The Good Things

What is a calling? Is it that gut feeling? A pull from within? Is it the circumstances you find yourself in?

I've had many gut feelings, ranging from "Oh No" to "My God, Yes". Some have been easy, obvious. Others... they've been battles, they are battles.

What is it when you feel pulled away from something, but not towards anything particularly obvious? What is it when you're pulled towards something you can't really get to?

I know what it should feel like, and it isn't like this.

...

As a child I spent my free time making art, of all kinds. I drew horses and house floor plans. I painted scenes and gourds. I made soap and small leather saddles. I took photos. I beaded and wove. I built dirt houses and sculpted clay. I cut and soldered glass. I drew clothes and sewed. It was SOOO obvious.

And then, two things happened.

1. My high school had a SHIT art program. Like basically non-existent. As a freshman, my teacher had us making styrofoam sculptures and cried during class about her son. Thus, I opted out of my school's art classes.

2. As I began my search for a college and a career, I was told a few lies. One, that it wouldn't be possible for me to get into an art program. Two, that there was no reasonable career in it. Three, that I had to choose something and stick with it, forever.

These things led me to hush ideas about a creative career, despite my interest in fashion design, graphic design, and architecture, and my first nugget of self-knowledge that I acquired: that I cannot work in a box sitting down pretending to enjoy it.

Thus began nearly a decade of confusion, anxiety, depression and massive self-doubt. And I am still embroiled in it.

...

Recently, my therapist asked me to narrow down a large list of priorities or values to the 10 or so I valued most.

I got to about 16 and couldn't eliminate any thereafter, but the main ones are as follows:
Adventure
Gratitude
Hope
Purpose
Compassion
Health
Achievement
Genuineness
Leisure
Humor
Spirituality
Autonomy
Creativity
Passion
Friendship
Simplicity

These are things I knew in my heart, some from a very young age. I've always been sort of a spiritual, head-in-the-clouds being, identifying very early in life with Neil Young's Dreamin Man. To feel truly whole, I need wide open spaces, the ability to get lost; animals, my dog and my horse, true companions; unfettered artistic creation of some kind; the ability to drift and move; warmth; discovery; quiet; minimal expectation, independence.

When I think of these things:
Exploring wide open spaces with my dog
Having that bond riding a fuzzy horse bareback
Canoeing across still, foggy waters
Finding creative flow and making a living from it
Feeling the eternal warmth of the sun on my face as I explore a new place
Being in tune with my body

I could cry with impatience, with the electricity of those things connecting my soul to my purpose, with gratitude.

Do you remember the butterflies in your stomach when you thought of or saw your middle school crush? It's that feeling, but for living in tune with your true self.

...

It is a painful thing to not be doing your calling.

Missing It

A funny thing happened. Shortly after I sold my pony, like days, I left Wisconsin to start college in Kentucky, and just like that I found myself living in a life that felt upside down. It honestly felt strange for me to walk. I felt more comfortable riding. There was a constant - riding - and then there was not. Nothing was familiar, nothing. Not even my sheets. I listened to Neil Young for hours because that was the only thing that was still the same.

Eventually I got into the hustle and bustle of college and in doing so, completely neglected to fully process the severing and dismemberment of my life, the removal of Encore from my person.

Since then, I've barely been able to discuss this without breaking down in tears. But, some things in my life have changed, there's been a lot of emotional inspection, some healing, some enlightenment. I'm presently in a very good situation riding this horse Opa as I plan to purchase a horse next year, but today, I realized something very important. I'm not just buying a horse like one might buy a new handbag or a shirt or a car. I knew it was more than that, that I was seeking that connection once more, but it took seeing a photo online that brought me back to what it really means.

An old photo surfaced on Facebook that showed several of my horse show friends aboard their ponies all lined up watching another friend ride hers in the grass. I'm not sure what was going on, but it is a funny photo. I'm not in the photo, it was a year maybe after I left. But when I look at the photo, I see relaxation, in everyone, and I remember it in my person.

