No Naughty Cows 2: or the real post

When I first heard, "An empty barn is better than a barn full of naughty cows," I had this picture of cows just jumping around being naughty -- not behaving like cows are supposed to --not paying attention, just goofing off:clearly, I had no idea what naughty meant in this context. I heard this expression straight from Bikram, and I went around with this image of these silly cows behaving poorly, and I guess maybe the farmer would be better off without them -- maybe the farm was getting really noisy at night and the farmers couldn't get any rest...the situation was out of control with those naughty cows. So, I kept hearing Bikram say,"An empty barn is better, than a barn full of naughty cows," -- and of course I agreed -- I mean, in my mind they had been keeping this farmer up for weeks.

Finally, someone must have asked him to explain what he meant by naughty, because in the middle of yoga class he goes into it. "You can't get milk from that naughty cow!" Finally, I get it: a naughty cow is a cow that won't give you milk. So it's better to get rid of those cows, empty the barn, and that way you'll have room to find good cows that give milk -- that sustain you. It all made perfect sense. Simple, and true. There is a very similar saying in Latino culture (which was like a mantra my mom repeated throughout my childhood and even to this day): "Mejor solo que mal acompañado," translation, "Better alone than in bad company." All three are good sayings -- I am, however, most fond of the naughty cows version because of its fun, colorful and well-suited imagery.

If you have ever put this saying into practice, you have looked at your life and found that the people you are closest to are not sustaining you. You have had to take the step to change your life, by changing the relationships in it. The first step of ridding everybody can be quite liberating and cathartic: "OK, all you naughty cows, OUT, and I mean OUT." You can be all Jackie Gleason about it even. But then comes the empty barn part. The empty, lonely part. And maybe some of us, who have more foresight, don't take the first step, because we think about step two way too much. Now, in practice, the saying proves truer than ever, but not as simple -- the proverbial: easier said than done.

* * * * *

I remember sitting in Larry Moss's acting class in Los Angeles, and an actress named Kate got up, on what Larry would call "The platform -- biggest step you can take.." -- it was a six inch step up to the platform (aka, the stage). Kate performed a monologue and did well. Afterwards Larry spoke to her, as he does after you perform in his class, "How did it feel to you Kate?" She was clearly shaken, but her work had gone so well. He was as perplexed as we (the students sitting in attendance) when and he asked her more questions. "What are you working on professionally?" "I am leaving soon to work on a film," said Kate. I was surprised at her demeanor...I would be walking on sunshine if I was off to shoot a film on location, but then it all became clear. "Do you have support in your life Kate?," was Larry's line of questioning. It seemed, despite her success she didn't have supportive people (only naughty cows!) --- "Well, get rid of them!" Larry said without any apology. And Kate, simply replied, "I did, but now there is nobody left." So there it was, I was witnessing someone in the "empty barn phase."

Sitting in that audience I could feel the deep loneliness, the sorrow in her voice, to which Larry responded, "Good, Kate. Go do your film. It's good to see you up there." It was a personal victory moment for Kate. It was o.k. to have an empty barn...life goes on -- she was moving on.

Larry said, "Good," because he was saying the same thing this little silly saying is saying -- same darn thing my mom has said: Now you have space in your life to fill it with good: be grateful for the empty barn, no matter how hurtful it is right now, honor the empty space, because here in this space without, lies the promise of a better tomorrow, better companions, and a life that is sustainable.

Clearly three cultures can't be wrong: this saying says a lot. Loneliness is sometimes necessary and a great teacher-- not without its fair share of pain, but it is at these moments we can ask ourselves and must ask, "What can I do to overcome this loneliness?" A friend of mine, between writing the, "No Naughty Cows (1) -- and this post, coincidentally e-mailed me the

question: "How do you deal with loneliness?" I wrote back quickly. It was a list of things I do to comfort myself. Because when we are lonely, we are wounded and it is a time to pause, reflect...acknowledge, like Kate did, that there is emptiness. Here is an excerpt of the personal letter I wrote to that close friend, who was looking for some sort of answer:

...give yourself time (I am always especially lonely after I leave my family or have had a break-up -- there is pain in the form of grief and that's okay -- it's ok to feel sad and cry and nurse yourself -- just make sure you rent your favorite movies and make your favorite soothing tea! In other words treat yourself like the exquisite unique being you are!

It may not be old classic films and hot tea, but finding the small comforts -- what you can do for yourself is essential. Because none of these small comforts are really small -- they somehow, in an innocent everyday way connect you with the world outside of the sorrow. So, it goes from a small pampering to a cosmic thought -- that you are not alone in the universe. At the heart of yoga is finding what sustains you from within, and discovering that within you is a connection to the core of existence, and in that deepest and truest of ways you are not alone. A yoga practice has helped me co-exist peacefully with pain in many of its forms, including loneliness. In the empty barn times I look ahead and I am grateful that I have the space to usher in a brighter future.