To eat or not to eat

A debate's going on inside my friend Anmi. After learning recently she has severe anemia, a diagnosis that explains all sorts of symptoms that have troubled her, she has now to boost her iron levels as quickly as possible. But two voices are speaking in her. One, speaking on behalf of her body and its possible recovery to vigorous health, urges the consumption of red meat, any kind, in addition to iron supplements. The other, championing her moral sensibility, says not just any meat will do but that grass-fed, and not juiced with hormones or antibiotics. Indeed, her repugnance to 'factory farm' meat is deep and visceral. Unfortunately supplements alone may not boost her iron as quickly or surely as she'd like. Equally unfortunately, acceptable beef of this description is, as every one knows, very expensive.

This internal encounter is like the meeting of an irresistible object and an immovable object. That, of course, is a philosophical word game, but we do sometimes find ourselves on the horns of a dilemma, and any proposed tertium quid seems distinctly unpalatable, seen by each side as a betrayal. We take one side of the inner stife, and the opposing side seems like an alien, an Other trying to make untrue to our deepest selves. Then we stand on the other side and see the same. Neither of Anmi's positions is ridiculous nor unreasonable. Anmi herself is at once a partisan and referee, itself a situation of conflict. 

What I wonder is how hospitality, friendship or exploration apply to this encounter of confrontation. The ultimate loyalty of each side should be to the fullness of Anmi herself, that is, the integrity of who she is, can be, should be, though each dead set against the other. Still we do know how to spite ourselves, not just other people. 

To freely and with open-eyes acknowledge the validity of each position and to inquire into the sources of the energy of the two stances can provide a creative tension in one's life if the level of urgency allows time before the choice. It allows us a generous grief if a conviction or an aspiration has to, regretfully, be put down. This brave encountering of inner or outer Others is, I believe, what is most significant about us in the universe, and most lasting.  

Still, this all sounds so clinical. Wrestling with incompatible alternatives is agonizing, a wrenching, night-sweating struggle. The Other is not just with us or in us; it is us. Anmi will resolve it one way or another; she's a smart, brave person. As her friend, I hope I can help.