Revisionist History - Velu Lesson
[Oops! No wonder I was finding it clunky trying to write 'The Byre' section of The Book, I have just discovered the series of blog posts I wrote at the time, including the Velu escapade. It differs a little from the last post so for the sake of accuracy I'm noting the edited version here. And can I just also note that whoever is reading these excerpts, you are silently goading me on wonderfully, thank you!]
‘Velooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!’
She is not where we left her, tied up on the shady side of the barn. We are running down the knobbly track, away from the barn-about-to-be-a-theatre, away from the tensions, away from the shouting of commands and the gloom of rehearsing-not-getting-any-where…
… into the blinding sunlight, into the noon-day heat, into the likelihood of incurring Marthe’s fury.
We have let Velu escape. I’m convinced I tied the proper quick release knot which I’ve been practising. Has Velu pulled it?
Poets are allowed to be a bit weird - and I'm no exception. Every day I’ve been taking a 'word for the day' and on Day Three of my visit at La Combe it’s 'harmony'...
‘Oh, how lovely! Harmony means everything's gentle, smooth and pleasant doesn't it?’
The Universe laughs!
We’re going through the whole 'Black Beauty Ballet' show (animals, humans and props) for the first time... and singing two musical numbers 'in harmony'.
It all seems rather discordant to me.
But life - in its typically synchronistic way – has Marthe explaining what real 'harmony' is. My ears are pricked up. It’s not a contrived, imposed and forced dressage-type harmony but something altogether different...
As I begin to comprehend, true interspecies 'harmony' comes from ecocentric (as opposed to anthropomorphic and egocentric) relationships where a robust sense of concord evolves naturally.
How? I observe the deep understanding and one-to-one attention which allows for the individual - whether human or animal - to absorb, learn and respond at his or her own pace. It’s not how I’ve lived my life to-date.
I decide to call this 'strong harmony'.
And then, Velu escapes…
We will not be there where it’s our turn to play our part, which consists of attempting to get Velu to pull a small cart which will be kitted out to look like a gypsy wagon round the perimeter of the arena.
We are hit by a quiver full of ‘what if’s..’
‘What if Velu has gone up the mountain?’ ‘What if she’s gone towards the road?’ ‘What will they do without us?’ ‘What if she’s caught up in the baler twine she was tied up with?’ What will Marthe…’
Ah! We round a bend and THERE she is trotting down the track towards the byre and the fields!
Without considering what language she’s fluent in, without a second’s thought I shout at the top of my voice
‘STOP!’
And – as my journal notes at the time – ‘to my amazement she stops’.
The young, stunningly beautiful Jersey cow seems to have got my drift. But that’s her interspecies conversing for the day done.
She makes no attempt to move as I rest my arms on her rump. She ignores my asthmatic wheezing.
We attempt leading this beauty to the patch of brown pretending to be grass at the side of the track.
No. Not going.
We need help.
‘Heeeeeeeeeeelp!’
‘Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelp!’
We might as well be shouting to the sun. No one can hear us… except for Velu who probably wishes she couldn’t.
We lose track of time.
You go sit by the trackside and watch the scene unfold.
I’m aware of sweat pouring down my face. I’m thirsty and have no water. I can feel my skin burning up and am boiling with self-recrimination and self-pity. Surely someone will miss us and head down the track towards the farmhouse?
Nope.
Of course I talk to Velu. I start with pleading with her to move. Then wonder if she’s feeling the heat as well? I swat some loathsome black bot flies from her belly as I’ve been taught, with the palm of my hand. I even tentatively tap her rump in the hope it will give her a sense of recall and she’ll be minded to move in a forward direction.
Nope. She stands. Occasionally flicking her tail.
And, eventually, I ask her what she wants,
‘Help me Velu. Help me understand.’
As if she's sent me a message, instantly the smallness and simplicity of our situation dawns on me. The space expands and me with it.
‘Oh! You want nothing but THIS!’
This. Standing here. Doing nothing. Being able to do nothing in the searing heat with the cloudless sky and the vast mountain-scape towering above… THIS.. is… ENOUGH.
‘Thank you. Thank you.’
I laugh and cry simultaneously.
The tears keep coming – out of relief, exhaustion or both, I know not.
Ten minutes later Velu quietly lifts her head, ambles towards a fence post and appears to wait to be tethered to it.
Hold my hand while we slowly walk back up to the barn and humanity, expecting a roasting from Marthe.
But no one seems very bothered when I confess Velu isn't where she's meant to be. To my surprise, Marthe just asked why I didn't let her go, 'she would have been quite safe and it would have been in accordance with the way we operate here...'
I wonder if she has taught her animals to undo quick release knots.
I still have a lot to learn.
The tedious rehearsal comes to a disappointing close. Our ecocentric pace is beyond slow, and utterly exhausting.
Thankfully Marthe believes afternoons are for resting and time out.
#ecocentric #learning #cow #unhurried