Maybe this is what healing looks like. No longer fearing the pain of what happened, or fearing that it will happen again. Feeling more than just the surface emotions of sadness, anger, and longing. Feeling love, and comfort, and willingness.

What I want most is that casual familiarity of true bond, where you know your horse and your horse knows you, where riding feels as natural as walking, where there is true leisure in being together.

That feeling, nay, tangible connection, is worth fighting for. 

Saturday's Ride

This past Saturday, I went out to the barn to ride. When I got there, M and one of his horses were not in the barn area, but his truck was there and Opa's tack was out. So I saddled up, figuring M was lungeing Helio in the arena.

While I was doing this, a woman, S, started talking to my husband about our dog Cooper who had joined me on this nice day. She kept saying over and over what breed of dog she thought Cooper was and Joe was like, yeah we don't really know, we think this blah blah, and she was like NO HE'S DEFINITELY THIS.

Then on my way out the barn this woman says to me, "Oh how nice it is that M lets you ride Opa when he's not here."

I said, "He is here, his truck is here."

She goes, "oh, oh I guess so!"

I was like, "Yeah is he not around here?" By now I had noticed he was not in the arena and had begun to feel immense guilt for saddling up before I saw him.

She says she doesn't know. And then comes closer to me and goes "You know I really was worried when he was using the whip around Opa's legs the other day. Don't ever let him do that to you again. I thought you would come off. He really doesn't know what he's doing. I'm a [something something important person] in the local Pony Club and I would get my license revoked if I did that. It's soooo dangerous. And I won't even tell you what the other boarders have been saying about M. He doesn't know what he's doing."

I was like ok, yeah, I'll keep that in mind, thank you for saying something.

She very emphatically said all this and tried to repeat it. And then my guilt and shame about saddling up before talking to M took over and I took Opa back to his stall. I took all his tack off because I didn't want him to roll in because M had told me a story about him doing that. And then when I had done that, this woman comes up to me again, tries to retell me how dangerous it was when M was attempting to make Opa passage for me. Then she takes me over to his tack box and points out that the handle sticking out to the side was LIFE THREATENING to the horses and SO MANY boarders are concerned about it when M leaves it partly open. And then she goes on to say how terrible it is that these RACEHORSES are kept inside all the time and it's so dangerous and M doesn't know what he's doing.

I finally escape her and find M sitting in the shed barn watching Helio in the field. We go back to the main barn and I saddle up and M tells me let Opa run around for a little while and let him pop over some jumps, says he should be fine for our ride.

I'm now quite bothered by this woman's words and M's mention of Opa having a little pent up energy. I'm trying to steer my mind towards a more focused and pleasant outlook on our ride but it's hard.

Opa ended up being decently behaved for our ride, and I really shouldn't have expected much from him. My balance and leg position is horrible right now and sometimes I give him the wrong cues, so he might try to pick up the canter when I ask for a trot, and he was doing this a lot on Saturday. Or I was doing it a lot on Saturday. So it was a bit frustrating for me. On top of that, our dog Cooper decided he couldn't handle his first day off leash at the barn when I was riding. Joe had him on the leash and had his electric collar on, and M suggested he let Cooper off leash. Joe lets Cooper off and is apparently unprepared for Cooper to start running around and so he doesn't shock or buzz Cooper when Cooper runs at me and Opa. Then Cooper and M's dog Percy are playing in the arena and they go out of the arena and of course find a creek. Their absence allows me to do some cantering, still frustrating. And then the dogs are back. Somehow Cooper arrives with no collar whatsoever and is running in circles around me and Opa. Joe appears yelling at Cooper. M appears yelling at Percy. I stop Opa and start yelling at Cooper who is quite close to me now. Cooper takes off again and runs UNDER Opa! Opa remains quite chill and THANK GOD does not move one bit during all this commotion.

Eventually Cooper runs back to Joe and is put back on the leash. I resume my ride now fuming at Joe for taking the electric collar off Cooper.

Needless to say it was kind of a shit day. And I'm still bothered by it all. I'm bothered that my husband thought he could take Cooper's collar off and have him behave around another dog. I'm bothered that maybe M will be mad about this endangering situation. I'm bothered by S's words and the suggestion of gossip about M, and potentially about me. I'm bothered about my struggle to regain my riding skills. I'm bothered about what I didn't say to this woman.

