As I stood there watching cows (or as the kids and I call them, poop-a-lots) I got the strange sensation that something wasn't quite right with my Rockwell picture. I studied the scene looking for the lurking coyote in sheeps clothing or the space alien about to disembowel a few head of cattle, but nothing happened.
Then something caught my eye. At first it didn't seem odd, but the more I looked at it, the more I sensed something not altogether correct. It was just a cow chewing the leaves off one of the many low shrubs on the hill. Then I noticed something I had never seen before. This cow, this white cow, was standing on a rock.
Now this wasn't just a rock. This was a rock the size and shape of a Volkswagon Beetle. It was even shaped somewhat like a Beetle, nice rounded edges and rooftop.It was about halfway up the hillside nestled among a few shrubs , on a fairly steep portion of hill. Now, if I would have been up there I would have had a hard enough time getting on this rock because of it's location and the slant of the hill, so my mind instantly went back to the alien. I figured that was the only way this cow could have landed where it had. It had to have been placed there.Of course I let that idea go fairly quickly, but maybe not quick enough for some.
Or it could have walked up to that rock, saw the tender, enticing, delectable leaves and said to itself, "I'm gonna get me some of that." Then it would have proceeded to survey the situation, the angles, the payoff, and then made it's way on to the rock by sheer cow willpower.
Or it could have been the alien.
I stood there for 10 minutes or so wondering, figuring, calculating, trying to solve how thw cow got on the rock when I began to realize I had somehow gone from wondering how the cow got on the rock, to wondering how I got there. There, as in, how had I gotten to there in my life.
My steps began to resurface from memory. All of the right ones, the ones that I THOUGHT were right, and all of my own missteps. How many times had I slipped and tumbled down that hill? Had I ever been lucky enough to land on a boulder with a meal waiting for me?
That cow on a rock had opened up many portals to my life. I was suddenly swamped with happiness and regret like some sort of tsunami. I began to fight with myself to try and make any kind of sense from this cow and it's relation to me. Then I was hit as hard as a cow in an Ohio field at night that was about to be tipped by some local yokel......not that I would know anything about that, by the way.
I was fighting myself over a cow on a rock. Why? Why wasn't I able to just accept the cow on a rock? Did it really make any difference how it got there? It was there and it seemed to be having one hell of a breakfast. Yet I was fighting it.
It was just about then that the cow began to glow (not really) and I understood something about myself that I had never understood before.I should have sat down or found my own rock to stand on, but I didn't. As far back as I can remember I have always fought with myself, whether it be what to have for dinner, how to swing at a curveball, where to travel to next, or more seriously, fought with my emotions towards myself and others. I understood at that moment that I have always fought with myself so how could I not fight with others.
I turned and just began to walk farther into the preserve.
I must have walked another 20 minutes or so when I realized my back and leg were not feeling good. Under most circumstances I would have tried to walk through the discomfort and try to walk a little further than the day before. But the pain wouldn't lessen and rather than "fight" through the pain I did what most would call the smart thing,, I turned around and began to head back. No fighting myself over this one little moment in life.Maybe I was on to something that could finally, truly change my life for the better. Only time will tell.
As I approached the hillside with the cow on a rock I noticed I was no longer thinking of how the cow got on the rock, but rather, if the cow was still on the rock. I came out of a grove of oak trees and began to scan the hillside for the cow on a rock. I struggeled with the glare of the morning sun off of the golden grass. Then I saw the cow.
It wasn't on the rock any longer.
In the 40 or so minutes it took me to return to this spot the cow on a rock had managed to get off of the rock and was now slowly walking among his peers chewing and just being like any other cow.
How did it get down? Had it put on some rock climbing shoes over it's hooves and pulled out some rope, an ascender, and a pulley system and let itself down slowly and lightly until it reached solid ground? Had it simply slipped and fell and landed on it's feet or side and then righted itself hoping that none of it's cow buddies had noticed? Did the alien tire of it's game and levitate it back down? Or did it just get down?
At this point it didn't matter to me any longer. I wasn't going to get in a fight with myself about it. It was what it was and I was lucky enough to be a part of something.
So if you are still here reading I would like to say something to you.
If in my life you have been the cow on a rock, I woiuld like to apologize to you. I should never have fought with you about how you got on the rock. I should have just appreciated that you were on the rock.
Peace.