuming information, and validating why we became vegan in the first place should remain part of our journey—even after we become vegan, and whether we become vegan for health or ethics.
Once we become vegan, we want to see more, we want to know more, and we can’t stop staring. We feel we owe it to ourselves. We feel we owe it to the animals. And we do.
To reiterate, none of these “stages” are mandatory. You don’t have to voraciously consume information at this point, but it’s very likely that you will feel compelled to. In fact, this is often when people who have become vegan for health reasons feel comfortable enough looking further into the ethics of veganism. No longer participating in the consumption of animals and thus relieved of any pangs of guilt, they often feel they have the mental and emotional capacity to learn more about what happens to animals—something they most likely avoided when they were still eating meat, dairy, and eggs. Similarly, people who become vegan for the animals initially tend to consume transitional foods such as vegan meats, cheeses, and eggs voraciously, almost as if making up for all the foods they thought they wouldn’t be able to eat once they became vegan. Over time, however, they often begin learning more about the health benefits of incorporating more whole foods into their diet.
When it comes to witnessing what animals endure for our pleasure, profit, and palates, it’s incredibly powerful, effective, and necessary to do so, but take heed: I’m not suggesting that we watch videos and read books to the point where we become despondent. I don’t advocate masochism. I’m not saying we need to bear witness every day—or even every week. I’m also not saying that we should bear witness when we’re already feeling low, hopeless, sad, or depressed. We need to pay attention to how we’re feeling at the moment we choose to watch a video, look at a photo, or read an exposé of animal abuse, but I do believe that doing so now and again will remind us of what is so easily forgotten and so intentionally hidden from our sight. It also connects us with why we woke up in the first place.
Some people feel they don’t need to be reminded about how bad things are—that once they go through their transformation it’s unnecessary to ever have to look again. That may indeed be the case for some people, especially those of us who already have a supportive community and are surrounded by like-minded people who buttress our resolve. But, as I have said and will continue to emphasize: being vegan/being awake is a journey, not a destination. It’s also not linear. We don’t start at Stage One and end at Stage Ten with a certificate of completion. That’s exactly the danger I would warn against; there is no end point. In other words, being awake doesn’t mean you’re immune from ever going back to sleep. You can absolutely fall asleep again, and that’s why I recommend revisiting this stage—Bearing Witness—every so often. This will happen naturally if you’re subscribed to mailing lists of vegan organizations, reading vegan blogs, or following animal advocates on social media, but even if you’ve read everything related to veganism and animal rights and have watched every documentary that’s been made up to this point, don’t ever stop. Read more. Watch more. Seek out more information. You may need to wait six months or a year before doing so, but never stop learning, never stop questioning. Whether you’ve been vegan for two years, five years, ten years, or more, never stop growing and challenging yourself—even if it stings a little. If we don’t bear witness every so often, we risk forgetting. We risk losing our foundation, which could potentially lead us back to willful blindness.
Being awake doesn’t mean you’re immune from ever going back to sleep. If we don’t bear witness every so often, we risk forgetting.
How often you bear witness is up to you, but whenever you do, I highly recommend creating a plan in advance for coping with the distress of seeing graphic images or reading disturbing accounts of animal suffering. It can indeed be traumatic to see or hear about animals being tortured and killed, which is why most of us avoid it in the first place, so when exposing yourself to stories or images of animal exploitation and abuse, it’s best to have a wellness plan in place first. Here are some suggestions for such a plan:
Watch a video or read a book along with someone you love and trust.
Have hankies close at hand.
Let yourself cry.
Let yourself feel whatever it is you’re feeling—anger, despair, shock, sadness.
Spend a few minutes writing down your thoughts, feelings, and reactions right after you consume the information. Bearing witness can be painful, but it can also be cathartic and even constructive. You might wind up writing an op-ed or a letter to the editor based on what you’ve seen or read. You might write a post for your blog or social media feeds. You might decide to contact your legislators because of something you’ve learned. Use the time just after bearing witness to honor your feelings and also to express them in a constructive way.
I’d like to say that we always have agency in our lives to pick and choose what information we consume, but it’s not uncommon to unwittingly come across an unsettling image or story while we’re browsing the internet or for one to inadvertently pop up while we’re scrolling through social media feeds. It can be jarring, to say the least. Create a plan for these occasions as well. Take a breath. Shed a tear. Scroll away. You can even hide the photo or unfollow the person who posted it. You’re not betraying animals by being discerning about when and where you want to bear witness.
