Nature & Climate

Sustainability, climate change, environmental solutions, biodiversity

Lalibela by Teekay RM

A place without clocks

March 25, 2026 — Leave a comment

This isn’t fiction. It’s called the African Jerusalem.

People there don’t need clocks. The bees tell the time.

As my readers know, I’m vegan, so I don’t take from animals, not even honey. That hasn’t changed. But in the highlands around Lalibela, I noticed a different way of living with them, one rooted in respect and faith.

Reasons why we don’t eat honey

I spent four years of my teenage life in Ethiopia, then returned again at 22. Some places stay with you in a way that doesn’t fade, and for me, this is one of them.

Not far from Lalibela, in rural areas often referred to locally as Gueorgis, beekeeping isn’t just a livelihood. It’s something older, something spiritual. Among Ethiopian Orthodox Christian communities, bees are not seen as simple insects. They’re often regarded as pure creatures, sometimes described as reflecting the discipline and harmony of angels. Not because they’re divine, but because they’re part of a creation that follows a precise order, one that humans are meant to observe and respect.

That idea of order shows up everywhere, especially in how people relate to time.

  • The concept of time

There’s a belief I heard more than once while I was there. The bees give the time three times a day. In the morning around what we would call 10, then at midday, and again in the afternoon around 3. These are the moments when their activity peaks, when they leave in visible waves to gather nectar. It’s not a clock in the modern sense, but it becomes one in daily life.

And in many of these rural areas, that matters more than any watch.

Because the reality is that in remote parts of Ethiopia, especially around Lalibela, people have historically lived without precise, mechanical timekeeping. Time is read through the sun, through patterns. Morning begins when the light settles a certain way. Midday is when the sun stands above you. Evening arrives when shadows stretch and the air cools.

People don’t meet at exact hours. They meet in moments. And everyone understands those moments.

There’s a cliché you hear often about Africans being fashionably “late,” about Ethiopians not caring about time. I don’t take that at face value. Without claiming it as a proven explanation, I think it says more about the observer than the people being described.

If your entire system is built around minutes and precision, then anything outside of that looks like disorder. But what if it’s just a different structure?

For instance, in Islamic cultures, time is extremely precise. Daily prayers are tied to exact solar positions. Fasting begins and ends at defined moments. The lunar calendar governs entire cycles of life. Time there is something to be measured carefully and adhered to strictly.

In contrast, in many rural societies, time is lived before it’s measured. It flows with what God has set in motion, rather than being cut into exact units. So what looks like “lateness” might simply be life unfolding without the pressure of the clock.

And Ethiopia takes that even further in a way most people don’t even realize.

It doesn’t just live time differently. It counts it differently.

There’s what we call international time, and then there’s Ethiopian time. In Ethiopia, the day starts at what we would call 6 AM, roughly sunrise. That’s hour one. So what we call 7am becomes 1 o’clock. Noon becomes 6. What we call 6 PM becomes 12. It’s not confusion. It’s consistency with the sun. The first hour begins when light begins.

It’s a system that actually makes a lot of sense. It aligns the clock with lived reality rather than abstract convention.

The calendar follows the same logic.

Ethiopian calendar has 13 months, not 12. Twelve months of 30 days, and a thirteenth month of 5 days, or 6 in a leap year. That last month, Pagume if my memory hasn’t failed me, is short, almost like a pause between cycles.

Thus, the new year doesn’t begin on January 1st. It begins around September 11th. Right after the heavy rainy season, when the land resets, when the skies clear, when life begins again. It’s agricultural, but also spiritual. A renewal that actually follows the environment people live in.

And because of how this calendar was preserved, based on older Christian calculations of the Annunciation, Ethiopia is about 7 to 8 years “behind” the Gregorian calendar. So while much of the world is in 2026, Ethiopia is in 2018.

It’s not that one is right and the other is wrong. It’s that one remained rooted in its own continuity, and I love and salute that.

  • Beekeeping in the African Jerusalem

That continuity matters when you look at places like Lalibela, often called the African Jerusalem. Tied to Gebre Mesqel Lalibela, whose name is understood to mean “the bees recognize his greatness/sovereignty”, it reflects one of the oldest continuous Christian traditions in the world. Christianity has been practiced in Ethiopia since at least the 4th century, long before much of Europe fully adopted it.

So when people bring honey to churches, when priests bless bees and beekeepers, it’s not symbolic in a modern sense. It’s continuity across centuries.

And that continuity is visible in movement too.

During honey harvesting seasons, some people from extremely remote villages set out for the markets of Lalibela, carrying honey in hand-crafted clay jars to sustain their families. They walk for days, not hours, days!

They move across the highlands, guided by the sun, by memory, by instinct. No maps, no schedules. Just direction.

Along the way, they stop at churches. Some of them centuries old, carved into rock. They offer part of their honey. Priests receive it, bless it, sometimes bless the bees themselves. It’s not commerce. It’s passage.

When night falls, they stop.

No tents. No inflatable beds. No modern equipment. They sleep outside, on the ground, with whatever they carry. Then at sunrise, they continue. Dozens of kilometers, step after step, until they reach the central market.

And this still happens today.

Part of what makes this possible is the geography of the Ethiopian highlands, historically known as Abyssinia. Compared to neighboring regions in Kenya or Tanzania, which are home to large populations of dangerous wildlife, the high plateaus around Lalibela are relatively safer. Fewer large predators, different ecosystems. It doesn’t mean there’s no risk, but it makes long-distance walking without protection far more viable.

The beehives themselves are adapted to this environment. Made from hollowed logs, woven fibers, and natural seals, they protect the bees from temperature swings and pests, and can survive in remote areas with minimal attention. Over generations, this system has allowed Ethiopian beekeeping to continue for at least 1500 years, deeply tied to the rhythms of the land.

The climate shapes everything too. Much of Ethiopia doesn’t follow four seasons, but cycles of rain and dryness that vary by altitude. Life organizes itself around what is given, and when it’s given, whether for people or for bees. In this context, priests play a role. Honey and candles are brought to churches, blessed, and prayers are offered for people and their bees.

Provision ultimately comes from God, and humans participate within limits they cannot control.

Even so, tension remains. People treat the bees with care and respect, but taking honey is still taking. Even when done carefully, it remains a form of exploitation. It may be necessary, it may be balanced, but it must also be acknowledged.

