Soul Food

Hello everyone. Welcome.

So here goes. Something I vowed I wouldn’t get involved in, a blog, owing to the fact that I spend too much time hunched in front of a computer already.

However, something has sparked my imagination, and an urge to muse, so indulge me and hopefully you will enjoy what you read.

I have no idea right now whether this will continue, and what form any further entries will take. If it continues, it will be a journey with no map, and no fixed destination. I anticipate that it will meander through curious and perhaps random points that hold my attention, like unexpected rest-stops on a stately road trip, and perhaps, along the way, I will meet and interact with others, friends and strangers alike, leaving them with a little piece of my wisdom or nonsense depending on my mood, and in turn I’ll hope to be entertained and charmed by them. So feel free to hop on board this bus, and hopefully you’ll enjoy this journey with me.

Just this evening, I read something really quite light and amusing that nevertheless sent me on a train of thought that seemed worth following, and which ended in quite a profound place. I’d like to share it with you.

My friend Daniela posted a link to an article about the phenomenon of nonnutritive animal intoxication. In simple terms, a neuroscientist has recently published a book in which he claims that intoxication with psychoactive drugs is not an exclusively human proclivity. Animals in the wild will also voluntarily and repeatedly consume psychoactive plants and fungi.

“Extraordinary,” I thought, and I felt compelled to respond to her that when we look at animals we hold a mirror up to ourselves. Certainly, any sustained viewing of natural history programmes on National Geographic attests to this, because we learn that the animal kingdom is so wonderfully complex. Even rudimentary creatures perform more than just rudimentary tasks and actions. They have codes of behaviour, in some cases rituals, and in many cases hierarchies. So in some respects, to learn that some animals, like humans, don’t simply ingest materials for sustenance, should perhaps not be such a surprise.

Nevertheless, the fascinating thing about this theory for me is that it brings the animal and human experiences closer than we might otherwise choose to believe. Whilst, as Alfred Lord Tennyson wrote, nature is “red in tooth and claw,” some animals’ choices are not simply made in order to stay alive. The fact that Siberian reindeer consume the same hallucinogenic mushroom as their herders, with similar intoxicating effects, suggests that they do certain things, like us, for enjoyment, for something more, something higher than just basic functions.

If this is indeed the case, can we not therefore extrapolate that, like us, some animals have a need for something other than just food and shelter and security? If so, could we not surmise that these needs are not spurious, trivial or foolish, but are in fact important and perhaps necessary?

And so my thoughts turned to my dear old dog Oliver, curled up on his cushion, snoozing contentedly in front of the TV, having enjoyed his dinner, because I began to feel that Oliver’s story illustrates this in a different and more profound way. Furthermore, it provides a lesson to us humans, which in the hurly-burly of our daily lives, can sometimes be easy to overlook.

At this point I must digress and tell Ollie’s story.

Whilst walking her dog Ruby in our neighbouring park, Daniela found Ollie abandoned, with no identification and in a bad way. He was skinny, filthy and shivering, with an open sore on his back just above his tail, and a haunted, needy look in his eyes, born of neglect.

Daniela has a very compassionate heart, and when it comes to animals, her compassion knows no bounds. It can even sometimes be difficult to watch her concern for a dog or cat who has lost its owner, knowing that there is little she can do in some cases. So, in meeting Daniela, Ollie got lucky. She saved his life. She took him home with Ruby, cleaned him, fed him and nursed him back to health and happiness, and after just over a year, when she felt it was time to find him a permanent new home, I had grown to love the old boy (he’s ten), and agreed that he should come and live with me.

Consequently, after a hard day’s work, when I need some quiet time, I often find myself watching Ollie intently as he snoozes or nudges me for some strokes and attention, and I can’t help but conclude that this sweet, affectionate mutt isn’t so far removed from me in terms of his hierarchy of needs. That’s where the parallel kicks in with the article I read.

Ollie is a proper bloke. He likes his home comforts, he likes his routine and he loves his food (I’ve never seen anyone, human or beast, gobble up tasty morsels as fast as he does, and I’m a quick eater). He likes to laze around and chill out, and he’s as happy as a sandboy, whatever a sandboy is, that he has a friend to spend his time with and somewhere cozy to rest his head.

Most of these are the elemental functions I mentioned earlier: food, shelter and security. No surprises there. However, the more I look at him and the more I interact with him, the more I understand that, just like those reindeer, and just like us, he has other, more intangible needs that must be satisfied.

No longer does he have the haunted look. His previously cloudy eyes are now bright. He is happy and friendly and his tail wags at a rate that’s almost alarming. Is his happiness just down to the fact that he’s now fed, watered, physically healthy and comfortable, I ask myself.

My conclusion is “No”. Oliver’s happiness is deeper and more extensive than this. He is happy because having lived with Daniela and Ruby and now with me, he has companionship. More than that, he is loved and cared for, and I am sure that he knows it. His happiness has blossomed and his confidence has grown since we have each looked after him. Why? Because he needs it. Because the companionship, care, affection and love that each of us lavish upon him is not just a nice “extra” to the elementals, but is equally as important to him. He is reassured and nourished by them. When he was found, he was almost starving, not just literally, but, as a victim of neglect, in these terms as well.

And here’s the profound bit. So it is with us too. I look at Ollie and reflect that both of us can subsist with the basics, but our lives are so much richer, fuller, more colourful, and simply better, with companionship, affection and love. Neither of us is unique in that way. In fact I’d say we’re pretty typical of each of our species, because these things elevate our lives to something more than mere subsistence. They nourish us, help us grow and improve. They give our lives meaning and make our lives worth living. Surely then this is just a significant and important a need, not only for us humans but for our animal friends as well?

So in closing, I just want to remind you not to forget this. It’s too easy to do. We lead busy lives. We have pressures upon us. Daily obstacles and challenges can anger, disappoint and even hurt us. We rush and push past strangers almost as if they aren’t there and sometimes we take our friends for granted.

Here is the lesson: take a beat. Look around you. Think of those you care about. Nourish them with your consideration, your companionship, your empathy, your respect and your love and they will reciprocate, because these things are food for the soul. There are many exceptional individuals who see this in a “big-picture” way, campaigning for the disenfranchised and neglected of this world on a grand scale. I must confess, I don’t think that big. My charity begins at home, with my friends and my family. Is it any less valuable on this smaller scale? I don’t think so. I have moved from London to Tel Aviv, leaving all my old support structures behind.  The friends that I have made here get me through, and I passionately value and cherish them. I want to help them, support them, listen to them, entertain them and be entertained by them. I want to celebrate and commiserate with them. I want them to know that I can feed their souls with compassion, understanding, love and respect. And yes, in return I want and need the same from them, to feed my soul too.

So here’s a thought. During your busy days, stop and think about the people you care about. Give them a call every so often, even if it’s about nothing in particular, or throw your arms round their shoulders and give them a hug. I appreciate I’m in danger of sounding hippy-dippy. That’s not my intention. I’m realistic enough to know that we can’t do this for everyone, but for we can for those we really value. Sometimes the most affecting, beautiful things are the simplest. So go ahead, simply reach out and let them know you’re there, that you care. In the words of E.M.Forster, "Only connect." If you subscribe to what the neuroscientist said, or if you consider Ollie, we can’t say this is what separates us from the animals, but what we can say is that it enriches us and makes our lives even more wonderful.

There. I warned you I would meander, but I hope I’ve given you a morsel of food for thought, and food for the soul.

Love and respect.