AVOIDING BURNOUT
Some vegans feel they need to bear witness to the realities of animal abuse again and again and again as a testament to how much they care. But this is a sentiment (often an unconscious one) that borders on martyrdom—which is neither a sustainable nor a joyful way to live. While an enthusiastic desire to consume new information is a helpful and necessary part of this journey, voracious overconsumption of and prolonged exposure to distressing situations can create its own set of problems, namely a condition that has been called “compassion fatigue.” First used to refer to the burnout that nurses, therapists, veterinarians, and others in healthcare experience as they’re exposed to protracted traumatic work scenarios, it’s a term often used synonymously with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) or secondary traumatic stress (STS). Characterized by a gradual lessening of compassion over time, compassion fatigue can happen to people who are trying to help those in distress. “It is an extreme state of tension and preoccupation with the suffering of those being helped,” says Dr. Charles Figley of Tulane University, “to the degree that it can create a secondary traumatic stress for the helper.”14 Sufferers can exhibit a variety of symptoms including a sense of helplessness, powerlessness, guilt, or hopelessness; a decrease in experiences of pleasure; constant stress and anxiety; extreme sadness or depression; insomnia or nightmares; hypersensitivity; and a pervasive negative attitude. Those experiencing compassion fatigue tend to harbor anger, which leads to despair, which can lead to isolation, cynicism, substance abuse, and other forms of self-harm.
Truth be told, I don’t like the term “compassion fatigue.” I don’t believe it is compassion that fatigues us, and I don’t believe that we could ever have so much compassion that it would result in exhaustion, but I do believe that we can experience empathic overarousal or empathic distress, terms that are increasingly used by those who study burnout and that I think more accurately characterize exactly what is taking place. Empathy is important for understanding others’ emotions, but feeling empathy can also be painful. “When we share the suffering of others too much, our negative emotions increase. It carries the danger of an emotional burnout,” says Olga Klimecki, a researcher who led and published a study that demonstrates how honing our own compassion skills results in a greater ability to cope with trauma and distress.15
In other words, empathic distress is the problem. Compassion is the remedy.
The research team that conducted the study sent participants to a one-day loving-kindness meditation class as a way of cultivating their compassion skills and found that as a result, the study subjects were better able to experience “resilience and approach stressful situations with more positive affect.” It’s not that negative emotions disappeared after the loving-kindness training but that the participants were less likely to feel distressed themselves. “Compassion is a good antidote [to empathic distress],” says Klimecki. “It allows us to connect to others’ suffering, without being too distressed.”16 Creating a plan for cultivating compassion in your own life—whether you bear witness a little or a lot—will go a long way in both preventing and healing from empathic distress. (Social support is also key for reducing empathic distress, so be sure to maintain a community and diverse network of support. See Stage Six—Finding Your Tribe—for more.)
Empathic distress is the problem. Compassion is the remedy.
The loving-kindness practice the researchers chose for their subjects is an ancient method for developing compassion. It comes from the Buddhist tradition, but it can be adapted and practiced by anyone, regardless of religious affiliation. Creating a daily loving-kindness practice can be invaluable, especially if you’re dealing with primary trauma stress—if you participate in direct animal rescue, witness animal abuse, work in an animal medical clinic or emergency hospital, or if you work undercover in some type of animal exploitation facility—but it is also essential if you’re dealing with secondary trauma stress: the emotional duress you experience when you see or hear about the firsthand trauma experiences of another. You may experience secondary trauma if you film or edit videos of animal abuse; if you work on legislation or litigation where you’re exposed to visual and auditory accounts of animal neglect and abuse; or if you read, watch, or listen to anything related to animal suffering. In other words, a mindfulness practice will benefit anyone and everyone who wants to deepen their compassion and strengthen their ability to deal with stress, especially stress that can come from being awake in a world that is sleeping. The basic idea is to extend feelings of warmth and compassion in three or four phrases that are repeated throughout a single sitting period. There are no rules, and you can sit for fifteen minutes or fifty, but the more you practice, the more you will benefit. I’ve included a traditional recitation I’ve been using for years on page 81, but you can create or find one of your own.
TOO MUCH OF A GOOD THING?
