I simply adore cows, and I'm not talking the "in patty-form with ketchup and a thinly sliced pickle on a bun" cow. I love cows in a field. A roly-poly full of space field. I have always had a fondness for those Bos Primigenius, and their ability to regurgitate partially digested food (talented). I am awed by the fact they can drink a bathtub full of water a day (health conscience). I envy the fact that they eat up to forty pounds of food a day, and in my opinion still maintain their cow-ish figures year after year (no image concerns what-so-ever there, folks!).
One of the reasons I wanted to purchase the quaint little dwelling we call home, was that I could sit on the lovely 1980's porcelain white loo and have prime cow viewing. Yes, a big "I am sorry" to the previous owners, but it was a long drive to the house showing, and when you gotta go, you gotta go! I hope the nearby cow smell covered any foul smell I may have left behind. For the loo, you see, overlooked the glorious still in existence (thank goodness for that) farmer's field. That prime VIP seating is not so cow-friendly anymore (although it is still substantial for doing our business), as the evergreens, oaks, and amber waves of grain have blocked the prime piece of real estate mostly from our view, but I welcome the greener, more lush oasis. It paints a new landscape out our 80's Anderson Windowed canvas.
A short hike up a quadriceps femoris strengthening hill though, and the utter beauty of the cows prevails (and their excrement that seems to blanket the side of the road. Oh India! I am already preparing for you!). They are happy and curious with their soft cow eyes that give me a giddy school-girl smile that still inspires me to shout out, "I hope that you are dairy!" even though I believe that even dairy cows have it rough. I know because I breastfed for many moons (didn't that one cow jump over the moon?). I cannot tell you the last time I had a glass of milk. I am still trying to sort through all of the often confusing research to determine if milk truly does "a body good," I am sorry dear farmer neighbor of mine, but talk to my friend Bonnie and you might get totally freaked out, too. Hey goats! Wanna make me some cheese? But I swear a few of those cows walk, even gallop right over to the fence when they see us coming. They know that I love them. They are happy, I see bliss in their eyes.
And so now it comes to this... I prepare for travels to the land where thirty percent of the world's cattle live. Holy cows! It seems that maybe just maybe, I will fit in in India as sweetly as a burger fits into a bun (a veggie burger, of course. With dairy-free vegan cheese, it melts AND stretches!). It seems that in India, I will have a view of cows from every loo, every beach, every street corner, every road. Cows! Cows everywhere! Here a cow, there a cow, everywhere a cow, cow! Cows! Cows! Cows! Sacred and worshiped cows!
In Hinduism you see, the Lord Krishna, a flute playing prankster, a divine hero, a Supreme Being, is often given credit as being the author of India's beloved story the "Bhagavad Gita." The Gita, which is often translated as "The Lord's Song," or "Song of God," is a seven hundred versed scripture that is a part of a bigger epic called the "Mahabharata." Krishna was a cowherd, who was simply adored by his hefty herd. Krishna would play his flute for all of the beings around him, and the cows would soak up the sweet sound and become almost entranced. It is quite fitting that an alternate name for Krishna is "Gobinda," which means "one who is good at finding cows," or "the protector of cows." Although Krishna could be quite naughty at times, he was very dedicated to those lucky cows and served them well.
A cow, or more specifically, a bull, "Nandi" is depicted as the vehicle of Shiva. Shiva! The big S! That "more than meets the eye" God Shiva who is another big time Hindu Deity-Yogi-Transformer- creator-preserver-destroyer-concealer-revealer... whoa! That is a big job that he seems to handle with effortless-effort. Not only does he possess a youthful glow, he also reigns over death, rebirth and immortality. What did I accomplish today? This blog about cows. I hear that there are as many Shiva statues around India as there are cows, but I cannot yet confirm this bit of information. I will get back to you on that one, and surely take lots of pictures of both. Shiva, cows, perhaps a cow standing on top a Shiva statue.