What stayed with me after all these years and despite how much I traveled was the alignment. A place where time is not just counted differently, but felt differently. Where a day doesn’t begin at midnight because a clock says so, but when light actually appears. Where a year resets not in the middle of winter, but after the rains have passed. Where journeys are measured in effort, not in minutes.

In a place like Lalibela, you start to question what we consider “normal.”

Maybe precision isn’t always clarity.

Maybe being “on time” isn’t always being in sync.

And maybe there are ways of living, still existing today, that haven’t forgotten that time was never meant to be owned, only followed.

Thanks for reading.

Teekay

Winter by Tee

Winter knows something we forgot

March 18, 2026 — Leave a comment

You don’t hate winter, you hate how we live through it.

I’m such a winter person. I resisted that idea for years because I don’t particularly enjoy being cold and I absolutely hate humidity, but I’m done arguing with it now.

Winter is my favorite season, the one that makes me feel most alive. Fall comes close behind. Maybe I’m really a fall-first person who only settles once winter arrives. Fall feels like a threshold, a kind of preparation, while winter is the place it all leads to.

Most people say they hate winter, but I don’t even think that’s true. I think they hate winter under capitalism, which is a very different thing.

Winter isn’t simply December 21st to March 20th like we’re taught in school. December 21st is the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year, the deepest point of darkness. In many ways, that’s peak winter. It’s both the heart of it and the beginning of its slow release.

If you look at older seasonal systems, especially the Celtic calendar, winter is often understood differently. It begins around early November, with Samhain, and transitions toward spring around early February, with Imbolc. I’ve always intuitively aligned with this rhythm, a rhythm that feels more real in the body.

Winter always makes me nostalgic about my childhood. Where you grow up shapes your relationship to it. Below the equator, winter falls during what we call summer months. It’s shorter, less harsh. It’s still winter, but it doesn’t carry the same weight. Above the equator, winter has a presence. It changes everything.

Winter in New York, for example, is unmatched. But to understand it, you have to start with fall. Fall is special in a way that’s hard to replicate. The air sharpens, the leaves start falling, the temperature drops just enough to wake you up. School starts again. People return from summer scatteredness with a sense of purpose. There’s motivation, a quiet hope that something new can begin before the year closes.

Then come the holidays. I don’t celebrate them myself, but I can’t deny the atmosphere. Halloween, with kids everywhere. Thanksgiving, massive in New York. Then the Christmas season, with its films, its smells, its food. Cinnamon, baked goods, warmth. Fall is about getting cozy. It’s about preparing, consciously or not, for winter.

And then winter arrives.

One of my favorite childhood memories is hearing on the radio that a blizzard had shut everything down. Schools closed for days. Travel discouraged. The world paused. I remember the feeling of going back to bed, diving under the blanket, watching the snow fall outside. There was a kind of collective stillness. Everyone was home at the same time, in the middle of the week, which almost never happened.

Winter meant snowball fights with family and friends. Building snowmen. Coming back inside after hours in the cold to drink something hot, cinnamon-heavy or just a simple hot chocolate. Winter also meant shorter days, which I’ve always loved. There’s something honest about darkness arriving early. It forces you inward, and you simply sleep better. At least I do.

Now that I live in a coastal town, winter has taken on a different form. The place empties out. It becomes a ghost town. Only a few locals remain. I can walk through the streets, along the beach, into the forests, and not see anyone. Not hear anyone. Just space, and peace.

Fall here is also the perfect time for mushroom picking. There’s something deeply satisfying about finding your own food, bringing it home, cooking it. I don’t do it as often as I used to, but when I do, it reconnects me to something older than all of this.

Winter also brings unpredictability. Storms, floods, strong winds, snow.

I’ve always been fascinated by storms. There’s something humbling about them. They remind you how small you are without humiliating you. Just placing you back in proportion.

And this is where my relationship with winter becomes more than just aesthetic.

Winter, to me, is supposed to be a time of slowing down. A form of hibernation. Not complete inactivity, but a reduction. A softening. A withdrawal from constant output.

But winter under capitalism is the opposite of that.

It’s when everything accelerates. Black Friday. Christmas consumption. New Year’s, January sales. Valentine’s Day. It becomes a concentrated period of economic extraction. A time where people are pushed to spend more, move more, produce more, exactly when their bodies are asking for less.

I don’t adhere to that. I reject it.

Because biologically, intuitively, winter asks something else from us. Even illness patterns reflect that. People don’t just get sick because of viruses. They get sick because they keep pushing at summer pace in a winter body. They ignore the signal to slow down.

Historically, people understood this. They worked through the year, harvested their crops, prepared for winter. Around the end of October, they gathered, celebrated the end of harvest. And then life shifted. Maintenance replaced expansion. Survival replaced growth.

Nature does the same. Animals retreat. Bears hibernate. Bees cluster. Even plants withdraw into themselves. Winter is not death. It’s conservation.

I sometimes imagine a different life. A cabin. A cycle where summer is for harvesting, fall for preparing, winter for resting. Wood gathered. Food stored. Time spent simply maintaining what’s already there.

Life, at its core, is that simple. But systems built on constant expansion don’t allow simplicity to survive.

Winter, for me, is also about people. Not crowds, but closeness. Seeing friends, family. Sitting together, drinking tea, sharing time without urgency. There’s a different quality to connection in winter. It’s slower, deeper.

Even sports feel different. The air, the light, the coziness of it all. Everything sharpens.

And if I’m honest, part of why I love winter is personal. I’m introverted. I need that inward space. But it’s also something else. A fatigue with what humanity has become. The constant noise, the endless movement, the destruction of everything around us.

Winter feels like a counterforce.

It slows us down whether we like it or not. A storm doesn’t ask for permission. A blizzard doesn’t negotiate. When it hits, everything stops. And in that moment, we’re all equal. No one is above it.

There’s something powerful in that.

To me, winter restores balance. It interrupts the illusion that we can operate at maximum intensity all year long. The shortening of days, the stretching of nights, the way time itself feels heavier, slower, none of that is accidental. It’s a form of design.

Fighting that rhythm has consequences. You see it in people who try to live winter like summer. They burn out. They get anxious. They get sick.