While empathic distress is a bigger risk for “ethical vegans” who voraciously consume information related to animal suffering, there are also pitfalls at this stage for those who voraciously consume information related to the nutritional benefits of plant consumption and become so fixated on eating healthfully that it becomes an obsession. Reading labels, being mindful of ingredients, and choosing whole foods over processed products are not pathological behaviors in and of themselves; having been conditioned to believe that animal products were essential for optimal health, many of us are eager to make up for lost time. But when you become preoccupied with the purity of the food you eat, when fear dictates the foods you choose and those you avoid, when you obsess over the latest research about superfoods, when you demonize whole categories of foods, and when you think that a whole foods plant-based diet is a cure-all for every ailment and disease, the desire for optimal wellness can turn into disordered eating patterns.
In 1997, a medical doctor coined the term orthorexia nervosa to describe the obsession with healthy eating he had seen in several of his patients. Built from the Greek ortho meaning “straight, correct” and orexis meaning “appetite, diet,” it translates to “a fixation on righteous or correct eating.” Orthorexia nervosa is not an official medical or psychological diagnosis, and I’m reluctant to use the term lest it sound like I’m pathologizing healthy eating. After all, healthy eating isn’t exactly most people’s problem; unhealthy eating is. The most preventable killers in industrialized countries are those that have been coined the diseases of affluence—atherosclerosis (hardening of the arteries, which leads to heart disease and stroke), cancer, and diabetes—and all are linked to the consumption of meat, dairy, and eggs. Recent research from the Journal of the American Medical Association concluded that diets high in meat and other animal-based protein were associated with a higher risk of premature death, and diets high in plant-based proteins, such as nuts, legumes, and beans, were associated with a lower risk of premature death. Eating more healthfully is a solution—not a problem.
There is a line between being health-conscious and being health-obsessed, and it seems to rest somewhere between wanting to eat what’s healthy and being anxious about eating only what’s “pure.”
That said, I do think some people can turn the desire for optimal wellness into an obsession. In fact, because orthorexia has less to do with self-esteem and poor body image than with fear of illness and poor health, some experts classify it as a form of OCD (obsessive-compulsive disorder) and say it’s seen more prevalently in type-A personalities—people who tend to be more controlling, competitive, and self-critical. There is a line between being health-conscious and being health-obsessed, and it seems to rest somewhere between wanting to eat what’s healthy and being anxious about eating only what’s perceived as “pure.” People who view food through this lens of perfectionism take the desire to eat well to the extreme, carefully controlling their diet, feeling virtuous for eating only “clean” foods, feeling polluted if they eat something “unclean,” and experiencing anxiety over not being able to eat perfectly all of the time.
To be clear, just because you diet, avoid allergens, honor your food preferences, eat mindfully, or characterize yourself as “plant-based” or “vegan” doesn’t mean you’re unhealthily fixated on gastronomical purity. Nor is that the case if you avoid certain food groups because of allergies or medical conditions such as celiac disease. However, allergies and ailments aside, when it gets to the point that you denounce any recipe and fearfully avoid any dish that contains even trace amounts of oil, sugar, salt, soy, carbohydrates, wheat, gluten, or alcohol, the road to health can look more like drudgery than joy. When the “good foods” list keeps getting shorter and the “bad foods” list keeps growing, when the guidelines become rules, when the rules become unbreakable—it may be time to stop and take stock.
Aside from the psychological distress this type of rigid eating can cause, it can also be socially and personally disruptive, leading to any of the following situations:
avoiding eating out with friends because you’re afraid the restaurant won’t have menu options healthy enough for you
avoiding eating anything made by anyone else because you don’t know exactly what the ingredients are
identifying so strongly with your diet that you avoid associating with others who don’t eat the way you do
avoiding any “processed” food for fear it will make you unhealthy
avoiding common allergens, such as soy or wheat, not because you’re allergic to them, but because you consider them unwholesome
overattributing every physical ailment to something you ate (or didn’t eat) or to something you eat once in a while
flitting from one plant-based diet trend to the next, such as low-fat, high-carb, high-protein, calorie-restriction, fruit-only, water fasts, etc.
feeling virtuous or morally superior to others because of how purely you eat
feeling guilt or self-loathing for not being perfect, especially when you compare yourself to others you think are perfect, such as “influencers” you follow on social media
Rigid eating is seen in many health-conscious communities; it is not specific to those who abstain from animal products. And some people mislabel anyone who eliminates specific foods—including vegans—as being rigid eaters. But it’s important to remember that rigid eating isn’t simply about restricting certain foods; it’s about how an individual adheres to a particular way of eating and the way they use restrictions to foster disordered thinking and behavior around food.
