How to be imperfect

Grace for tricky ethics

A couple weeks ago, I wrote my monthly list of recommendations, which I was especially excited about because I had SO much good stuff to share!

I happily hit the ‘publish’ button, caught an episode or two of Golden Girls, then merrily hit the hay, dreaming of the chocolate bunny I gobbled while writing.

And that’s when the emails and messages started coming in.

To paraphrase all of them…

“Temu is an extremely unethical company and it probably wasn’t the best idea to link to it.”

WOOPS.

I haven’t gotten this genre of message in a while, but I wasn’t shocked:

Nothing about the phrase “A Chinese version of Amazon that is cheaper” exactly screams ETHICAL to me! And I’m grateful that my audience includes caring and thoughtful people, who correctly intuit that I share their convictions and want to let me know—thank you!

But I was a little shocked that these messages still activate an overwhelming shame response in me. Whenever I get the hunch that “I did something wrong,” I’m susceptible to the same pit in my stomach I’d get in 2nd grade whenever the teacher called me out for chatting in class.

Plus, I enthusiastically indulge in any opportunity to self-flagellation and staggering guilt (shout out to Church Youth Group!). I’m working on this, because shame will never ever lead to positive action.

So, I got myself together, and remembered why I linked to Temu in the first place:

• It seems like everyone is struggling financially right now. I know many of my recommendations to my dear Blueberries have been expensive, and I wanted to counter that by showcasing accessible, cool stuff.

• I chose to link to the cheap Temu items in the ‘free’ section of my newsletter before the paywall, because I’m making an assumption that non-paying subscribers might appreciate some inexpensive finds :)

• I have a wonderful elderly friend with impeccable taste who lives in affordable housing and worries a lot about money. She reads this newsletter. I was thinking of her, and only of her, when I suggested gorgeous $8 plates that I thought she’d love. Because she is in my direct community, I care more about her than people I’ve never met—a fact that is hard-wired into me as a human, and that I accept.

• I know for a fact that lots of independent boutiques (your faves included) buy their products from Temu and then mark up the price. Furthermore, lots of these same boutiques promote themselves as curators of goods made from “artisans around the world.” As long as they’re going to do that, I would rather you buy directly from the source and save your money.

• Buying a fun cheap crochet top made me really, REALLY happy last month. I’m worried about money right now (like everyone) and I was overjoyed to get a great steal. I’ve been asked a lot where I got it, and wanted others to experience the delight that only a fun cheap crochet top can deliver!

Later on, I felt defensive, leaping straight to a “Well consuming ethically is impossible right now!” mindset. Jumping to rigidity is a really easy defense, but it’s not a very human one.

And whenever writers fire away with extreme words like ‘impossible,’ we only inspire despair. And the moment I throw my hands up and say the word ‘impossible,’ I stop trying. And we should all be trying.

We should be trying really hard!

But consuming ethically IS tricky:

I ordered dozens of socks, underwear, and t-shirts from Temu for migrants in my community. Had I ordered from a source that claims to be much more socially- and environmentally-conscious, I might have donated six pairs of socks rather than 40.

Should I prioritize the needs of people in my direct community, or workers who most likely don’t have any potential for mobility? Obviously, I can do both. But will boycotting Temu help its workers? Is there something more proactive I can do? I don’t know.

Another example:

I’ve been working on a book about animals for the past three years now, which has plunged me into the depths of animal ethics.

Which are—you guessed it—really tricky!

I don’t support hurting or killing animals for any reason (my own gastronomical delight included, and I love meat!), but how about testing on mice for the purpose of cancer research? Would I donate turkeys on Thanksgiving to hungry families in my city? Do I support the Makah Nation’s right to an annual whale hunt that they’ve carried out for centuries? Yes, yes, and yes.

Intention plays a BIG role in ethics. Personal priorities play another huge role.

Other people, shockingly enough, have other priorities. And that can be so hard/annoying!!!!!

And I find my own self so annoying when I willingly turn a blind eye in face of my own priorities and values, just because I want something conveniently and cheaply.

Humans will always find an excuse to go against their values in order to feel good, and it’s a behavior I strongly dislike in myself:

• I’ve linked to recipes using animal products, and I detest the unspeakably cruel meat/dairy industries and their reckless massacring of the environment, plus destruction of lives of the (often underage) people they employ.