Throughout India there are also many temples that are dedicated solely to the bull Nandi, and he also guards many temples that are dedicated to the mighty Shiva. Nandi is often the color white, which is a symbol for justice and purity. Some Hindu woman worship Nandi, bringing to him sweet offerings of flowers, fruit, sweets or money. They believe that their prayers for fertility will be answered by touching the carved stone of his statue. I will be searching for the beloved Nandi on my travels, touch the stone, not for fertility reasons, but to give honor to all cows everywhere.
Perhaps you have seen a picture or statue of the mighty Shiva on his faithful bull, Nandi. Maybe you have seen dancing Shiva with his ethereal moves, and balancing within his being both creation and destruction involving the total
cosmos. All that exists! My wonderful professor Dr. Miriam Cameron often refers to Shiva during our classes at the University of Minnesota. She asks us to be like Shiva, to embrace the "dance" of our lives with mindfulness and ease. To be "warriors" of our own thinking, and not to dwell on disappointment. She states, "Our true and pure soul does not have negativity, so we need to sweep it clear to find our bliss." That bliss can be revealed to us no matter what life has thrown our way. Whatever ickiness we may have stepped in on our journey. Basically, we should learn to turn our manure into nourishment (Grow from it!). I think the farmers already know that. I can smell that sweet scent of cow stuff from where I sit writing this blog.
Ahhhh... bliss!! Who doesn't hope for that? Laying in a field of golden wheat, or gazing on the beauty of all this Earth exudes (maybe from a loo). A cow in a meadow, a cow in the street. Bask in beauty of this dance of
existence. Find your bliss. Step in the sh@# and learn something from it.
There was a commercial awhile back that
made me a bit agitated, I have to admit. It stated that California cows were happier cows. On the
screen were cows trudging through the deep cold snow. Wisconsin, perhaps? Maybe Calumet County where the bovines (cattle and calves) out-populate the people. Maybe they were in Minnesota on that friendly farmer neighbor's roly-poly field. They showed those Midwestern cows with a look of
sadness in their chocolaty milk-brown eyes. Then, of course, they
pictured the California cows in all of their sun-shiny glory. If I
recall, they were even wearing sunglasses. I have seen those California
cows and they did not look that happy. They looked as if they were searching for something. Bliss perhaps? Maybe some evergreens, oaks, and amber waves of grain. Maybe a little bit of variety in their weather. I think that they are currently on a self-started and organized cattle-drive headed this way. Turns out they DO prefer the Heartland and don't mind a
wintery wonderland after all (and they probably do feel utterly ridiculous wearing sunglasses, I am sure of it!).
I cannot wait to inhale the sweet smells of India. I
cannot wait to dance with whatever comes my way. I cannot wait to look
on the cows of India knowing that they are well looked after, honored,
and loved (by most). I will be sure to wear rubber boots.
Now for some really cutesie, or severely bad cow jokes, depending how you look at it, that will make a seven year old cringe (I know this for a fact), but did not make a future husband run away after a first date (whew!). And by the way, playing John Denver during our first car ride together did not have him running for the cow spotted hills, either. He also stick with me after myriad road trips through the wonderful, silo-sprinkled Wisconsin landscape, where I would shout out the car window an exuberant "Hello!" to those gentle cow giants. Approximately thirty seconds later I would exclaim, "I feel like grabbing a burger." True story. It makes me utterly joyous (sorry), that my sweet man still loves me after all of these bad jokes.
And know for some giggles...
Q: Where do the cows go on Saturday night?
A: To the MOOvies.
Q: Where do cows go when they get married?
A: On a honeyMOOn
Q: What do you call a cow that works for a gardener?
A: a lawn MOOer
Q: Why do cows wear bells?
A: Because their horns don't work.
Q: What do you get when you have a cow and a duck?
A: Milk and Quackers
*** Jokes compliments of : http://www.boyscouttrail.com/content/joke/joke-599.asp
But there was I time I would have swore I made them up! ***** :)
