When a cowboy gets thrown down, they always get back up.
Well, almost always.
Death or mangled limbs and bones do occasionally prevent the immediate pop-up of a cowboy.
But in all other circumstances, it’s usually more dangerous to stay on the ground than to get up and assess the damage and environment.
I admire a cowboy’s resilience in that respect. Most people hesitate, waiting to get up again, tentatively evaluating the wisdom of doing the very thing that got them knocked to the ground in the first place. Cowboys don’t wait around for wisdom. Cowboys don’t wait around for much.
If there’s one thing a cowboy does consistently well, it’s getting on with it.
Such is the way of the world
You can never know
Just where to put all your faith
And how will it grow
Gonna rise up
Burning black holes in dark memories
Gonna rise up
Turning mistakes into gold
Lately I’ve found myself on the ground, intentionally dwelling there and letting my body sink into the floor. Gravity is glorious when you learn to just give in to it. So much easier that way, so exhausting to fight what the world wants us to do. And so much easier to rise from the ground than a higher elevation. Maybe that’s something cowboys just intrinsically know, something they feel. It might not be something you can learn or be taught – it’s possible you either have the instinct to rise or you don’t.
Such is the passage of time
Too fast to fold
Suddenly swallowed by signs
Low and behold
I meditate while sitting in the lotus position, low to the ground. When I’m done, I’ll lie down, flat against the floor, letting myself simply melt into the surface. A literal grounding of self when my head is somewhere up in the clouds. There are times when I’m not meditating that I’ll find my way to the middle of the room, sit down and look at it from the lowest vantage point, because it gives a better perspective on the world. To be so small to not see above a coffee table or plant stand – perhaps this is why some children have such wisdom. Their whole world is right there, and everything that goes over their heads simply doesn’t matter.
Gonna rise up
Find my direction magnetically
Gonna rise up
Throw down my ace in the hole
A cowboy retains a sort of childlike wonder at the world. Some might call that stunted, others immature. I maintain that it is wisdom – wisdom laced with folly perhaps, but it’s the wisdom that matters, even if it’s just a grain. A small bit of wisdom coupled with a hefty dose of wonder is a wonderful way to rise.