I suspect this woman, S, made these comments because she feels insecure, perhaps put off because her daughter wasn't given the task of riding M's horses because she wanted to be paid and I wanted to do it for free. Another thing I find irritating is her exaggeration of the things she mentioned and the inappropriateness of it all.
1. I never felt like Opa was going to unseat me when M was trying to make him passage, I didn't feel unsafe. Was it the best idea? No, probably not. I probably won't allow it again, just like I turned down the double bridle (which I'm sure everyone is talking about).
2. This M who "doesn't know what he's doing" has had these horses for 10 years, he probably knows them pretty well. Opa is well-trained and M isn't a total dunce. In fact, he's really nice and seems like he was a pretty talented rider at some time.
3. Opa was never a racehorse, he sucked and only raced once or twice. Since then he's been a jumper and has been trained almost to Prix in dressage.
4. It's none of this damn woman's business whether M puts his horses out enough or not.
And 5. She shouldn't be addressing it with ME.

I felt like maybe I should get this off my chest. I talked to Joe about it and he agreed that S's intentions were not all good. And he learned that Cooper's e collar is water proof and to never take it off unless Cooper has demonstrated good behavior... But, here we are three days later and I still feel upset about it. Maybe I just need to get a good ride under my belt to feel better. And maybe I'll do a bad job on S's horses' stalls for the foreseeable future...

Riding

#Blessed

Jk, but really. I feel extremely fortunate to have found work and a horse to ride at a barn near us in Durham.

The horse I'm riding is named Opa. He's 15 years old, a blood red bay Thoroughbred, and just the sweetest little peach. I'm currently able to ride him Saturdays and Wednesdays thanks to my and the owner's present schedule, but I might be able to add in some evening rides, especially if the owner feels comfortable letting me ride Opa when he's not there.

Tomorrow will be my third ride on Opa, and I'm nervous (because it's been a while), and excited because he is such a fun guy to ride. He has a great big trot that practically launches me out of the saddle, so I really need to get my seat and legs working again. But his canter is a joy, a pleasure, a delight. It's like riding a rocking horse, so smooth and full. I could canter allllll day.

Now this is a new sort of thing for me. My pony had a very flat canter, it was hard to ride sometimes, especially when I was first learning. When I took dressage lessons post-college, I really struggled with Bo's canter. It was heavy and big, he liked to get on his forehand and pretend he couldn't be steered. I never really felt like I got it when I was riding him, just felt very off balance. But, Opa, wow, now that's something I'll definitely look for when I start looking for a horse of my own.

So our first ride was really great. I rode for a long time and tested out his buttons. He can do lateral movements, collect and extend, and passage. It was fun and I was sore for 4 days. Our second ride was a bit more challenging. I couldn't quite get my body to cooperate and Opa was evading the bit and not answering my cues. More forward. I keep telling myself that and was trying to do it, but just really struggling to get my body to cooperate. When we were cantering, I must have gotten my hips a little funny and my legs in the wrong spot because he gave me a couple flying lead changes! So, he can do tempis if I ever want to try that...

I really think he's going to be a great horse to re-learn my skills on. I feel safe riding him, confident in his responsiveness. He's going to prepare me very well, I think, to feel confident getting on the back of an OTTB I don't know well and then bringing one home to teach.

I'll try to get back here after each ride, and if my husband gets a break from schoolwork, drag him out to get a few pics. 

What's the difference?

Why are we so sad when a woman has a miscarriage? 4 weeks. 8 weeks. 12 weeks. 18 weeks. No matter the time, the unborn baby has died. It's heartbeat stopped. It's life, present and forthcoming, ended. And that is very sad.

Yet, people are out here screaming for abortions well past the medical "viability" point (24-ish weeks) where the babe can survive outside the uterus.

And what happens in an abortion that's so different from a miscarriage that makes it ok? That someone chose to end the life of the unborn baby? That they pulled the baby apart piece by piece? That this unborn baby wasn't wanted?

