My experience was much like Maweja’s, especially the light I saw above my head during that pivotal conversation with my friend Jamey; though in my case, it felt more like Dorothy stepping out of her black-and-white farmhouse into a world of technicolor. I felt like I’d been given a neurological upgrade: a brand-new mind, bright and clean. Ideas, good ideas, came rushing forth as they never had before—a leveling-up of what midcentury psychologist and creativity expert J.P. Guilford called the “fluency factor”: “the person who is capable of producing a large number of ideas per unit of time, other things being equal, has a greater chance of having significant ideas.” Guilford also wrote that a creative act requires a change in thought or behavior and that creativity flourishes through mental flexibility, or a willingness to consider new ideas. In researching this book, I’ve shaken my head time and again at the wisdom we’re encouraged to apply to every aspect of human life except the torture and consumption of animals.
But the clarity I experienced was primarily psychological. I began to notice all the myriad little lies we tell ourselves and each other. I only eat animals that lived good lives. May all beings everywhere be happy and free, except those destined for my dinner. My diet is healthy because I want to believe it’s healthy. Feedback loops and confirmation bias became too obvious to ignore, like a spaceship landing in a public park in broad daylight. Over the past seven years, I’ve channeled these new insights into my writing, and while one could argue that my recent work is more fully realized simply because I am older and therefore more practiced, there is no other explanation for this sustained level of productivity when I once languished in those year-long troughs.
Put another way, the quality and quantity of my output increased with the quality of my input. When poet and musician Saul Williams taught a class at Stanford called “The Muse, Musings, & Music,” he stipulated that each student had to go vegetarian for the semester in order to pass. Some were furious—they’d registered for the class expecting a famous slam poet to read their poems and pile on the praise. What the hell was this BS? Williams told the complainers,
Oh, you want me to monitor your creative output? Why would I want to dig through your shit if you’re not paying attention to what’s creating your shit? Why should I monitor what comes out of you if you’re not monitoring what goes into you? You think there’s no connection? What you read is your diet. What you watch is your diet. Channels? Dumb shit? That’s your diet. What you listen to is your diet. What you talk about, what you allow to be talked about in circles around you? That’s your diet. That’s what you’re ingesting…So you’re digesting all this shit and trying to come up with something original? You’re not surrounded by originality. How do you expect it to come out of you?
I suppose someone who cares too much for propriety might be put off by the scatological nature of this argument, but Williams is spot on, in art and in general: owning our waste means taking responsibility for what we’ve chosen to put in our mouths (or let into our consciousness) to begin with. The old notion of passively waiting for the Muse to bless your efforts is now a matter of readying oneself by eating and otherwise living well.
In a piece called “Unleashing Creativity” in Scientific American, Ulrich Kraft offers “Steps to a Creative Mind-Set,” chief among them being “Intellectual courage. Strive to think outside accepted principles and habitual perspectives such as ‘We’ve always done it that way.’” But I’m not too confident Kraft would apply his “intellectual courage” to the contents of his refrigerator. He continues: “To a degree, the brain is a creature of habit; using well-established neural pathways is more economical than elaborating new or unusual ones. Additionally, failure to train creative faculties allows those neural connections to wither. Over time it becomes harder for us to overcome thought barriers.” When people ask about my lifestyle and I reply with standard vegan logic, it’s exceedingly rare that someone will respond to any of my points with “intellectual courage.” More often than not, they ignore much of what I’ve said and walk away from the interaction thinking, “Camille loves animals. Isn’t that nice.” Those neural barriers are too reinforced.
On the other hand, we can use neural grooves to establish positive new eating habits. As vegan dietician Matt Ruscigno says, “It is really easy to stay in a rut and very difficult to get out of a rut. We forget that it takes time, and that it’s hard in the beginning… For those of us [vegans] who say it’s easy, it’s because we’ve developed new ruts.” The one true challenge is in resolving to forge that new neural pathway to start with; we just have to persevere to the point where a new habit feels as natural and comfortable as a longstanding one.
We hear doctors’ standard advice for slowing cognitive decline all the time: make a practice of doing things differently. Even good habits like cardiovascular exercise and oral hygiene should be practiced in new ways (like brushing your teeth in tree pose, for instance). Be deliberate about creating new neural pathways, they tell us—that’s how we stay sharp. What we don’t hear so often, though, is that changing your diet is the fastest, easiest way to a clear and fertile mind. It is a logical, specific change you can implement immediately.
Improving Your Input
Commit to a simple positive dietary change for at least one week: fresh juice or a smoothie in the morning (see page 195 for a list of my favorite combinations), a big salad rich in plant protein for lunch, or fresh fruit instead of cookies or ice cream (if you like to work at night). Each day make a note of what you ate or drank and how you feel, both physically and about how your work went that day (being as specific as you can in your observations). If you didn’t notice an appreciable difference, switch things up the following day: try a green smoothie instead of peanut-butter-and-banana, for example, or a three-bean salad with a tangy dressing instead of the vegan Caesar. Keep experimenting until you’ve found the foods that fuel you best.
Herbs and Spices to Light You Up
You probably already know that ginseng and gingko biloba are known to promote cognitive health, but the next time you’re at your local health food shop, look for gotu kola, which is scientifically proven to oxygenate the brain and activate neural pathways. Adriana Ayales, owner of the Anima Mundi Apothecary in Greenpoint, Brooklyn, suggests shaking a daily “herbal cocktail” with raw coconut water, 1 teaspoon gotu kola extract, and ½ teaspoon flax or borage seed oil (for omega-3s). You can also drink gotu kola as a tea by decocting in simmering water for fifteen to twenty minutes.
In a New York Times interview, Serbian artist Ana Kras shares her recipe for a morning chai latte she says boosts her immune system and brings mental clarity. Along with organic masala chai spice, ground vanilla powder, and homemade cashew cream, Kras recommends using Ayurvedic herbs like ashwagandha (dubbed the “Indian ginseng”), which several studies indicate may relieve stress and anxiety, and mucuna pruriens, a legume with anti-depressant effects; and powdered fungi like reishi and cordyceps. Kras, who is vegan, savors a cup of this “potion” along with toast and fig jam each morning before she gets to work. You’ll spend a good bit of money at the health food store, she says, but the powders last a long time, and the mental boost is totally worth it.
Nothing gets me feeling full, cozy, and ready to write like a nice hearty vegetable curry with tofu or chickpeas, and it turns out that turmeric—“king of the spices” and an essential ingredient in curry powder—may fight brain plaque and keep nerve cells active as we age. Along with cumin and coriander (which also go into curry powder), turmeric boosts digestion. Adding freshly ground black pepper maximizes your turmeric absorption, and you can also juice fresh turmeric root for a “golden milkshake” or latte. Studies indicate sage and lemon balm can also stave off cognitive decline, so use these herbs in your cooking