Consuming books, articles, and social media feeds and photos about healthy eating and living can be motivating and inspiring, but it can also lead to feelings of inadequacy and guilt.
I’ve included rigid eating in this first stage—voracious consumption of information—because it is indeed the voracious consumption of nutrition-related information and videos that can contribute to obsessing over being healthy. Consuming books, articles, and social media feeds and photos about healthy eating and living can be motivating and inspiring, but it can also lead to feelings of inadequacy and guilt. Continuously scrolling through picture after picture of perfectly toned, barely dressed, mango-eating, smoothie-drinking men and women flexing their muscles or stretching their limbs in downward facing dog is enough to make the most self-confident feel self-critical. Healthful living has become a competitive sport in its own right, as we track the calories we eat, the steps we walk, the miles we run, and the calories we burn as a matter of course and, for some, a matter of control.
Just as overconsuming information related to animal exploitation can lead to anxiety and burnout, so too can obsessing about being healthy. While neither is beneficial in terms of long-term happiness and well-being, there is evidence to suggest that individuals in the latter group may be at a greater risk of recidivism than those in the former. A study published in the journal Appetite on the “differences between health and ethical vegetarians” found that people who are vegetarian for ethical reasons are more likely to remain vegetarian than people who go vegetarian for health reasons.17 Is it because ethics are a stronger motivator than health? Is it because “ethical vegetarians” (and vegans) are more aware of animal suffering? Is it because “health vegans” don’t see veganism as part of their identity (see Stage Six)? We don’t know for sure, but having a rigid view of what constitutes healthy eating may be one reason.
Two possible explanations for self-described “health vegans” returning to eating meat, dairy, or eggs are eating a calorically restrictive diet and having unreasonable expectations about the healing power of plant foods. Another study in Appetite found that health-motivated vegans were less likely to take either vitamin B12 or vitamin D supplements, possibly because they believe that whole plant foods are a superior source of essential nutrients and that supplements are artificial and thus “impure.” If that’s true, it may place health-motivated vegans at higher risk for nutrient deficiencies, and it may also be the reason they return to eating meat, dairy, or eggs (and feel better once they do). It’s not that eating a whole foods plant-based diet isn’t optimal in terms of health and wellness, and of course no reputable doctor would recommend substituting dietary supplements for healthy plant foods, but nutrient deficiencies can be caused by any number of factors (hormones, stress, malabsorption, digestive issues) and may not always be remedied by whole foods alone. (In other words, supplements may help.) The bottom line is if you expect veganism to be a panacea for all your health issues, you’re more likely to attribute any new hard-to-diagnose ailment or possible nutrient-related deficiency to the fact that you’ve stopped eating meat, dairy, and eggs. Add to that obsessive googling, getting nutrition advice from the unaccredited University of YouTube, and following ex-vegans on social media, and chances are you’ll stop being vegan.
Taking charge of your own health isn’t inherently bad, but when speculation supplants science and diet trends take precedence over common sense, being your own diagnostician can be a slippery slope. If you become convinced that it’s more “natural” to get your omega-3 fatty acids from eggs or fish rather than from a supplement (even though, these days, egg-laying hens and farm-raised fish get their fatty acids from supplements added to their feed), you’re likely to start eating eggs and fish again. You may even feel better once you do so. It’s possible, however, that you would have also felt better if you took omega-3 supplements made from algae (the origin of omega-3 fatty acids) while continuing to eat a whole foods plant-based diet. The same applies to eating a calorically restrictive diet (which many ex-vegans admit to adhering to): if you’re perpetually lethargic, hungry, and unable to concentrate, it may be because you aren’t getting enough fuel (that is, calories) to sustain your energy and mental acuity. If you add meat, dairy, and eggs back into your diet—and thus more calories—you will most likely feel more energetic, satiated, and clear-headed. It’s possible, however, that you would have felt just as energetic, satiated, and clear-headed if you just ate more calorie-dense plant foods.
When speculation supplants science and diet trends take precedence over common sense, being your own diagnostician can be a slippery slope.
Eating enough calories, having reasonable expectations about the healing power of food, and redefining what healthy eating looks like are just a few of the ways to counteract the negative effects of overconsuming health-related information and thus feeling the temptation to return to eating meat, dairy, and eggs. Here are some more:
If you’re struggling with disordered eating or depression, low self-esteem, or body image issues around food and eating, consider seeking help from a professional, such as a cognitive behavioral therapist.