I haven’t had a cold in years. That’s not just because I’m active or because of my diet, though those matter. It’s because I try, as much as possible, to align with that rhythm. To accept that winter is not the time to push.

Winter is about gathering. With nature, with people, with yourself. It’s not about peak productivity. It’s not about consumption. It’s not about proving anything.

It’s about remembering.

And maybe that’s why I love it so much. Because despite everything, despite the systems we’ve built to override it, winter still imposes itself. It reminds us, quietly or violently, that we are not in control of everything.

That there is a rhythm beyond us.

And that we’d probably be better off listening to it.

Thanks for reading.

Teekay.

Raven

Neighbors of Lacanau Océan

February 2, 2026 — 1 Comment

Small worlds at the edge of the ocean.

Living near the ocean and surrounded by forest comes with a quiet gift: the constant presence of small, living worlds brushing past my own.

In 2024, my wife and I moved to Lacanau Océan almost by accident and immediately fell in love with the area, especially during the off season, when silence settles in. Beyond the calm and the sense of space, what stays with me most is the wildlife I encounter on my daily walks near the ocean and through the forest.

Below is a little gallery of animals I come across regularly, depending on the season. I’m probably forgetting some.

Raven

A list of land animals

  1. Wild boars
  2. Roe deer
  3. Rabbits
  4. Hedgehogs
  5. Red foxes
  6. Bats
  7. Red squirrels
  8. Frogs
  9. Moles
  10. Butterflies
  11. Dragonflies
  12. Snails
  13. Lizards
  14. Ducks
  15. Cats of course
  16. and dogs

And then a bunch of birds too

  1. Kentish plover (the funniest birds itw)
  2. Ravens (my faves)
  3. Blackbirds
  4. White storks (lucky if you see them, but they’re around)
  5. Tawny owls (the shy ones)
  6. Common buzzards
  7. Common kestrels
  8. Eurasian magpie
  9. Eurasian siskin
  10. Seagulls
  11. Cranes

Pretty awesome, right?

Thank you for stopping by.

Teekay

Beaver

The intelligence of slow water

January 27, 2026 — Leave a comment

And how unlikely engineers are fixing what we broke.

Somewhere between dams, drains and forgotten beaver ponds, we taught water to behave unnaturally.

For centuries, rivers weren’t linear channels cutting through land. They were living systems with multiple rhythms. They had (some still do) a normal bed, a medium bed and a larger floodplain. During certain periods, rivers would overflow into nearby fields and forests, depositing sediments, organic matter and nutrients. They would slow down, spread out, feed themselves and recharge the surrounding soils before returning to their usual course. Water lingered. Land absorbed it like a sponge. Life depended on that slowness.

Modern (human) engineering broke this balance. To protect infrastructure, agriculture and urban areas, rivers were straightened, dredged and confined between embankments. Their wider beds were erased. This caused for river channels to deepen because the straighter a river is, the faster it goes, and the faster it goes, the more it digs under itself, thus lowering its bed. This phenom’ had two immediate consequences. First, rivers stopped feeding themselves. Cut off from floodplains, they no longer collect organic matter, sediments and nutrients that once sustained aquatic ecosystems. Second, and more critically, they stopped feeding the land around them. The earth lost its role as a sponge.

When soils are regularly rehydrated by slow, spreading water, they remain loose, alive and porous. Microorganisms thrive. Roots penetrate deeply. Organic matter accumulates.

When this process is interrupted, soils dry out and compact. They become stiff and tight. Rain no longer infiltrates. It slides across the surface, picking up speed, eroding topsoil and rushing straight into rivers, then quickly into the ocean. Water is no longer stored in landscapes but evacuated as quickly as possible. What we call floods and droughts are often two sides of the same engineered mistake.

This acceleration of water is a massive stress on the planet. Freshwater ecosystems collapse. Groundwater reserves fail to recharge. Agricultural soils lose fertility. Coastal zones receive sudden, polluted surges of freshwater and sediments. The problem is not a lack of rain but a lack of time. Water is not allowed to stay.

Nature, left to itself, mirrors its creator’s perfection. So naturally, solutions do exist, and one of the most powerful allies in restoring hydrological balance is none other than the beaver.

Often dismissed as a nuisance or a pest, the beaver is in fact a master engineer, working in harmony with natural laws rather than against them. By building “dams”, beavers slow water down. They raise river levels back toward their natural height. They reconnect streams with floodplains. They recreate the layered beds that humans spent centuries destroying, and still are.

Beaver dams create chains of small wetlands and ponds, true oases across landscapes. These wetlands filter water by trapping sediments and pollutants. They store water during wet periods and release it slowly during dry ones, reducing both floods and droughts. They soften the surrounding soils, allowing water to infiltrate deeply and recharge aquifers. Land regains its sponge-like function.

The ecological benefits are extraordinary. Beaver wetlands provide habitat for fish, amphibians, aquatic insects, birds and mammals. Frogs, salamanders, dragonflies, trout, ducks and herons all thrive in these environments. Biodiversity increases not despite the dams but because of them. Even forests benefit, as higher groundwater levels support healthier trees and reduce vulnerability to fires.

Beavers don’t build for profit, efficiency or short-term control. They build for stability. Their work reverses, piece by piece, the damage caused by rigid, fast and extractive water management systems, built by us.

Where humans forced rivers to behave like drains, beavers restore them as living systems.

Reintroducing and protecting beavers is not a romantic gesture or a return to some imagined past. It’s a practical, science-backed response to centuries of bad engineering. Beavers show that the solution to water crises is not always more concrete, deeper channels or faster flows. Sometimes, the solution is to slow down, raise water back into the land and let ecosystems do what they have always done best.

If we’re serious about restoring soils, securing water and easing the planetary stress we created, we should stop fighting nature’s intelligence and start learning from it.

In that lesson, the beaver is the blueprint.

Food for thought.

Thank you for stopping by.

Teekay

Will AI cause the death of humanity?

The hefty cost of convenience in an artificial world

January 3, 2026 — Leave a comment

AI tools have made an already bad situation worse.

Every time you touch an AI tool, whether you’re making images or words, you’re feeding a machine that drinks real water and eats real power. Not in theory. Literally. There’s no harmless cloud floating above us. There are data centers on the ground, towers pulling heat out, plants burning fuel, all so content can come out faster while the bill gets paid somewhere else.

