I heard a question on the radio this morning that made me smile. And then it made me think.
Are you a buffalo or a cow?
Not exactly the question you expect to carry around with you all day, is it?
There’s a familiar story about the way these two animals respond when a storm approaches. As the story goes, a cow turns away from the storm and tries to escape it. The buffalo faces into the weather instead. In this story, the cow ends up traveling with the storm, while the buffalo meets it head-on.
The comparison has been told and retold over the years, including in a lesson shared by Wilma Mankiller, the first woman to serve as principal chief of the Cherokee Nation. And although the animal behavior is a little more complicated than the story suggests, the human lesson stayed with me.
Because isn’t that what we sometimes do?
We run from uncomfortable conversations. We put off difficult decisions. We look the other way when the truth is asking to be acknowledged. We tell ourselves that perhaps, given enough time, the problem will simply disappear.
But sometimes the storm follows us anyway.
And the longer we spend running, the longer we carry the worry, the uncertainty, and the weight of everything left unsaid.
I’ll admit something: I think I used to be a cow.
There have certainly been times in my life when I would have preferred to turn around and find a quieter road. Avoiding something painful felt a lot easier than facing it. I sometimes mistook avoiding the storm for finding peace.
These days, I try to be a buffalo.
And “try” is the important word.
Because being brave doesn’t mean we suddenly stop being afraid. It doesn’t mean every difficult conversation ends well, every relationship is repaired, or every problem has an answer. Some storms last far longer than we wish. Some involve people we love deeply. And some remind us that not everything is ours to fix.
Sometimes being a buffalo means speaking honestly. Sometimes it means holding a boundary with kindness. Sometimes it means asking for help, taking shelter, or accepting that all we can do today is take one small step forward.
Being a buffalo doesn’t mean the storm doesn’t hurt. It means we keep finding our courage, even when it does.
I don’t believe courage magically makes the rain stop. And healing certainly doesn’t happen on a schedule. But there is something freeing about no longer pretending the clouds aren’t there.
We may not get to choose the storms that come our way. We can, however, choose to meet them with honesty, grace, and as much courage as we can gather.
So the next time life’s clouds begin to gather, ask yourself a simple question: Am I running from what needs to be faced, or am I ready to take one deliberate step toward it?
I’m still learning. Still growing. Still finding my courage.
You don’t become a buffalo overnight. Sometimes it takes a few storms.
Design a Life You Love ~ Deliberately.
