Choosing the Perfect Thanksgiving Turkey

Chosen with great care to be the center of the Thanksgiving celebration of gratitude, Mr. T. came into my life.  As I unwrapped his body, I thought about the life that this turkey had lived.  He was a free range bird, organic and non-GMO. I envisioned him puffing up his body, and unfurling his tail to make himself look manly and strong to impress the ladies.  I watched this behavior in Colorado as our flock of wild turkeys had done their mating dance every year.

Guilt Sets In

Mr. T. I named him as I prepared him for our feast.  I felt a few pangs of guilt as I remembered my unsuccessful four-year attempt to become vegetarian. I never felt grounded or in my body and finally resorted back to eating animal flesh with new found guilt.

Blessing Mr. T. and acknowledging the fact that he had been a living, breathing animal on this planet at one time, I pulled some odd looking parts from the cavern that had been his body; the gizzard, to grind up the food in the absence of teeth, the liver to remove impurities from the body, the long skinny neck and of course the heart…the heart, the all knowing heart. There is now evidence that the human heart has replaced the thought that the brain was the organ of intelligence. This most likely also true for turkeys. As I held Mr. T’s heart in my hand, I felt deep sadness wondering if he knew at some point that he would become a Thanksgiving Day dinner

Tuning into The Turkey Energy

Feeling an affinity for his spirit and his being, I remembered the wild turkeys flying up into the Ponderosa pines and gobbling back and forth to each other at dusk reminiscent of “Goodnight John Boy.”  I wondered if Mr. T’s friends missed him once he was taken from his home. I was not certain that I would be a able to actually consume any of the flesh from this bird that I now felt a deep connection to.

Releasing the Guilt

For five and one half hours Mr. T. roasted in my oven. As my entire home filled with his scent, he began to look very food-like, no longer resembling much the bird that was strutting around in my day dreams.

My home filled with love and happiness as twenty guests arrived.  Presenting my beautiful golden entree to my friends, we stood, hand in hand and I said the blessing, “Thank you Mr. T for sacrificing your life to give us nutrition at this wonderful gathering of heartfelt souls.”

Sitting down, I took a bite and I felt his energy mix with mine. I savored the flavor of my dear friend Mr. T. and blessed the fact that I am a carnivore.