Post by kari moo on Oct 30, 2020 12:55:55 GMT -5
Milking the cows every morning provides nourishment, a sense of purpose, and a pleasant and humbling affirmation that something grand flows through everything. A friend once described how milking the cow every morning brought her through the darkest days that followed the sudden death of her healthy, teenage daughter. One of my favorite spiritual blog posts recently talked about difficulty in getting out of bed in the morning when mind chews on details of life. This brought to mind a time in my life that was filled with mornings like that and I felt confused about the memory until I remembered that it exits only as a memory because now there are cows. I live in community with cows. They feed my family. They create soil that lays in my garden. Cows are everything to me now.
To this day, appreciation permeates every morning due to an experience that occurred at the very beginning of my time on the farm. Told to walk back out in the pasture and bring so-and-so cow up to the milk house, I felt invigorated by this particular responsibility. I was new to the farm, new to cows, new to every thing it seemed. I was 35 years old, starting over in life. My bliss had presented itself and I followed unquestioningly. The cow was located and responded to my attempts at directing her towards the milk house to be milked with the others. She walked, she moved, she changed direction and walked some more and she taught me a lesson that has become dear to my grateful heart. Cows don't have to come up to the milk house. They weigh at least 4 times more than me, they run faster than I do, and these cows proudly wear their horns intact. Every single time a milk cow leaves her pasture and walks up to the milk house stands as the greatest blessing of my day. Done. First thing in the morning, I am deeply blessed by this generous being.
To this day, appreciation permeates every morning due to an experience that occurred at the very beginning of my time on the farm. Told to walk back out in the pasture and bring so-and-so cow up to the milk house, I felt invigorated by this particular responsibility. I was new to the farm, new to cows, new to every thing it seemed. I was 35 years old, starting over in life. My bliss had presented itself and I followed unquestioningly. The cow was located and responded to my attempts at directing her towards the milk house to be milked with the others. She walked, she moved, she changed direction and walked some more and she taught me a lesson that has become dear to my grateful heart. Cows don't have to come up to the milk house. They weigh at least 4 times more than me, they run faster than I do, and these cows proudly wear their horns intact. Every single time a milk cow leaves her pasture and walks up to the milk house stands as the greatest blessing of my day. Done. First thing in the morning, I am deeply blessed by this generous being.