The cow sat there… still… lost in its own thoughts.
“Cows think with their mouths,” we had often laughed at their nonchalance. They seemed oblivious to the maddening world around them.
I was disturbed. The cow chewed on unperturbed.
“Did you know, the term ‘rumination’ comes from the cud-chewing of cows?” My mind has an annoying habit of reminding me weird things at odd times. And it also has the habit of dwelling on it endlessly. But this brings a smile on my face and calms my nerves as I feel like a cow – “we have a bond,” I think, “we both ruminate a lot”.
The cow draws from the rumen of its four-chambered stomach; I search within my cortex to recover those undigested memories that I can ruminate on and give words to thoughts that have long held me captive in their inexplicable power. If I ever want to be free, I need to seek out the source that formed me.
I ruminate to find meaning in the seemingly rigid structures of the world around me, where thoughts are held prisoners.
And as I recollect, I feel this prison break… brick by brick… bar by bar. I can feel the fresh breeze. Yes, it’s free.
And I am free with it, when I am transformed and I embody the change I want to see…