There
are many reasons why people choose to hunt for their own meat versus buying it
at the store.
Common themes are that wild game is as organic as you can get,
the cost of wild game is free (we’ll get into that perspective at another time)
and one of the most quoted is that “I like to take responsibility for what I
take from the earth.”
These are all great reasons.
Mine is
one less quoted but considerably older in theory.
Many of
us have stated that we see hunting as “religion” and received queer looks from
those who do not see the sanctity of killing. I have heard some claim, with a
twisted grin on their face, that they belong to the “church of the straight
powder” as they head off to the club to shoot sporting clays on Sunday.
But for
me it goes much deeper.
I was
raised in an organized religion that did not serve my evolving values. I looked
for a faith that would incorporate my relationship to the outdoors,
specifically animals and wild edibles. I sought a connection to what I put in
my body and how I nourished it.
After
investigating several religions I was dismayed and lost faith in the churches.
Which left me with nothing but the reality of nature’s raw power. I recognized
that no man, no matter how rich or powerful he might be in society, was any greater
than any other man facing the same need to survive in the wild.
One
evening I sat on the shore of our lake, Lake Champlain, in Vermont, as 6 foot
waves from a powerful Northwest wind swept over the rocks and smashed into a
rock tower that had been built eons ago by Native Americans. No one would
survive the crushing waves no matter who they were – not Donald Trump, not the
President of the United States, nor any leader of any faith, if they did not
respect the awesome power of nature. But behind that rock tower, I sat, my
heart aching for connection to this entity that deserved such deep respect. It
was the rocks that kept me from getting crushed by the waves. It was one
component of nature protecting me from another.
As I sat
in the darkness, feeling the waves hit all around me, I reached an epiphany.
It was
nature that would become my Higher Power, my God, my Savior…my Great Spirit.
I began
to study Native American belief systems, the Hopi, the Abnaki, the Cree, and
the Inuit. All of them had two things in common. No leader that “interpreted
God’s word” and a deep connection to their animals, land and habitat.
Sacred
rituals were handed down through elders to those ready to receive them. Animals
were seen as brothers and sisters of the same spirit.
Time
warp forward; one of the prime rules of physics (that being the highest
expression of mankind’s intellectual rationalizations of how the universe actually
works) is the “Law of Conservation of Energy” which states that “energy cannot
be created or destroyed. It can only be changed from one form to another.”
Posit:
if energy can be expressed or “seen” as beauty, grace, balance or innocence,
and a whitetail deer possesses that energy, what happens to it when I “kill”
the animal? Is the energy that is stored in the muscle and tissue still alive?
If I eat
the muscle, where does the energy go?
If I
consume the spirit of my brother deer, goose or turkey, where does their power
of observation go?
After
reading “Seven Arrows” by Hyemeyohosts
Storm, I chose to believe that it entered me. As the mouse that is consumed
by the eagle gains the visual attributes of the eagle, I have chosen to believe
that when I consume the flesh of my brother, the goose, I gain the power of
communication with my peers and learn cooperation with others to form groups
that rely on each other to assist in our flight.
In
summary, I hunt to provide myself and my loved ones with a spiritual connection
to our food, be it wild asparagus, fiddleheads or venison. I have chosen to make
hunting, fishing and foraging my spiritual practice.
I still
find myself buying meat and vegetables in the grocery store or at a farmer’s
market, and I choose to give thanks to the animals and flora that give their
lives that I might continue mine. But, just as the Jewish religion pursues
their faith in food by seeking kosher meats, I pursue my own faith by seeking
the energy of my brothers and sisters in the wild.
To each
his own.