Think of it this way. One text request to a large AI model uses roughly the same amount of water as a few mouthfuls from a soda can. That sounds small until you remember these systems handle billions of requests a day! At that scale, we’re not talking about sips. We’re talking about entire truckloads of bottled drinks being poured straight down the drain, every single day, just to keep servers cool.

The estimated CO2 emissions from training common NLP models, compared to familiar consumption (University of Massachusetts, 2019)

Generating a single AI image uses several times more energy than a text request. One article with five or six AI images might be using the equivalent electricity of leaving a laptop running for hours. Multiply that by thousands of articles, social posts, newsletters and ads, and suddenly it’s not trivial at all.

Zoom out a little more and the picture gets uglier. AI-related data centers are already using as much electricity as mid-sized cities. Estimates put global AI power demand on track to rival places like San Francisco or Boston within a few years. That’s millions of homes worth of electricity being burned so companies can automate writing, art and video at scale. AI doesn’t just steal jobs, it steals our resources.

Artificial Intelligence Growth Linked to 80 Million Tonnes of Carbon Emissions in 2025

Now stack dozens of these facilities across drought-prone states and you start to see why people are angry.

And they are angry.

Lately, I’ve seen organizers in Arizona, Pennsylvania and Georgia mobilize against new data center construction. Nobody wants these things in their communities. They strain power grids, drain water supplies and mostly benefit companies that don’t live there (don’t they always?). Luckily, these fights seem to be working. Projects are being delayed, while others are being stopped altogether. We can and will win against these tech oligarchs, but first, we need to be smart about our usage.

This is why it’s so frustrating to see articles about resistance, climate justice or helping nature paired with AI-written images. You can’t talk about fighting extraction while actively participating in it. You can’t warn about corporate overreach while relying on the most opaque, resource-hungry tech industry on the planet.

And it’s not just images. AI-written articles, AI-edited videos, AI voiceovers, all of it runs on the same infrastructure. Longer outputs mean more compute. Videos are especially brutal, far more than text or AI generated images. That one slick AI video you just posted (or liked) could represent the electricity use of a household for days. Yes, dayzz!

The worst part is how little transparency there is. AI companies won’t clearly say how much water or energy a specific model or request uses. Communities are asked to trust them, just like users are. Meanwhile the meters keep spinning.

Just to be clear, I’m not saying we need to go off-grid or stop using technology entirely, but we should start making conscious choices. Take your own photos. Use art made by real people. Scan a drawing, even a bad one. Use stock photos from photographers who actually went outside and did the work. Write things yourself or don’t write at all!

If you’re serious about resistance, about protecting nature, about fighting back against corporate power, your tools matter. Using AI by default, especially for images and media, actively undermines your message. People feel that contradiction, even if they don’t always have the numbers to explain it.

Food for thought.

Thank you for stopping by.

Teekay.

water magic

Water speaks in ways we ignore

August 11, 2025 — Leave a comment

A memory, a teacher, a traveler from space.

Once upon a time, exactly 4.5 billion years ago, Earth was a violent place.

There were no oceans. No rivers, no rain, no life. Just a molten ball of fire and gas, spinning restlessly in space.

And then it came. Not as a storm or a miracle, but as dust, rock, and ice, hurtling through space and crashing into this young planet during what scientists now call the Late Heavy Bombardment.

Over millions of years, icy asteroids and meteorites may have delivered what Earth itself couldn’t produce on its own: water. Drop by drop, this alien substance transformed our planet, cooling its surface, filling its craters, and laying the foundation for every living thing that would ever exist.

In other words, the water in your glass, in your blood, in your tears, may not be from Earth.

This is a common theory among scientists, but how do they back it up?

Well, simply put, traces of deuterium (a form of hydrogen) in Earth’s water match those found in carbon-rich meteorites, not in Earth’s original atmosphere. In other words, water could well be extraterrestrial and we’re walking oceans, born of stardust and comets.

Pretty cool.

“A water molecule is made up of one atom of oxygen and two of hydrogen. Hydrogen was created in the Big Bang, and oxygen in the cores of stars more massive than the Sun. Enormous amounts of water, in gaseous form, exist in the vast stellar nurseries of our galaxy.” – NASA

All that being said, new discoveries have challenged that theory. Science doesn’t care about romance and poetry..

But that’s only the beginning of the story.

Water is alive in ways we’re still discovering

Science has always viewed water as simple H₂O. But the more we look, the more mysterious it becomes.

Water doesn’t just hydrate, it reacts. It listens, and it may even remember!

Case in point, when scientists drill into glaciers in Antarctica or Greenland, they’re not just pulling out ice. They’re pulling out history. Inside those frozen cores are bubbles of ancient air, particles of volcanoes and wildfires, records of rainfall, drought, and dust storms, all preserved in perfect detail. These layers tell us the climate story of Earth going back hundreds of thousands of years.

So yeah, water stores information. It has a memory. It IS a memory, not metaphorically but quite literally.

But what if water also stores something more subtle?

Can water feel ? Like, does it have feelings?

The late Dr. Masaru Emoto, a Japanese researcher, believed it did. In his famous (and controversial) experiments, he exposed water to different words, prayers, music, and intentions, then froze it and photographed the crystals that formed.

On one hand, water blessed with words like “love” or “gratitude” formed stunning, symmetrical snowflake-like shapes. On the other, water exposed to hate, anger, or pollution formed distorted, chaotic patterns.

His work was dismissed by many in the scientific community, as they do. But for others, it cracked open a door. A possibility that consciousness and water might be connected in ways we don’t yet understand.

The mystery of memory in water

In 2009, Luc Montagnier, the Nobel Prize–winning virologist who co-discovered HIV, published a paper suggesting that highly diluted DNA in water emits electromagnetic signals, and that water retains this information even when the DNA is gone.

Another researcher and Swiss chemist, Louis Rey, studied water’s “memory” through thermoluminescence and noticed changes depending on what the water had previously been exposed to.

These findings are controversial, but they echo something ancient cultures have always known:

That water is not just a substance, it’s a carrier. A messenger. A mirror.

Water in religion & spirituality

Across every tradition and belief system, water is sacred.

