Go where the grass grows..

Watching the cow give a bucked-tooth grin at me while his face was getting pricked by the thorny grass made me realise one thing. It wasn't about the grass, and how it appeared to so many other cows that mattered. It was about how our dear friendly and happy cow felt about the grass that mattered. Many times we face obstacles constructed not by ourselves, but by those around us.

Negativity is a powerful tool. In a crowd of optimistic cows, all it takes is a small, negative cow to say no, to drag them back to pessimism. The happy cow told me this,"This world is full of all types of grass. You must learn to find your own grass. Stay with the herd, and the only grass you get will be the same grass you have been sharing with the herd all this while. They may tell you it is tasty, but only because that is all that they have.

"In your quest for your perfect grass, you will taste the most bitter grass ever grown. You will taste the sharpest blades known to all cows. You will tread on rocks and sharp stones. But the day that you find your own pasture with your favourite grass, all that pain will be worth it. Seek your own pasture, for there is where you'll find the best grass."

I have been part of my herd all my life. They have provided me with shelter and grass, companionship and support. Many cows in the herd speak of the grass we have as being the best there is, and talk about the perils of wandering beyond, about the dangers that make a journey out hardly worth the effort. But after listening to the happy cow, I began to look at the lives of the cows within the herd.

Mandy was one of the cows whom I'd known all my life. She was a hardworking, determined cow who loved to offer her milk for contribution to the herd's total. Mandy was one of the most loyal cows I'd ever known. She was a staunch believer that the leader cows were the ones who had proven themselves with their knowledge and experience, and she listened to every word they said. Because of this, she had the firm belief that the grass our herd now grazed on, was the best there was. I remember she told me once, that she once thought of venturing to look for new pastures, but never did so. Maybe it was because she felt safe here, with those leader cows looking over our pasture. Yet when I saw her again that day, she seemed weary and tired, but contented. Perhaps it was because of the dreams she had sacrificed, just to spend her life producing milk for the herd. And looking at her, I didn't know what to feel; respect or regret.

Carl, on the other hand, was one of the laziest cows I'd ever seen. He was fat and sloppy, with reams of skin bulging from beneath him. I hated him. Often, when all the cows were busy giving their fair share of milk, he would be laying down in the shade somewhere, slowly grinding several blades of grass with his lazy teeth. He was a delinquent, a burden and a total slob. It was only because of cows like Mandy, who worked extra hard, that we managed to meet our monthly milk targets. Carl wasn't always this lazy. I remember him being energetic and bubbly when he was younger. Somewhere along the way, I guess Carl realised that he could get away with being a total loser. He probably thought that since he could just drift through life without putting in any hard work, he would. Honestly, I hated cows like that. There was this one time where the leader cows tried to scold him and nudge him along, but all he did was grunt and roll over. It was because of cows like Carl, that the other cows who deserved better, cows like Mandy, had to work harder and suffered at their expense.

--will be continued-