Find reliable sources for health information, but keep in mind that even experts don’t have all the answers—including nutritionists, dietitians, naturopaths, acupuncturists, and medical doctors. New studies, data, and research are published all the time, and some will contradict former conclusions. But just because nutrition advice is fluid doesn’t mean there aren’t key foundational concepts that remain constant.
Don’t believe the hype. If something sounds too good to be true, it probably is. Use common sense and have a measured outlook.
Lower your expectations. Plant-based eating/veganism isn’t a cure-all for every ailment. That means you will get sick, have colds, and be susceptible to nutrient deficiencies—just like non-vegans. There are numerous health advantages to treating and preventing those illnesses and deficiencies with plants, but you don’t stop being human when you become vegan. Sometimes additional help (such as supplements) may be needed. It doesn’t mean you’re failing as a vegan; it means you’re accepting that you’re human.
Be discerning. Just as people can have unreasonable expectations of veganism’s ability to prevent all illnesses, they can also over-attribute health issues to plant-based eating. There are so many factors when it comes to wellness: stress, pollutants in the air and water, social relationships, alcohol intake, smoking, sleep, exercise, and many more. Diet is only one component, so if you’re having health issues, take a holistic approach and examine other areas in your life that might be contributing.
Think broadly. When people ask me if a “vegan diet” is healthy, I have to ask them to clarify what a “vegan diet” is. There is a huge spectrum of how to eat vegan, and there are thousands of edible plant foods. Not all of them will agree with you. Not eating meat, dairy, and eggs leaves open hundreds of possibilities of what and how to eat, so if you’re eating one way as a vegan and feel you need to make changes, then make changes within the context of remaining vegan. You don’t have to throw out the baby with the bathwater if something isn’t working for you. Maybe you need more plant protein or iron or calories. Maybe you need more sleep, exercise, sunlight, or micronutrients. All of that can be achieved without eating animal products. You may be sensitive or allergic to a particular food. You may feel better when you eat at particular times of the day. You’re not a failure if you don’t like beans, or they make you feel bloated or break out. By the same token, if you discover you’re allergic to strawberries, that doesn’t mean you need to drink cow’s milk. You may just need some time, some adjustments, and possibly some medical or nutritional advice and support.
Incorporate some kind of mindfulness practice into your life, such as the Loving-Kindness Meditation recommended on page 81.*
Practice mindful eating, which is all about having a positive relationship with food—eating with full attention and awareness and savoring with all your senses every bite you eat.
Consider taking a moment before you eat to express gratitude. Just taking a moment to give “thanks” is a form of mindfulness. Do it silently or say it out loud, but speak from the heart. Something I say each night before my husband and I eat is: “We’re grateful for the food in front of us, the love between us, the roof above us, and the animals among us.” Feel free to use this, or create your own.
Bearing witness takes courage, but it also requires self-honesty: knowing how much you’re able to bear before becoming distressed. It means looking without staring, participating without dwelling, caring without becoming a martyr. Bearing witness takes strength, but it also requires self-regulation, including choosing to stop participating in what causes the distress in the first place, as needed. This may mean taking a break from the kind of intense activism that requires exposure to violence against animals, whether in person or through visual media. It might mean taking a break from reading health blogs while working toward having a more relaxed relationship with food and eating. Self-compassion means creating boundaries, taking a break, keeping expectations in check, and developing stress-reduction practices such as these ten, which have been scientifically and historically proven to be effective:
Bearing witness takes courage, but it also means looking without staring, participating without dwelling, caring without becoming a martyr.
1.meditation
2.deep breathing exercises
3.sharing your emotions with trusted loved ones
4.muscle massages
5.laughter
6.guided imagery (of soothing scenes or animals)
7.soothing music
8.physical exercise (running, walking, yoga, etc.)
9.repetitive mantras or prayers
10.making a gratitude list
While any and all of these strategies can be implemented in response to the tension and trauma of bearing witness, they will be more effective if they’re part of your regular routine. Incorporating stress management into your daily regimen will make you more resilient and less likely to burn out or give up in the first place.
Loving-Kindness Meditation
The original name of this practice is metta bhavana, which comes from Pali, a language native to the Indian subcontinent and widely used in Buddhist scriptures. Metta means “love” (in the nonromantic sense), benevolence, or kindness: hence loving-kindness, for short. Bhavana means cultivation or development. It’s often referred to simply as metta meditation or loving-kindness meditation.