• In Islam, it is said in the Qur’an: “We made from water every living thing” (21:30). Before drinking or washing, Muslims say “Bismillah”, or In the name of God, inviting His name to bless the water. Then there is the water of Zamzam, a sacred well in Mecca, believed to have sprung miraculously for Hagar and her son Ishmael in the desert. This water is revered for its purity and spiritual significance, and pilgrims often drink it during Hajj and Umrah, and take it home as a cherished gift.

• In Christianity, water baptizes, purifies, rebirths.

• In Buddhism and Taoism, water is a symbol of humility and transformation. It yields but wears down mountains.

• And Bruce Lee, blending martial arts with Eastern philosophy, famously said:

“Be like water, my friend.”

Meaning: stay flexible, formless, adaptive, like the element that takes the shape of whatever holds it, and yet remains itself.

Water teaches us to flow, to remember, and to release.

Our bodies remember too

Our body is made up of about 60% water. Our brain? Closer to 75%.

We are, quite literally, a walking river. Every cell depends on water, not just to survive, but to communicate, to regenerate, to feel.

Our emotions, hormones, sleep, focus, creativity, they all ride on the flow of water inside us.

And yet, for something so vital, we’ve forgotten how rare it is.

Water is scarce and under threat

Earth may be covered in water, but only 0.007% of it is drinkable and accessible. The rest is locked away in oceans, glaciers, or underground.

Meanwhile, pollution, overconsumption, and climate change are drying up and polluting a resource that our very existence relies on. Every environmental campaign is focused on the pollution of air (which causes 7 million deaths a year), which is great, but most campaigns don’t even touch on the irreversible pollution of water (mostly due to the fashion industry and animal breeding). Why? The air is much easier to clean than our fresh water streams. and yet..

Meanwhile, pollution, overconsumption, and climate change are depleting and contaminating a resource essential to our very survival: water. Most environmental campaigns rightly focus on air pollution, which causes 7 million deaths each year btw, but rarely address the irreversible pollution of our freshwater sources, much of it driven by the fashion industry and industrial animal farming. Why? I mean if anything, air is far easier to clean than our streams, rivers, and aquifers..

• The fashion industry produces 20% of global industrial water pollution. Dyes and synthetic materials poison rivers from Asia to South America.

• The meat industry is one of the biggest consumers and polluters of water. One single beef burger requires over 2,000 liters of water to produce. But that’s not it: Waste from livestock contaminates rivers and groundwater. Read about the Green Tide, aka Killer Slime or green algae, a magic seaweed that can kill you in SECONDS, another scandal brushed under the rug because a certain lobby is too powerful to let it be mediatized.

Food production accounts for over a quarter (26%) of global greenhouse gas emissions. 18% of those are due to livestock production. – Stanford

• Plastic and pesticides enter our lakes and oceans at alarming rates. Microplastics have now been found in rainwater and even in unborn babies.

By 2030, the United Nations warns that 40% of people could face severe water scarcity if we don’t act.

Water is strong. It’s self-purifying, patient, ancient. But even it has limits.

A call to return to reverence

We live in a world where water comes from a tap, which is why we forget how sacred it is. We wear clothes made in countries we’ll never visit, eat food raised on land we’ll never see, throw away plastics that outlive us by centuries, and we don’t see the water trails behind them.

But now we know better.

We know that water is more than H₂O. It holds the blueprint of life and the story of our planet. It listens. It reflects us.

So what can we do?

• Plant trees.

• Eat more plants and less dead flesh.

• Repair our clothes.

• Use less plastic and ban single use plastics.

• Speak blessings into our glass.

• Treat water like the rare, cosmic treasure that it is.

Because every drop of water you drink has seen stars. It’s been ice. It’s been vapor. It’s fallen as rain, flowed through rivers, and run through the veins of everything that has ever lived.

And maybe, just maybe, when you speak to it, it remembers you too.

Thanks for reading.

Tee.

Pollinating bee

Reasons why we don’t eat honey

May 12, 2025 — 1 Comment

Besides the fact that we don’t “need” to.

Honey comes from bees. Bees are tiny creatures who play a huge role in keeping our planet alive and healthy, I’ll explain how.

Bees are born in beehives, where they grow up, work together, and take care of each other. While most people think bees are just busy flying around, they’re not! They actually have specific “jobs”, or tasks if you will. In fact, each bee has a specific role: some clean the hive, some feed the baby bees, and others go out to find food. Basically, they’re like us, except more advanced, because they don’t pollute, fight over nonsense and hate each other for no reason.

Bees are also pollinators.

When bees buzz from one flower to the next, they’re doing something extremely important known as pollination. Here’s how it works: As bees collect nectar for making honey, they carry pollen from flower to flower. This simple act helps plants grow fruits, veggies, seeds, and even more flowers. Without bees doing their thing, a lot of the food we rely on wouldn’t exist.

Let that sink in for a second.

Case in point, 75% of the food we eat depends on pollinators like bees (WEF). 75 freakin’ percent! Apples, strawberries, cucumbers, almonds, and even coffee all need pollination. So, losing bees would mean most of these foods would disappear, or become extremely rare and expensive.

Besides, pollinators also help plants that grow in the wild. These plants give food and shelter to animals and help keep the air clean. So, pollinators help whole ecosystems survive, not just farms and gardens.

While bees are the most famous pollinators, they’re not the only ones. Butterflies, hummingbirds, bats, moths, beetles, and even some types of ants and wasps also help pollinate plants. However, bees are the most effective because they focus their energy on flowers and carry lots of pollen.

This year (2025), we’ve had the worst honeybee loss in recorded history in the US. In fact, 80% of honeybees died suddenly. We still “don’t know” why (pesticides, it’s pesticides).

So, why don’t we eat honey? Simple: bees make honey to feed themselves and keep their hive alive, especially through the winter. When humans harvest honey, they’re taking away the bees’ own food (and heat) source. To make up for it, beekeepers sometimes replace the honey with sugar water, but that doesn’t give bees the nutrients they need to stay healthy. In fact, just like in humans, too much sugar can weaken their immune systems and make them more vulnerable to disease.

Worse still, to harvest honey, beekeepers often use smoke or chemical fumes to force bees out of their hives. This disorients them, causing stress, panic, and confusion, sometimes even leading them to get lost or die as they flee.

