Born to Die
In one way I suppose we are all "born to die". Life on earth is not eternal, no matter how many vitamins or youth-seeking tricks we use. In the end, we all go down, just like the Titanic..."unsinkable"....not really. (see March 2009's Monthly Practice for more on that analogy).
Yesterday I was invited to a friend's goat farm in a small village where I live in SW France. A family affair... small, my friend and her husband raise about 80 goats for goat's cheese, and in recent years they have received medals and the prestigious 'Rocamadour' appellation ( similiar to a wine "appellation" in France...Bordeaux, Bourgogne, Alsace etc...) for their consciencious efforts.
It was birthing time...no milking.. time for baby goats to enter the world. I was excited and pleased to have been asked for this intimate occasion and had no idea what to expect. The barn was closed, dark, and silent other than the occasional bah. Going down a small stairway, I found my friend Carine, nursing young, adorable baby goats with large baby bottles. Each one had personal attention, and needed to learn to pull on the nipple to make the milk come. Surprised, I asked why they weren't with their mothers. Carine explained that goats are not very maternal and often abandon the baby to die...strange, I thought, but I was so enarmored with the numerous babes, some who had only been born hours before, and others who were barely a day or so old. They were gorgeous, falling over each other in small pens (boys and girls separated), some sleeping, some crying, some trying out their spunky, supple legs cavorting in the pen, tripping over the others. There was a heat lamp to keep them warm and dry the one who had just come from the womb, umbilical cord dangling.
Carine was very gentle, methodical and present. Each babe who had not received milk had a plastic collar around its little neck, so as not be overlooked for its time in the rectangular box designed by her husband, open at one end, that allowed the little goat to kneel and relax in order to feed from a bottle. All received personal attention, and I was totally surprised and awed at so much young, vibrant, new life! Time-consuming activity to say the least, but Carine did everything with gentleness and patience, allowing each litle goat time to suck her fingers before understanding that the nipple on the bottle held the key to the warm, life -giving beverage. What a beautiful experience it was....until I learned that (naturally) they can't keep all the babes, and only want females since males don't give milk...."bien sûr". So they name the ones they plan to keep and the rest remain a number.
"What happens to them", I asked. (I wish I hadn't).
The numbered (unnamed) baby goats are picked up by a man in a truck and taken to Spain where they are fattened for slaughter. Carine informed me they don't eat goat meat in France, but apparently they do, she said, in Spain. "Oh" I responded, my excitement dampened. But it was only later after we had taken a break for tea and cake that the reality sank in....
We returned for the evening feeding, with three more new births. Two larger babes on the straw, boys, scooped up by Carine, were put wet and new in the boys' pen. At this point, two other experienced guy helpers arrived and the business at hand was feeding crying, lively little baby goats. I was able to help with the two larger just-born boys...both of them too big to fit in the feeding box without their front legs hanging out. Wet and new to this game, they struggled and didn't know what they needed to do, until suddenly the lightbulb went on and they settled in to nurse, surveying me with young, unexperienced, but attentive eyes. I tried to dry each one - so damp were they from birthing, I felt they must be cold. And as I looked in their eyes I couldn't help but feel a heavy sadness. How long?...how many days before the man with the truck arrives? Carine had said matter of factly, but with a trace of sadness, that they couldn't keep all the new borns, and it was so much work that they were often relieved when the truck arrived. I kept my eyes in quiet awe on the little boys pulling with energy and desire on their life-giving bottles.
All I could think is "how ccan this be?" How could we have created ways of living that kill...even in small, what are thought of as 'humane' family-run farms? I wanted to DO something to save those little goats...what?? My mind went into overdrive trying to come up with a scheme/idea to save them. I had seen a documentary where Google and other "green" companies use goats to cut the grass of their industrial parks instead of noisy, gas-consuming polluting mowers. Would Google take these little guys? Was their corporate awareness developed enough to save these goats from a cold, fattening expereince in pens , then a slaughter house? I wondered, should I take them? Put them where? I thought about land I have wondered aboutbuying...that I do not own...anything to save those eager, lively little beings who looked at me clearly and without reproach...just full of curiosity and new life.
On my drive home I felt sad, upset...the vision of the two condemned, little boy goats, and 2/3 of the rest of them...the cute little frolicking creamy one, the two-toned brown and black, talkative one....and all the others I had not focused on for fear of the pain of the reality. Born to die! Those little, full-of life creatures are born to die, and it is the way we, human beings have organized food production (to repond to our every want and desire) that is responsible. When I returned home, I felt horrible....then guilty....guilty to be part of the human race. Everywhere I turn it seems we destroy with little respect for life...whether in nature, the oceans, or even in other countries...we are selfish, self-centered, money-driven and short-sighted. How have we cut ourselves off to such a degree from the respect and awe of life? We drive ourselves from one distraction to another, eat with no relish or enjoyment, and destroy the world that is our own home in our mad race for distraction or profit....running around crazily, similar to chickens with their heads cut off.
My practice for this period, this bi-monthly period of February and March 2011, is to slow down, take stock, look around and start to determine what is important in life, in your own life?
What are your values, not just in a short sighted me-oriented perspective?
What kind of society do you want... a violent one where people live in fear of others, needing alarms , fire-arms, an important national defense budget and more prisons to protect us from the enemy?
And what is our relationship to life....life of all kind...not just human life?
These questions are so important in the fast-moving, isolating yet global world we live in today...and I believe they are pressing, urgent.
I believe we have no right to do much of what we do.... Who gave us the right to deprive those little curious goats I just witnessed arriving on earth, the pleasure of sweet new grass this Spring, the feeling of the wind in their face and the earth beneath their strong, little hooves....I fear they will know none of these experiences, more like being shoved with others into a tight penned-in truck, prodded by bars to push them in, then a long, long noisy, truck trip, then....shouting and prodding again (perhaps with electric shocks) to push them out into....I dare not imagine. Perhaps their mother goats are not such bad mothers after all....perhaps they know on some level what awaits their new-born progeny...in that case it may be better to leave them to die on the warm straw in the 'safe ' barn where they are born.
Born to die...We all die, but how do we live? What is important to us, and how do we give our lives meaning? What do we inflict on others, whether in our families, companies, or on the animals we sacrifice for our own sustenance? Funny how we have created a society that most people when you speak to them individually, do not want.
I wish you deep reflection, questioning and sharing in your families and communities. May we all learn to live in, and cultivate peace! It will take a deepening of awareness...questioning, desire, and will to birth a new humanity.May we awaken before it's too late.
Blessings and love,
Abigail
Abigail DeSoto
Transformational Coach & Psychosynthesis Guide
www.inner-discovery.com
