Grounding Piles

I grew up on a farm. Behind the barn was a cow pasture. The pasture lay between the backside of the barn and the field that led to the woods. There were several routes one could take to the woods that lay behind the barn and through the field. Why I fancied the cow pasture route I'm not sure, but one day I climbed the fence to the cow pasture to traverse to the woods. I stood just over the fence facing the handful of cows milling aimlessly around the pasture. In front of me, like landmines in war, stood mountainous piles of cow shit haphazardly strewn between me and the other side of the pasture. 

Slowly I took off my shoes, and with a bit of fear of the cows and my Pippi Longstocking-ness strange tomboy ways, I took off running. I hit one of those cow shit piles full boar. It was still relatively fresh and warm as it gushed between my toes. Oddly, it felt strangely good. I ran through the next one and a handful more until I reached the other side of the pasture. 

In this our current society that is a form of grounding. Grounding is simply being barefoot and connecting to the earth.  It is said that it has energy and health benefits. This was long before that was a trendy thing. It was just a tomboy kid thing, a tomboy  experience that was oddly enough, kind of exhilarating. Tough and gross were not daunting for me. 

The cow pasture/cow shit landmine route became my path of choice. Usually, I saved it for my route FROM the woods back to the house so I could wash my feet immediately after. There was simply a wildness to running that fast from the cows through a maze of warm, soft cow piles that made me feel alive. The risk of bacteria was nowhere on my radar back then.

Shit isn't always totally 100% unpleasant. There can be found in it something palatable, maybe even a skill honed from it.

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