Even though it might not seem harmful at first, stealing honey puts a lot of pressure on bee colonies. It is in fact one of the reasons we’ve seen millions of bees die in recent years.

This is why many vegans consider honey as part of animal exploitation. The more we take from bees and damage their homes, the fewer bees we have, which in turn puts entire ecosystems, and our own food systems, at risk. In numbers, honeybees pollinate a worth of 15 billion dollars of crops in the US only, yearly.

If bees disappear, many plants won’t be pollinated. This means fewer fruits, vegetables, and nuts. Animal species that eat these plants will struggle, and so will the animals that eat them. It’s a chain reaction that could cause entire ecosystems to collapse. Eventually, the extermination of bees would entail food shortages even for us, humans, and thus our death as well.

Humans have long seen themselves as sitting at the top of the pyramid, a concept known as speciesism, but in reality, we’re just one part of a vast, interconnected family of living, sentient beings.

Fascinating facts about bees

Here’s where things get interesting: Plants, being rooted in the ground, carry a small negative electric charge. Interestingly, this charge increases the higher up the plant you go, creating an electric field around the flower itself.

Bees, in contrast, acquire a positive charge during flight due to friction with the air, which causes them to lose electrons. So, as a bee approaches a flower, the opposing electric fields of the bee and the plant begin to interact. This interaction subtly changes the flower’s natural vibrations or signals, imperceptible to humans, but detectable to bees.

When the bee lands on the flower, the positive charge from the bee and the negative charge of the flower neutralize each other almost instantly. This leads to two remarkable outcomes:

  1. The negatively charged pollen from the flower is attracted to and effectively “jumps” onto the positively charged bee;
  2. The flower’s electric field is altered, signaling to other approaching bees that it has already been visited. This change communicates that the flower likely has no nectar left, prompting bees to move on and return later. Mindblowing!

So, flowers use electric fields not just to attract pollinators, but also to communicate whether they still have nectar. They have their own language of electricity, completely imperceptible to us.

Other interesting facts about bees: They can also recognize human faces, communicate with each other through a little dance, and even show signs of emotion. Scientists also suggest bees can count and they might even dream.

What can we do to protect the bees and our soils?

  • Ban pesticides.
  • Plant flowers that bees love, like lavender, sunflowers and wildflowers.
  • Replace honey with the million other alternatives in existence: maple syrup, agave nectar, date syrup, molasses, and even fruit-based syrups work great. Why participate in the extinction of a whole species (and many other would follow suite) when you can avoid it?

Bees may be small, but they are mighty. Taking care of them is not just about saving one species, it’s about saving the world we all share.

Thank you for stopping by. This post was inspired by a conversation with my wife ❤

Peace!

Teekay

WATCH: 31 Documentaries that will change your perception of food (with trailers)

December 23, 2024 — 1 Comment

You are what you eat.

An Updated Guide to Must-Watch Documentaries on Health, the Environment, and Animal Welfare

A few years ago, I compiled a list of powerful documentaries that opened eyes and sparked conversations about the connections between our diets, personal health, the planet, and animal welfare. Since then, new documentaries have emerged, offering fresh perspectives and deeper insights into these critical topics.

This updated list features 31 must-watch documentaries that will inspire you to rethink your choices, understand the broader impact of what’s on your plate, and consider the powerful role food plays in shaping our world.

Whether you’re passionate about health, sustainability, or ethics, these films are a compelling call to action, and a perfect way to kickstart meaningful change.

You Are What You Eat: The Twin Experiment (2024)
A twin-focused dietary experiment exploring the effects of different eating habits on health.
Notable Figures: None known.

Earthlings (2005)
A groundbreaking documentary examining humanity’s reliance on animals for food, clothing, and entertainment.
Notable Figures: Narrated by Joaquin Phoenix.

Dominion (2018)
Exposing the darker side of animal agriculture through hidden-camera footage.
Notable Figures: Narrated by Joaquin Phoenix, Rooney Mara, and Sia.

Forks Over Knives (2011)
A case for adopting a plant-based diet to combat chronic diseases.
Notable Figures: Dr. T. Colin Campbell, Dr. Caldwell Esselstyn.

What the Health (2017)
Investigating the link between diet, disease, and corporate influence in health organizations.
Notable Figures: Kip Andersen, Keegan Kuhn.

Cowspiracy: The Sustainability Secret (2014)
Revealing the environmental impact of animal agriculture.
Notable Figures: Directed by Kip Andersen.

Seaspiracy (2022)
A critique of the fishing industry’s devastating impact on marine ecosystems.
Notable Figures: Directed by Ali Tabrizi and Kip Andersen

Christpiracy (2024)
Examining the intersection of religion and ethical food choices.
Notable Figures: Directed by Kip Andersen and Kameron Waters.

The Game Changers (2018)
Debunking myths about plant-based diets and athletic performance.
Notable Figures: Produced by James Cameron, Arnold Schwarzenegger.

I Could Never Go Vegan (2024)
Addressing common excuses and challenges against veganism.
Notable Figures: None known.

Vegucated (2011)
Following three people as they attempt to adopt a vegan lifestyle.
Notable Figures: Directed by Marisa Miller Wolfson.

Milked (2021)
A deep dive into the dairy industry and its global implications.
Notable Figures: Created by Chris Huriwai.

Pignorant (2024)
Exploring the psychology behind ignoring the ethics of animal consumption.
Notable Figures: Created Joey Carbstrong.

Eating Animals (2018)
An exposé of industrial farming and its impact on food systems.
Notable Figures: Based on Jonathan Safran Foer’s book, narrated by Natalie Portman

Carnage: Swallowing the Past (2017)
A satirical take on a future where veganism is the norm and meat-eating is taboo.
Notable Figures: Directed by Simon Amstell.

The Smell of Money (2022)
Investigating the environmental racism tied to industrial pig farming.
Notable Figures: Guess appearance: Cory Booker

The End of Meat (2017)
Imagining a world where meat consumption has ended.
Notable Figures: Directed by Marc Pierschel.

The Invisible Vegan (2019)
A focus on the often-overlooked contributions of Black communities to veganism.
Notable Figures: Directed by Jasmine Leyva, guest appearance by John Salley

Mission Blue (2014)
Chronicling Dr. Sylvia Earle’s mission to protect ocean habitats.
Notable Figures: Featuring Sylvia Earle.

