Hi Open,

Gosh, it seems like we're right there on the same page today, I hadn't read your post when the below happened.

I seem to have worked through an example of this, just this morning. I went for a stroll on the beach at 7am and there were two fishermen there each with two rods set on tripods and lines strung out into the incoming tide. I felt repulsed, as I recalled a few weeks ago walking along the tidal edge and seeing 7 dead dog fish, between 30 and 45cm long, at various intervals along a half mile stretch. I had known they were mostly likely caused by fishermen. Staying open, I said "Good morning" as I passed and received a good natured reply.

I walked down the shoreline, knowing that I had to somehow express the jumble of thoughts and feelings I was having; "Not everyone's vegan; they're out in nature in the fresh air; looks like they're enjoying connecting with the sea; they could be sat on the sofa on a computer game.... but what about the needless loss of life? Do they even think about that? As I walked further I found a dead eel about 60cm long. It was directly under the place on the promenade where I saw someone fishing late last night. I looked at the fish, it looked almost alive and vibrant, one eye firmly on me. what a magnificent little being had left "too soon", yet it seemed there so we would meet. I laid a tiny fluffy white feather across it's chest and paid my respects. The tide was coimg in rapidly, I needed to turn back - there in the distance were the same fishermen. I knew I had to confront the moment, even though part of me would rather not: Would it turn into a slanging match? I hoped not.

As I walked back I knew the key was to be non judgemental, after all they don't have to think the way I do, everyone has a right to be on the beach, I just personally wish fish didn't have to die for it. One fisherman looked in his element, reeling something in, I couldn't help thinking "I hope its a clump of seaweed". The other one was searching in his box of fishing gear. I approached him, "There's an eel back there, about two foot long. I just wondered how it died, is it because it got thrown back in but can't survive?" There was absolutely no judgement or retraction on my part, just a genuine question, to which he knows the answer. We had an affable exchange without tension, and he replied, "Some of them aren't as careful as they should be, when they fish off the top there and throw the fish down, they hit the rocks."

"So nobody keeps what they catch then?" "Depends on the person and nationality, other nationalities eat things we don't eat because they smell of ammonia or have mud in them." Me: "Oh, that explains the seven fish I saw a few weeks ago, they were all spread out in a line." "That would be dog fish," he said, "when you put them back in they tend to come back to the shore, stupid things"- "Too traumatised to swim out" said I, looking out to sea, but without any accusation, or retraction. "The dog fish get on your line before the ones you want." "Oh, really, what do you want?" "the smooth hounds." "Oh, I've never heard of them, why do you want them? With an excited grin, twinkling eyes and passions roused, he replied: "They're little sharks - they give you the best fight of anything you can catch from the shore." It was like I was pole-axed down through my core. I stood, motionless on the outside seeing nothing and saying nothing, just feeling. Not a flicker of the eye not a sharp intake of breath, as I let what he had said land: So the fish die because people want to enjoy the sense of a fight. That's what it's all about. An energetic depth charge called "aghast" travelled down my spine and landed in my heart. Maybe only a few seconds in time, but it changed everything. He walked back to his rod. I called, "Thanks for the chat" and walked on.

It felt incredibly satisfactory: I didn't avoid anything, I genuinely experienced being completely non-judgmental even when I felt shock landing, it was fully contained within me and did not at all project outwards. My response was purely internal in a way I don't recall experiencing before.

Then my realisation that he empathically felt it too, was just like gold dust. A new way of communicating without lecturing, imploring or polarising. He got chance to literally feel how I feel about pointless slaughter and I got chance to see the spark of reptilian heritage as the root of his passion. How could I judge him?

Tilly 💙