• I’ve posted photos of store-bought flowers, which I feel terrible for purchasing when I know the flower industry is brutal. I now prioritize buying local and farmer-grown.

• I casually mention ordering dinner when I know full-well the reality of food delivery drivers in NYC and the tips that back-of-house misses out on.

I’m guessing none of us are perfect consumers unless we live off our sustainably-farmed land in the woods. But then we wouldn’t have connections with people who were different from us, or any opportunities to extend grace.

I’m not terribly interested in discussing consumption ethics here; I’m not an ethicist or responsible-consumption-expert, CLEARLY! :)

But I AM really interested in how we live in a world where consuming perfectly is not realistic, and we have way more access to people’s consuming habits than ever because of our dear friend The Internet.

I am ESPECIALLY interested in how we extend grace to each other and ourselves, while encouraging each other toward goodness.

And I am MOST interested in how we exist together as humans with different priorities and not write off one another for the fact that we are different.

Shall we explore these topics together?!

I took a long walk today through a park, passing all kinds of people who are different from me. Some were delightfully different, like an elated older man covered in pigeons, or the guy whose face was obscured with tattoos and piercings. And some were irritatingly different, like the woman posing earnestly for ten minutes of sultry selfies or the man bragging loudly over FaceTime. (Interesting who we choose to extend grace to…:)

And I thought about the topics listed above. I’m an expert in these topics only insofar as I am an expert in being a woefully flawed human.

I can tell you my findings so far, from a lifetime of messing up, and judging others for doing the same:

Invite your rage to inspire you

Real talk: Whenever I see evidence online that someone (especially someone with influence) has opted to buy a purebred dog or cat rather than rescuing from a shelter…I go positively BONKERS.

My blood boils. I am filled to the brim with rage. I can’t concentrate for the next hour. I pace back and forth muttering swear words to myself.

In MY world, there is no excuse, when millions of sweet souls die in a shelter that is absolute hell for them. I start thinking really awful things like, “How selfish do you have to be?!!!???”

But…we don’t live in my world.

And I know people with (adorable) pets who they bought from a breeder. And these people are not selfish. They’re kind and thoughtful and inspire me in so many ways to be kinder and more thoughtful.

I give my ego a champagne bubble bath by going insane and saying to myself, HOW COULD THEY POSSIBLY DO SOMETHING DIFFERENT THAN I WOULD DO!!??

Then I take a deep breath. If I were to comment on their happy puppy photo, it wouldn’t change a thing. It would only make the new pet owner feel bad, or vengeful.

Thus, I take the opportunity to donate $5 to my local animal shelter. I meditate on or say a prayer for the critters in shelters who are waiting for homes. I surrender and fully feel my anger, which is really grief.

And, I take an action toward a cause I really care about.

By putting a proverbial coin in the ‘Purebred Jar,’ so-to-speak, I’m using levity to soften my rage, and giving a nudge of support in a more positive direction.

Say an onion prayer, or meditation

I don’t think ‘onion prayer’ is its formal name, but it’s a prayer (or meditation, of course) that peels back the layers and layers of everything that has led to this exact moment.

For instance, let’s say you’re consuming a yogurt parfait. Your onion prayer could include:
-the person who made the granola recipe
-the person who invented the granola recipe
-the person who harvested the oats/nuts/maple for the granola
-the person who milked the cow to get the yogurt for the parfait
-the cow who gave her milk for the yogurt
-the person who pasteurized the yogurt for the parfait
-the person who picked the strawberries for the topping
-the person who drove the strawberries from California
-the person who created the cup for the parfait
-the cashier who sold me the parfait

Obviously there are (literal) hundreds more people who were involved in the process of bringing your parfait to you!

If you feel bad about shopping on Amazon not bad enough to still shop on Amazon, it might feel good to spiritually acknowledge every soul involved in the purchase. I also invite you to think also about the independent shops missing out on sales because of these dominating online everything-stores. I even invite you to extend grace toward billionaires; lord knows they could use some spiritual direction.

Speaking of which, support a local store today

I took a couple years off of buying anything from Amazon, or even getting anything delivered from any big box store.