Eating Our Way to Extinction
Exploring how our diets are destroying ecosystems and biodiversity.
Notable Figures: Narrated by Kate Winslet.

Eating You Alive (2018)
Highlighting the health benefits of a whole-food, plant-based diet.
Notable Figures: Featuring Samuel L. Jackson, James Cameron.

H.O.P.E. What You Eat Matters (2018)
Demonstrating the health, environmental, and ethical reasons for eating consciously.
Notable Figures: Guests;  Jane Goodall, Vandana Shiva

Food Choices (2016)
A comprehensive look at how dietary choices impact health and the planet.
Notable Figures: Directed by Michal Siewierski.

Peaceable Kingdom: The Journey Home (2009)
Farmers recount their journeys from animal agriculture to veganism.
Notable Figures: Directed by Jenny Stein.

Simply Raw: Reversing Diabetes in 30 Days (2009)
Following individuals reversing diabetes through a raw vegan diet.
Notable Figures: Featuring Gabriel Cousens.

The Cove (2009)
Unveiling the horrors of dolphin hunting in Japan.
Notable Figures: Featuring Ric O’Barry.

Speciesism: The Movie (2013)
Challenging societal norms about animal exploitation.
Notable Figures: Directed by Mark Devries.

73 Cows (2018)
The journey of a farmer transitioning from cattle farming to sustainable living.
Notable Figures: Directed by Alex Lockwood.

Live and Let Live (2013)
Examining ethical veganism and its implications.
Notable Figures: Directed by Marc Pierschel.

Land of Hope and Glory (2017)
An exposé on UK factory farming practices.
Notable Figures: Directed by Ed Winters.

Rowdy Girl (2023)
A former cattle rancher turns her farm into an animal sanctuary.
Notable Figures: Featuring Renee King-Sonnen.

Why We Love Nature but Keep Destroying It

July 24, 2024 — 1 Comment

How can we do better, collectively?

My self-professed love for nature is no secret to my readers.

Being close to nature is and has always been my thing.

Nature is wondrous, full of beauty and peace.

Hiking photo by Teekay Rezeau-Merah
Hiking photo by author Teekay Rezeau-Merah

The reason I became a vegan minimalist was mainly to protect it and its inhabitants.

But doing so opened my eyes on a fascinating paradox, especially in the vegan and vanlife communities; a paradox I ponder upon on a daily basis.

Spending more time in the great outdoors allowed me to come to a poignant realization: The very nature that we, avid nature enthusiasts and animal lovers, hold dear to our hearts, is the very same nature we often unwittingly damage with our bad habits.

How can we enjoy something so much while simultaneously participate in its destruction?

Teekay @teekayrezeaumerah
Please don’t leave toilet paper in nature (photo by author)

Well, here’s where my thinking is at the moment.

  • Reasoning

First of all, I want to make something clear: As pragmatic as I can be, my personal belief is that human beings are born good.

However, human beings are also amazing at compartmentalizing.

meaning of compatmentalize by Teekay Rezeau-Merah
Screenshot by author

A fitting illustration of my point is that of individuals who profess to be staunch advocates for human rights, yet they contradictorily sport Nike shoes, H&M dresses and Zara pants.

Note: If you don’t know what I’m hinting at, read this.

The same can be said about vegans who consume palm oil, or vanlifers who consume animal products (that destroy the very nature we want to be surrounded by).

Now look, I always say life is all about balance, and I believe it is, but sometimes — often times — rocking something ethically sourced won’t hurt you in any way, shape or form. Perhaps you’ll pay more for it, but you don’t have to if you buy second hand.

This applies to almost all consumables.

So the first takeaway from this piece is to think twice before your next purchases. Always consider the added value of what you buy, its environmental impact and whether there are other alternatives.

That’s one way to tackle this paradox.

Another reason we engage in actions that cause harm to nature is our toxic sense of entitlement, or deservingness.

This manifests itself in different forms: Arrogance, greed, boastfulness or in some cases, negative narcissism.

Some of us behave as if the world owes us. This sense of entitlement emanates from a lack of self-awareness and gratitude, which itself is the result of a Godless, non-religious and non-spiritual society.

Many people believe, wholeheartedly and arrogantly, that everything they have was owed to them.

Hustle culture prescribes “hard work and determination” as the ultimate solution for success, often discarding external factors that also contribute to one’s accomplishments.

Unfortunately, such attitude blinds us from seeing the bigger picture: That none of what we have, none of what we achieve is truly ours, and that it can be taken away from us at any time. It will be when we die.

More humility would do us all a world of good, and without it, we will continue indulging in things that harm us and everything we love.

When the last tree has been cut down, the last fish caught, the last river poisoned, only then will we realize that one cannot eat money. — Native American saying

The third reason behind this great paradox is our lack of concern for the future.

In other words, selfishness.

Social Media may have exasperated this, but many people believe they MUST prioritize their own pleasures and conveniences over the well-being of the environment and future generations.

It’s sickening when you think about it.

But I don’t blame us, not entirely. If anything, we were programmed and brought up this way, but it’s time for a change, a big one.

As a matter of fact, we can’t live like we did 30 years ago, times are changing and so should we, evolution and all.

Indeed, our planet can’t sustain our greed and selfishness for too long, and the time to turn things around is now.

I would never advocate for anything radical, life is all about balance once again.

As such, we don’t have to move to self-built huts, nor do we have to wear banana leaves, but it’s our duty to watch what we consume, how we consume it, and what we want to support.

Your dollars are more potent than your vote and your words. So put your money where your mouth is.

  • How

You see, I often write about boycotting certain products: Palm oil, white sugar, animal products, single use plastic, brands that pollute our water and source their products in Chinese slave camps and Bengali/Indian sweatshops, brands that support wars, so on and so forth.

To take part of this would make the world significantly better. To do so and to raised our collective awareness is as close to perfection as we can get.

That and reversing consumerism. Remember, minimalism (and essentialism) isn’t just an aesthetic, it’s a philosophy.

In 1927, a Boston-born, Harvard educated son of immigrants went to work for Lehman Brothers. His name was Paul Mazur and his interest in the economics of consumption and retailing made him a rising star in the investment banking establishment for more than 50 years.