The most common form of this practice unfolds in five stages. Because it’s essential that you have compassion for yourself in order to have it for others, it begins with ourselves, shifts to focus on specific people, then extends outward to include all living beings. Gradually, both the visualization and the repetition of four simple phrases combine to create a feeling of loving-kindness. The more you practice, the more loving-kindness you cultivate.
Take at least three to five minutes for each category.
Yourself
Sit in a comfortable, relaxed position. Close your eyes, breathe naturally, focus your attention on your heart (and perhaps place one or both hands on your heart), and recite silently to yourself:
May you be happy.
May you be safe.
May you be free of suffering and sorrow.
May you be at peace.
You can modify the words to those that most open you up to giving and receiving compassion. Repeat several times, letting the words penetrate your heart and mind and experiencing the sensation of loving-kindness throughout your body.
A loved one
Next, picture someone who is close to you, someone you feel comfortable being around, someone you feel a great amount of affection for—a loved one, an animal, a dear friend. Notice how it feels to think of them. Perhaps you feel a sensation of warmth, joy, and tenderness. Imagine these feelings filling every cell of your body, and while you’re imagining your loved one sitting in front of you, extend those sensations to them—from your heart to theirs. Silently repeat:
May you be happy.
May you be safe.
May you be free of suffering and sorrow.
May you be at peace.
Continue repeating these phrases to yourself silently, all the while imagining those sensations of warmth, joy, and tenderness projecting from your heart to theirs.
An acquaintance
Next, visualize someone you don’t know very well—someone you neither strongly like nor dislike, but who you see in your daily life, such as a neighbor or coworker or classmate you’re not familiar with, a store clerk, mail carrier, or a stranger you pass on the street. See them in your mind’s eye. Although you don’t know them very well, imagine how this person may suffer in his or her own life. Perhaps they have conflicts with loved ones or struggle with an addiction or illness, or have been the victim of trauma, violence, or loss. Imagine a situation in which this person may have suffered. Pay attention to the sensation in your heart. Perhaps you feel warmth, openness, or tenderness. Allow these feelings to fill every cell of your body, and while imagining this person sitting in front of you, extend these sensations to them as you silently repeat:
May you be happy.
May you be safe.
May you be free of suffering and sorrow.
May you be at peace.
A foe
Next, visualize someone you have difficulty with in your life or in the world. This may be a parent you disagree with, an ex-partner or friend, a coworker you don’t get along with, an animal abuser you read about, a slaughterhouse worker, or a hunter. Although you may have negative feelings toward this person, think of how this person may have suffered in their own life.
Contemplate the fact that this person has had conflicts with loved ones or has suffered illness, abuse, trauma, or loss. Think of a situation in which this person may have suffered. Now, bring your attention to your own heart. Imagine this person sitting in front of you as compassion wells up in your heart. Extend it to theirs. This may be difficult to do. Simply be aware of the sensations you feel. Perhaps it’s warmth, openness, or tenderness. Perhaps you feel sadness, anger, or an aching sensation. Just be aware of these sensations, and imagine compassion in your heart filling up and extending to their heart. Imagine that compassion imbued with warmth and joy, peace and tenderness; imagine that it is easing their suffering.
Silently recite and repeat several times:
May you be happy.
May you be safe.
May you be free of suffering and sorrow.
May you be at peace.
All beings
Now direct your loving-kindness toward everyone—yourself, the loved one, the acquaintance, the foe, the animals, everyone. Recite and repeat several times:
May all beings everywhere be happy.
May all beings everywhere be safe.
May all beings everywhere be free of suffering and sorrow.
May all beings everywhere be at peace.
You may linger on each section for as long or as short as you like, but even a few minutes combined can make a difference. Fifteen to twenty minutes is a typical length of time for a loving-kindness meditation, but one study showed that even just a single seven-minute loving-kindness meditation “made people feel more connected to and positive about both loved ones and total strangers, and more accepting of themselves.”18 Imagine what a regular practice could do! And you don’t have to be sitting down with your eyes closed to practice it. Sometimes, when I’m just outside walking around in a public place, I silently repeat the meditation’s phrases to each person I see: May you be happy. May you be safe. May you be free of suffering and sorrow. May you be at peace. I repeat them silently to passersby, to store clerks, to little critters I see, or to folks who look like they could really use a dose of compassion. It may not change them, but it certainly changes me.
*For more on eating mindfully as a vegan, check out Lani Muelrath’s book, The Mindful Vegan.