While I’ve become less rigid in my shopping habits, I still make an effort to buy all my groceries, drugstore items, cat supplies, etc etc from local independent stores I’ve chosen to support, rather than ordering online.

I schlep heavy cat litter from an immigrant-owned shop that is a 30-minute walk from my apartment. It is more expensive and much more annoying and the people who work there aren’t even nice, AND it’s a priority for me!

For some reason, I felt fine about buying a marbled mug off Temu. Confusing, right? Yeah, for me, too!!

I don’t know exactly how my little brain works. I don’t know why I heave-sob for an entire day if I accidentally step on an ant, and feel next-to-nothing when I eat a dairy product, aside from enjoyment.

I do know that the life’s work of any creative person is to explore these feelings that don’t make sense, and I hope that I can do some of that, here and in my next book.

Stay in relationship

Whenever I have any ethical quandary whatsoever, I look to my otherworldly friend (and wedding officiant!) Amanda, who is currently serving as (*genius alert!*) Director of Restorative Practices for Engaged Pluralism at Vassar. (I wish she were in charge of the whole world!!)

So I told her about this Temu debacle, and she correctly summarized, “I think you’re talking about our tolerance for disagreement.”

“Like, how we weight or value different qualities in a person. What happens when we allow one quality of a person to subsume the entire person—They voted for BlahBlah so I can no longer speak to them—but we do not do the same on the positive side.”

She went on, “It’s a protective impulse to cancel someone, but we can only get so far with this approach, because we end up isolating ourselves from people (beings) with whom we will at a minimum need to share space and/or negotiate. Do we have enough of the skills for staying in relationship AND disagreeing?”

(I told you she was a genius!)

I’m a preternaturally optimistic person, but I don’t believe we have a shot in the dark at universal peace when we write off any human for one facet of their being.

Recently, I was having a conversation with a friend about a particular moral issue.

He said, assertively:

“I could never be friends with someone who believes such-and-such. We are just fundamentally different people. I’m sure they’re fine, but we can’t have a conversation.”

Here’s the funny part….He is friends with someone who believes such-and-such.

IT’S ME!

And we can have a conversation, because we’re having one right now.

I’m good friends with him, and apparently we are fundamentally different people!

The incredible Amanda has sooo many examples of staying in conversation with people who disagree with her.

She is so good at this, and recognized her beautiful trait in someone else:

“One of my favorite parts of having the peace expert on campus was to see how ready he was to disagree with people and point out where they didn’t align. First he would build trust and affirm their reality and then he would gently say, ‘This is how I (or the facts) diverge from you.’ and then STAY IN THE CONVERSATION with them.”

And I want that for myself!!! I never want to dehumanize or dismiss The Other. That will only lead to more pain.

Many social media memes would have us stop talking to those whose priorities don’t align, but I encourage us all to stay connected on the issues that we care about the most.

(Obviously these convos are far more triggering for some than they are for others, and I trust anyone reading this to determine their own boundaries. It is always okay to say, ‘We’re not going to see eye-to-eye on this’ and send someone on their way! As a white middle-class writer-lady, I’m emotionally-equipped for a lot of tough conversations!)

The emails I received were examples of this.

None of them said, “I’m going to unsubscribe to your newsletter.”

They just wanted more from me, and were going to keep cheering me on!

I appreciated that more than I can say. Not only did they inform me of something I might have missed (which I always gladly accept!), but they guaranteed they would stick around.

This is grace at its finest.

The emails made me think about the times I have easily and casually written-off people who don’t consume the way I would. I am overwhelmed with gratitude for the pensiveness of strangers who inspired me to dwell in the mystery…

They wanted more from me, and they weren’t done with me.

“I am learning,” I say every night to myself.

And, the past couple weeks, I’ve received the message that, “She is learning.”

I doubt anyone ever sends these emails with the stance that, “I am perfect and need to correct this imperfect creature!”

I believe they send emails from a place of “We’re all figuring this out, and here’s some info to guide you on your way to figuring it out.”

I so appreciate it. And I can guarantee you I will continue to be extremely imperfect. But I can also guarantee you that I will continue to explore what it’s like to be human on this earth at this time. And if you’re down for that, I’m enormously grateful you are here.

PS. TWO WRITING RETREATS COMING UP: One in North Carolina, one in Wyoming. It’s going to be the best. See you there :)