After a spiritually challenging day yesterday, I just wanted to curl up in my bed and forget the world for awhile. Instead, I took my own advice, put the dogs in the car, and drove out to my favorite spot in the country to take a walk. Needless to say, the challenges are still here this morning, but time out in Creation last night helped to put things in perspective.
As I came upon a group of cows, I remembered this post from a couple of years ago. I sat for a bit and just allowed their peace from their gentle souls to wash over me. Grace.
There is only one moment in time when it is essential to awaken. That moment is now. ~The Buddha (c.563-483BCE)
When I go walking, my preference is to head out to a country road rather than a park or neighborhood. It is more
peaceful for my spirit and affords me an opportunity to reconnect with nature while I exercise. Sometimes, after visiting my parents, I will stop at a road that meanders through green fields and farm land. The place where I park my car is across from a meadow with cows. Having had a fascination with these animals when I was little, I always stop to say hello.
One particular day, I was short on time and really wanted to get a quick walk in before picking up my daughter. I stopped, however, to greet the friendly beasts in their pasture. One cow came over to size me up but then took off in haste when I moved my arm to touch its nose. I waited patiently—my hand extended while I sat in the tall green grass.
I looked at my watch—if I don’t leave now, I’ll never get a good walk in before I have to leave. Yet, there was something about that moment in time that drew me to just sitting there—just being. Frequently, I am in a rush or am multitasking to get everything done. Rarely do I sit and focus on one thing or better yet, focus on nothing at all. Waiting on the cows that day just gave me time to “awaken” in many ways—it allowed me to appreciate the quiet of the countryside, to take in the warm sun on an atypical spring-like day, to delight in the simplicity of nature and creation, and to still my heart and soul while doing something just for me.
After about 10 minutes, I noticed more cows ambling along toward me. Before I knew it, there must have been 30 creatures crowded around the fence—they seemed to be sizing me up as I watched them through the barbed wire. My hand still extended, I slowly moved it closer to the cow right in front of me. He jerked back a bit then craned his neck forward and kissed me on my hand. The others watched cautiously, but slowly, a few others came over and did the same.
No, I didn’t get my walk in that day, but it didn’t really matter. Something as simple as waiting on the cows offered me a gift I would have missed had I rushed on with my afternoon. I had the opportunity to find balance and peace, and that was enough.