Let's be real and honest here - a heart stops beating when a baby is aborted and if that's not ending a life, then I don't know what is.

What a cruel world we live in. 

A Woven Table Runner

Last fall I decided to make my mom something really special for Christmas. She and my dad had just purchased a beautiful new oak Amish dining table, and she casually mentioned to me that she wanted a table runner for it.

I began looking around at table runners for sale and they were just sort of boring/dated/expensive/not the right style. What I wanted to get her didn't exist and I couldn't afford it if it did. I was looking for a beautifully woven table runner in neutral but kind of sandy/desert colors.

Then my little hare-brain thought "You can totally make this."

I replied, "Are you sure? Wait, yeah, totally. I made weavings as a child."

"I can totally get this done by Christmas."

Well, I didn't get it done by Christmas. I think all I had done was the construction of my long, rectangular loom that my husband nailed together. At this time we were also installing a slate floor in our kitchen and dining room. Lololol

So, I convinced my husband to build this wooden loom, which seemed simple and like 100% was not. Eventually I rounded up some string and a few pretty, interesting yarns, as well a bundle of roving. The other item I wanted to incorporate were pheasant feathers. My dad, and sometimes my mom, are avid pheasant hunters. Since this was mostly a surprise for my mom, I had to bring my dad in on it and secure some pheasant feathers. I told them it was for some project I was working on. My mom had no clue. It helps I suppose that they lived 7 hrs away.

Now we are well past Christmas. We finished the dining room floor, I finished my bikini collection for Taylor Monroe Boutique, and one random day when I had little to do, I started winding my warp and then weaving. I went with what felt right, and it turned out much better than I expected.

It took me a couple months to finish it, not weaving every day, but doing large portions at a time. What really spurred me to finish, though, was my parent's impending visit around Mother's Day. I finished it while they were there and was able to present it to them that day. Haha. So it was a combined Christmas and Mother's Day gift, haha.

Anyway, here it is in all it's glory. Ps. I used a stylus to carry my yarn though the weave...

Making a Change

This is not a new concept at all, but I'd like to share a little inspiration or advice for making that Big Change in your life. A Big Change could be meeting new people, picking up a hobby, changing jobs, changing careers, saving for something you want, anything really. You want something to be different, but you don't always know where to start.

It's a tough place to be. I've been there. I am there. We can always be there.

So, what does it look like to make the Big Change in your life? Let's say the change is really, really big, like going to graduate school. You can't just go to graduate school tomorrow can you? No, you have to get admitted, but before that you have to apply, and before that you have to find schools to apply to, and before that you have to take a standardized test, and before that you have to study. So really, to get into grad school, you must now do the next thing you can do, which is purchase study materials. That's all, that's all you have to. When you do that, you can schedule your test. Then you study. And you just do the next thing you can do with your current level of preparation.

Let's say the change is smaller and you want to meet new people. You think to yourself, how can I possibly meet new people? I work with a small group of people, my college friends are far away, I am busy. Well, let me ask you then, is there anything in your life that you do regularly that you wouldn't actually consider a priority? Like watching TV. Or taking naps, or scrolling through social media, or taking on projects you dislike... Where is your free time, and where could it be if you prioritized your actions? Ok, so you've identified some free time (and it doesn't have to be a lot), what's that one hobby or activity you're always thinking about that you wish you did more of? Right, I knew you had one, why aren't you doing it? Stop watching TV (you won't miss it, really), now go sign up for that class (Google is an amazing tool, USE IT). So now, you've just found a group of people with whom you share an interest, talk to them about that interest, make a friend!

So, the gist of this is, since you obviously can't just do that Big Change tomorrow, you must simply take the next step in the process of that change, however small. This of course requires some thought, careful consideration, an outline maybe, and talking to your spouse, depending on how big your Big Change is. 

A personal example:

I want to buy a horse and become my horsegirl self again. Well, it's very easy to say "we don't have enough money," "what if we move," "where will it live," "someday..." BUT, let's put pen to paper and write it out, what would the steps actually be to purchase a horse?

