I Have Dairy Cow Syndrome

In our society as we have shifted to a more sophisticated way of life, we suppose that somehow we have left behind the horse, the mules, and dairy cows to become more advanced, and savvy. But I wonder if we have really left the animals behind, or have simply viewed ourselves as them, in some morbid sort of away. If you don't follow, then let me lead.

I have dairy cow syndrome.

You maybe thinking...

"I'm sorry ..is that a rash?"

"Shouldn't you keep that to yourself?"

"Did our kids play together recently...ummm... I hope not!"

Or maybe you wonder-

 "What the Heck is that?"

It's simple. You probably have it too.. but not as bad as I did. If so, I feel sorry for you. I hope you can blog and heal as I have.

Dairy Cow syndrome is when we esteem ourselves like we would a good dairy cow. It happens when a majority of our feelings of self worth come from what we produce,  provide, accomplish.

When I think of a good dairy cow, I think "A good dairy cow will...

* Produce

* Be there from sun up to sun down

* Provide for others

It can show up in our career, in our children, in our marriage.

And over time, dairy cow syndrome becomes so ingrained in us, that we began to believe that our achievements define our worth.

And most of us never know we have it, until we can't live it.

I had dairy cow syndrome real bad-

* I worked from sun up to sun down ( sometimes 12 hour days)

* I produced more material and work for my business to keep me busy for weeks

* I provided 50% of our income

I was the queen of dairy cow syndrome. And my dairy cow mentality was going to carry me through life. One day, I would be the millionaire. The best producing, most efficient, most talented, riches dairy cow syndrome afflicted women in town.

Produce Produce Produce,  Provide, Provide, Provide, dairy cow, dairy cow, dairy cow.

Little did I know that my thinking was off base. Deep down I believed that if everything I worked for went away, I would be okay. It's only a game. And if I lost, no biggie! I would just get back up and play again.

That was until I lost. And I couldn't get back up.

When cataplexy struck, and it did strike- over night I was paralyzed, limp, in bed, unable to move.

" If I was cow, they'd shoot me" I told my husband.

He laughed.

Good thing I'm not a cow.

But the days moved on, and no one tried to shoot me.

In fact, I was amazed at how many people took time to serve me.

I remember the widow who came over to bring me homemade bread. I sat on my couch and asked her how she was. She poured out her heart. I felt her pain. I had known her for many years, and for the first time- in a long time-


 I listened.

When the local restaurant owner came to my house once a week to bring my family their favorite meal,    ( which we could no longer afford to buy ourselves), he sat and talked about his life, his business, his dreams and how its struggling. And for the first time, in a long time, I didn't have  meetings to attend, phone calls to make, chores to do around my house. I sat there, limp.


 And  I listened.

And perhaps the best blessing was that my kids came accustom to visiting me in my bed everyday after school. And while they chatted,laughed, and talked about their day, I laid there. I would go in and out of paralysis, but they didn't care. They had so much to say. And for the first time, in a very long time, I didn't have any excuses, cells phones, meeting, urgent computer work to distract me.


So I listened.

Then I realized, perhaps this is the one thing that might help me stop feeling guilty about not being able to produce, produce, produce, provide, provide, provide, provide, do, do, do.

I can listen.

It's a gift I rarely used in the past, and quite frankly, I didn't know I was missing it so badly.

And while I sat and did nothing, I watched miracles pass through my life.

And the more I listened, the more gratitude I felt.

But it wasn't always easy. In fact, most of the time, it was really hard. I felt grateful to be learning how to listen, but I wanted more. I wanted to be able to really contribute,really give back, really help other people, really produce an income. Deep down, I still had dairy cow syndrome.

Then one night, after Isaac had put the kids to sleep and cleaned the house, he laid down next me, where I had been laying all day.

I inched towards him and laid my head on his chest. Tears began falling down my cheeks.

"Isaac, I am so scared" I whispered. " What if I'm always like THIS?"

Tired but full of hope he replied, "God has a plan for us Jodi. I know it."

 Then I closed my eyes, began to pray, and I asked God what His plan was for me-

 And for the first time, in a really, really long time, I listened.