Mostly he was responsible for manipulating the psyche of the American consumer. — Sherry Truitt

His philosophy in a nutshell:

“We must shift America from a needs, to a desires culture,” He wrote. “People must be trained to desire, to want new things even before the old had been entirely consumed. We must shape a new mentality in America. Man’s desires must overshadow his needs.”

“Man’s desires must overshadow his needs.” That’s a powerful statement, and a scary one.

So you see, as stated above, human beings are born good, but we were led astray for many decades.

Indeed, our actions are often shaped by cultural and societal norms. Unfortunately, said norms favor efficiency and convenience over wellbeing and ethics. They also favor desires over altruism and consumerism over self-awareness.

We all follow patterns and attitudes considered “normal” in our society, hence why we hardly question anything.

With that being said, let’s not forget that we’re still human, and luckily for us, God bestowed upon us reason and logic.

God gave us free will too, so it’s on us to outgrow our biases and harness original thinking.

  • Final word

All in all, the paradox of enjoying and destroying nature at the same time is a complex and deeply ingrained issue.

It’s not just about individual behavior, it’s rooted in our cultural, political, and economic systems, making it extremely difficult to shake off.

The one thing I want to leave you with is to question things and at least make sure your actions are aligned with your values, that’s it.

Perhaps some of us have a stronger moral obligation to protect nature, while others don’t. That’s okay, life can’t be perfect and neither can we, but does that mean we should stop trying?

Peace!

Tee.

The harms of sugar and salt and how to get away from the addiction

August 14, 2023 — 1 Comment

Indulging in an excessive array of sugary and salty foods leaves our taste buds in a state of numbed oblivion.

As a result, we find it harder to enjoy the natural flavors of healthier foods.

how to beat sugar addicition by Teekay Rezeau-Merah
Sugar addiction by wayhomestudio on Freepik

It’s a vicious cycle, really: The more sweets and salty foods we consume, the less we taste, so we crave even more of them to feel satisfied. Artificial sweeteners and sucrose activate the brain’s natural reward pathway like drugs, releasing dopamine.

From a health point of view, resetting your taste buds will decrease your cravings for sweets and salty foods, thus leading to better eating habits.

But most importantly, resetting your taste buds will lead to a more nutrient-dense diet. Fruits, vegetables, whole grains, green proteins, herbs and spices offer a wide range of essential nutrients that contribute to overall health and well-being.

  • “So How Can I Reset my Taste Buds ?”

That’s the million dollar question, with a 0 dollar solution: Intermittent Fasting.

Intermittent Fasting is the fastest way to good health.

In fact, did you know fasting is used as a method to reverse cancer and tumor growth ?

Dr. Sebi and now Chris Beat Cancer, among many others, talks about it a lot on his podcast. I highly recommend his content for health freaks and people who want to learn more about holistic medicine as a cure for cancer.

Think about it: Do you ever feel hungry when you’re sick ? No, no you don’t. Eating is the last thing I want to do when I’m sick. It’s ironic because, even though society (and our parents) often encourage us to eat for energy and to combat illnesses, it always feels like we’re going against our natural instincts.

That’s because we are.

But things get even more interesting.

Did you know that it takes our digestive system 24 to 72 hours to digest a meal ? Yes, one single meal.

It’s fascinating because the likes of Kelloggs, Nestle, Mickey Dee’s did such a great advertising job and so much brainwashing that we now think eating 3 to 4 times a day is normal. It’s the healthy way to be.

From Happy Meals to morning cereals and lunch menus, we are constantly bombarded with messages telling us to consume more. More of everything, but let’s stick to food.

Sugar Psychology: Does Sugar Promote Consumerism ?

Consuming three meals a day is taxing to the body. It overloads your digestive system. In other words, your digestive system is often living three days in just one.

That’s why our societies are now ridden with illness and all sorts of diseases. That’s why the numbers of SADS, or Sudden Adult Death Syndrome are increasing as time progresses. Of course, that and some other factors, including but not limited to the quality of food we eat.

  • How to Stay Healthy Today

Stop taxing your digestive system and your body.

Intermittent Fasting, proper hydration and the right foods can change your life. Literally, not figuratively.

Intermittent Fasting and a balanced diet can help you keep a healthy weight, detach yourself from addictions and sleep well/better.

10 Unconventional Ways to Improve Sleep

Besides, Intermittent Fasting not only saves you time but also reduces your expenses.

  • How to start Intermittent Fasting for beginners ?

First of all, breakfast is NOT a meal. It’s the moment when you BREAK your FAST. That can be at any moment in the day.

A good rule of thumb is to start your day with a tall glass of water. Add some lemon, cucumber or mint for better taste and hydration.

Starting the day with a glass of water gives your digestive system a gentle nudge, setting it on a healthy path for the day ahead.

The Unbelievable Benefits of Drinking Water on an Empty Stomach !

Now, as for breaking your fast with a meal, another good rule of thumb is to have your first meal when the sun is the highest in the sky, and to stop eating when the sun goes down. This obviously changes depending on the seasons, as the sun sets much later in the summer.

To start your Intermittent Fasting journey, start slow, perhaps with a 14:10 or 16:8 method, then walk your way back to an ideal of 18:6.

I have been on the 18:6 method for several years. This means that I abstain from eating for 18 hours, then eat during the following 6. I usually eat between 2PM (first meal) and 8PM (last meal). I don’t snack in between, except when I’m at the beach ^^

My favorite snacks are fresh fruits and dry fruits. I love oats as well, so at times I just make myself a bowl of oats with oat milk and a bunch of dried fruits (apricots, berries, nuts etc.).

Intermittent Fasting allows the body to properly detoxify itself with the help of your liver (hence the importance of hydration), thus self-healing.

  • Final Thoughts

I started this piece with the idea of resetting your taste buds, Intermittent Fasting is the way to go, but don’t forget your bitters and your ginger drink.

Jamaicans (and Rastafarians) who practice the Ital diet will tell you that ginger drinks are extremely important to detoxify the body, and they’re right.

Rastafarianism in a nutshell

Bitters and ginger drinks also cleanse your system of mucus, the source of most diseases. But that’s another story for another day.

Thanks for reading.

Teekay.