Well,

1. I need to make sure I have enough money saved up and incoming to pay for and support the horse.

2. I need to find a place for it to live.

3. I need a vet and a farrier and someone to care for it when I'm not there.

4. I need the accoutrements to care for and enjoy the horse.

5. I need transport for the horse to bring it to it's new home.

6. I need to find the horse. 

So, I can't do all of these at once, each of these has their own separate list of to-dos, so I start with number one and start looking for extra income. Then I move on to number two and start looking at barns. (Here conveniently, I've found part time work at the barn I hope to board at). Then I move on to three and so on. So, I now have a plan in place that I am actively working on and that will keep me busy up until the point I bring the horse home, then I can start being that horsegirl again.

This strategy works for all things. Just try it on something small. It's especially helpful if you do actually write down all your steps. Then, just do that first small thing!

Dreams and Plans

It's the possibility of having a dream come true that makes life interesting.
The Alchemist by Paulo Coehlo

What is it when you realize you may have all but given up a dream?

Regretful? Disappointing? Offensive? Hurtful? Shameful? Crushing?

10 years. A decade. 1/10 of a century.

By the end of Summer 2017, it will have been 10 years since I gave up my horse and put my dream of owning a horse again on hold.

10 years since I said goodbye to the sweetest gelding I've known.

10 years since I packed him off to a family who promised to love him forever, and then somewhere in there, decided they didn't love him and sold him off to someone else.

10 years since I said everything I do in life going forward leads to horses.

10 years since I really thought I could make this dream come true on my own without a shred of confidence in what I wanted to do.

What happened?

I moved 400 miles away to pursue my "dream" of going to college.

Against my instincts, I entered into and completed a program that didn't resonate with me, fleshed out a nice case of anxiety and depression. Eventually I finagled my way into a career I thought might work better.

It didn't. I spent 2+ years trying to convince myself I could do marketing and pay for my loans and ultimately fell into depression again.

I got married, and committed my life to Joe, a good choice, but now we must split our dreams and choose some over others.

I quit working a job I hated, hooray, but then proceeded to flounder for another 2+ years, before negotiating part time work that I found fulfilling, but not very profitable.

I devoted countless hours and money that Joe earned to fixing a house that we didn't love and that didn't love us back.

But we've moved again to fulfill one of Joe's dreams, hooray.

And now, here I am, set up for another 2+ years of kind of not really doing anything that makes my heart sing, and hoping that we have enough money during this time to pay our costly rent.

What can I say for myself? I am egregiously disappointed in myself that I haven't been able to suck it up, and happily enough, to make this dream happen for myself.

In that time, I have taken a couple years of lessons to maintain my skill, and it's nice, but it feels like scratching all around the itch, not the itch itself. And I can't take it anymore. I will be purchasing a horse before my ten year hiatus is up. One way or another, this dream will come to fruition before I hit 30.

I guess what I need to do is determine how much money I need, how much my husband is willing to part with during a year, and what it actually is that makes me excited to work day to day. I'm wasting my life by not doing any of the things that truly resonate with me and make me feel like Me.

The Dirt in the Garden

I like seeing the dirt in the garden.
It reminds me how the zucchini blossoms grow,
from the flat little seeds I wedged into the soft, warm dirt,
little green swirls emerged, twirling until they poked their ends
above the surface, seeking that warm light.
Then swirls thickened, grew thorns, unfurled giant wedge-shaped leaves.
Then the tiniest bump peeked out from a stalk, and I swear,
the next day it was the size of my thumb, green with yellow spreading from the end
the way water soaks into fabric.
And the next day, it opens, fuzzy center with curly petals.
We know the rest, the blossom grows outward, the zucchini pushing
it away from the earth, fattening, fattening, fattening.
The blossom tumbles, wilted and browning, moldering into the dirt,
becoming the plant's fertilizer.

So isn't that just like life?
I tend the dirt, it grows a plant,
beautiful and lovely, I harvest the fruit,
the blossoms fall, wilting, moldering,
and it replenishes the dirt, fuels the passion,
I grow,
without the dirt I cannot.
I grow.