Musings on nature, hesitation and milking a cow…

Children are sometimes hesitant to try new things. We egg them on, encourage them, extol benefits… you know the drill…

Often times as adults, we weigh the situation, determine if we should do it, hum, haw, hesitate…

Then we watch a child jump into that same situation with a no-big-deal attitude that makes us question what we’re waiting for.

We are all about making educated guesses, about ‘discretion being the better part of valor’ and all those good things.

Children seem to follow their intuition. Life is simpler to them, situations easier.

Especially of things in nature, environments in which they are comfortable and people with whom they are happy to be.

Take for instance, our recent trip to Satara in Maharashtra, India. Our ten-year-old loves it there. When I told her of our trip to India, the first question she asked was if we were going to Satara.

Not only is she extremely fond of the relatives who indulge and pamper her, but my guess is that she enjoys their lifestyle that is so close to nature. Her aunt puts food to cook on an outdoor earthen stove, where the food bubbles and cooks happily for hours on heat generated by twigs and leaves. Everything tastes so much better.

She talks excitedly about their sugarcane-eating dog, Chikoo. The dog eats sugarcane - not like most canines who would simply wolf it down. No, this intelligent creature gnaws on a piece of sugarcane till all the sugary juicy goodness is gone and then spits out the stringy remnants – just as humans do.

Much as I marvel this creature, I do not go near him, as he may not be the friendliest of souls. She, however, rushes to meet and pet him. He seems to not mind the attention either. Surprised, I go near, making sure he is tied. The dog eyes me suspiciously and we hear a low growl forming at his throat.

“I don’t think he likes you”, announces the ten-year-old. Hmm… Obviously, another generation has failed in the tact department, I think.  
Does he truly not like me or does he simply sense my apprehension – and is that contagious?

On arrival, we go to the stable where her cousin is milking the cows. He asks her is she would like to try. Without an ounce of hesitation, she walks to the cow, sits on the stool he puts before her, and follows instructions. (Yes. Follows instructions.)   

I stare in amazement at her ease, her willingness to try new things… I wonder if it is the same child.

He asks me if I would like to try. I hesitate. I wonder if we may have exhausted the poor cow’s patience. She is one of two cows unlikely to kick when milked by a stranger. I decide it best to give her a break and wait for the next milking in the morning.

I mull over it some more and deliberate if I should further torture the poor cow. Will she give me a nice solid kick?

I put my hesitation aside, wake up bright and early, and give it a try. While milking the cow, which feels both strange and intimate, I am flooded with compassion for this creature. I am happy to be there with the cows and their gentleness and fears of being kicked melt away. Hesitation does take grip again and I wonder if I may be tormenting her with my lack of technique.

I think of how nonchalant my kid was about the whole matter. So much more seamless, so much more natural, so much more intuition-driven rather than thought.

I wonder again if it is natural proximity to nature, which given her age and life-experience is still somewhat intact. Children, with their intuitive sense, know what is natural and embrace it easily and willingly.

I question when and how we lose that in the ‘growing-up’ process. I wonder if she will lose some of it in her daily overly-urban living.

And when she does, I hope such experiences and her fondness of family who live so close to nature in Satara, will bring her back.