Tipping The Ultimate Sacred Cow

1150278_693894280675053_1228448092_nIt seems at every turn, every careful step I take in this pasture of life I find a sacred cow. Sacred cows about love, sacred cows about spirituality, sacred cows about the world I live in and sometimes they tip easily and sometimes…well have you ever tried to tip a sacred cow, geez!  Some of those babies really dig in!

Of course they do, those cows represent our story, they’re our past and we hold on tight to those milkers, we go all Cattle Kate and corral those lovely bovines into our little pasture and lock ‘em up, all safe and sound. Every once in a while a thought pops into our pasture, a little voice of reason who asks “do I really like this cow “ and tries to set free the lovely Bessie and we go running off to lasso that beauty up, lest we loose ourselves, lest we forget how hard it was to raise that calf to the full grown sacred cow it has become. And when it’s safe back in our pasture we look it in the eye, that belief about who we are and well tell it never to leave us again. Because even if we know deep inside it’s just a belief, it’s just a lie we’re telling ourselves, it’s our lie, it’s our story and be damned if we’re going to let it go.

That’s what we do, we protect our sacred cows with our life, so much so that we often end up living a life we don’t really want, a life that doesn’t match us. We end up matching it. I mean I never really wanted to be a Cattle rancher, yet there I was sitting on my porch, shotgun in hand ready to shoot anyone or anything that dares separate me from my most precious of sacred cows, my past. The story that gives me my “I AM”.

Until one day, I saw myself alone, well except for my cows and I finally could smell the caked up cow manure on my boots and I couldn’t take it anymore. It reeked, my life reeked and I gagged and I struggled to breath and could barely move my feet under the weight of so much shit piled up around me and I ran full speed towards the gate of my pasture and I opened it and one by one began to set my cows free. It’s an ongoing process, I had collected a lot of cows.

As the pasture has become a lot less crowded, I found a little clarity and shared my past, my cows, how I collected them and how I began to set them free in a book called TIPPING SACRED COWS, which was released this January. And boy was that sacred cow a biggie!  To openly expose my most hidden cows . To be vulnerable to judgment, to ridicule and to be found out, that maybe I wasn’t the all-knowing girl I pretended to be, to tell my story of my past once and for all. There it is, in print and now I don’t feel the need to hold onto it so tightly, it doesn’t even feel like it is anymore, it was and now it’s not.

For the last few months I have been traveling about doing readings and events around my book and as I read the words written they almost feel foreign to me. I want to reach into those pages and hug that girl and tell her it’s all going to be alright, but she knows that.

On one of my adventures recently I was gifted with an amazing evening under the stars with a magnificent fireplace and as I sat with a delicious glass of wine, in the arms of a most wonderful man, seemingly so far away from the past I once held so dear, I gazed deeply into the flames, it burned so hot the tips were blue and in them I could only see my future. I felt such love, love I hadn’t felt in so long, oh and not just because I was with a hot guy (oh and I was), but that love that is so often talked about, but never quite attained. It was there all around me and within me. I felt a strong urge to say goodbye, to say thank you to my cows, the ones that I had set free, to wish my past one final farewell, so I did and into the fire I threw my book, the one I had cried over while writing, the one that held the story I told myself for long, the one that had given me the map of the way out, that book. I sat there as it burned slowly, watching the flames eat away each page. I saw little embers escape from the chimney and disappear into the night.  And as it became nothing but ashes I felt overwhelmed with joy, because within those ashes I saw me I was to become.