Teeter, Tottering Finding "My" Balance

I have been on a journey this weekend, in love with writing as a way to communicate with myself. I have discovered the massive benefit of it, after I finish writing whatever has been flowing out of me on to the page in front of me. When I stop to read it back, I am usually overjoyed, amazed, and many times relieved in the answer that now is there for me to see, comprehend and realize. Sometimes in the words I use to express what I feel in my viewing of scenes around me which really stick in my mind. As long stories, wonderful expressive words, which hone in on the texture, sight, taste and even the sounds that I hear, intending as the thoughts and ideas come, how it will be on the page. To then discover when I actually get to the writing part, and entirely different language or combination of scenes begin to unfold. I have discovered this happens because there is always something going on in my mind that I am expecting to figure out, or resolved on some current situation in my life.
These discoveries are like my ability to create or edit my life, in a fashion that will bring me something better than before. I know that I am always creating, we all are. In some form or fashion, in the moment we decide we want something different. Like today for supper, I started a pot of beans, to go with a new chili recipe I had found. Knew I had a package of cornbread, so there would be something really warm and rib sticking for when my youngest came in from his first full day as a cement helper in the cold with his older brother. I get the onions, garlic, and pepper diced. Put the beans on for quick soak method. Then got the cornbread out, poured it in the bowl when a bell went off in my head to check for eggs. Nope, none and not wanting to drive in the damp, muddy, cold this late in the day, called my oldest and asked if on his return trip with his brother to bring me one. But, even though he said yes, I knew he was busy, he might forget. So I started to feel around in my mind, for a better easier combo. Hit on the idea of rice, which would then make it still combinable with the chili and beans in a bowl, nourshingly hot, without having to wait on making the cornbread till after they got back here.
My mind running back through today, all low key, thinking, thoughts, which were supplied from my huge outpouring yesterday, and the last few weeks of allowing myself to write, express myself, and my ideas of the connectedness of all of the events, items, critters and people in my life. The feedback I have received, a whole lot of great ones, and a couple of ones that caused me to re-consider “what was I thinking?” So yesterday and part of today, I went so far as to actually go on line and check on going the prescribed route. Called a few friends, discussed going back to college for a degree. Checked out all of the financial arrangements, and took the test available for” if I fit the ideal” for someone to go to school. All the while it rained yesterday afternoon. A long, really, really, slow, drizzly, bone chilling wet, almost misty rain. Which started at two and continued till six, causing my two lessons to call and cancel, they didn’t want to make anyone stand out in it.
So I did an internal check on my feelings about all of this writing. I love the way I feel when I get started, there seems to be almost an internal force that directs my fingers. Which as long as I just allow it, not really thinking, the words just flow on to the screen. Should I start thinking about what someone else might think, my fingers literally start tripping all over themselves, trying to stay out of the way of offending another’s taste. Kind of like the college discussions, yes they are a possibility, yes I can probably do the courses easier, and quicker than most. I do qualify for aid. I only probably need 30 hours to finish. Bringing to mind the previous experiences of many things that I did fantastically, self-taught at, was winning, till I tried to fit in. I took the lessons, clinics and classes prescribed. Always with this new, uncomfortable sense of struggle, trying so hard to get it right, not paying attention to the sign’s from the Universe: That the ones putting on the classes and clinics kept trying to buy my horses,(my mind’s thinking then was “If they are interested, I can fix what’s wrong with them”). Though now looking back, my horses had the perfect form, the perfect style, it was just my not having faith in me. Contributed by my starting to only run 2nd’s or 3rd’s, I was not keying in to the fact I was consistently in the money. Instead I had bought into the fact that first was everything.
I feel myself on this teeter totter, just like back then. I loved my horses, I turned down blank checks for them. I taught so many how to love their animals first and remember they were the ones who were doing the actual riding. Then the winning came. Seemed the only piece I missed back then and am currently working through. Is I forgot to teach them to love themselves, love their dreams, respect their rights to choose when and where to compete. I type those words, and I just sit and stare at the screen. I love teaching, I love listening to another’s heartfelt need to be heard.

The tiny 5 year old who took the lesson today in the damp and cold, was so excited when she got here and was still allowed to ride even though it had rained. Saddling up was some confusion, the last two Sundays were rained out. She was cold, but resilient, trying to remember, laughing, so caught up in getting out there to ride. Finally saddled, warmed the horse up, got on. The first 10 minutes pure fun, just till the coldness caught up with her, her cheeks turning a glistening pink, as she started yawning. Her gloves, not allowing her to grip the reins real tight, she asks to walk, my knowing her real tiredness with that cue, she wishes to do everything slowly, just to revel in it a little longer. Ten more minutes and the yawning is coming more often, her little eyes are beginning to droop. We make it back to the dismount area, she turns the mare on her forehand to the left, then her haunches to the left. One step back and then forehand right, then haunches right. Stops her, backs her up, to slide off, tired, fumbling with the halter, but gamely taking the little mare back to help unsaddle her and put her up. A pat on the nose, hands the halter to her dad, making sure mom is scheduling for the her next lesson. To climb into the car, snuggling down for the warm ride home, figuring out how much more blue stuff she will need for her own horse she’s been saving for.
I love writing, I know all of this will turn out, because like her, I get excited when I know I am about to write, the gears grinding, my mind opening, the thoughts just tumbling out, my fingers flying back and forth to the rhythm of my heartfelt thoughts, dreams, aspirations and yearnings. I too get to yawning when I’m toward the end with the answer more honed, more understood…more real. As I imagine, pretend, visualize the next logical step.

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About irfriske

Trainer, coach, teacher, parent, writer, exploring and sharing the connection through observation of what the Universe reflects back to us in our continuing education in living, loving, and enjoying life in interacting with horses, people, and animals.

Posted on December 12, 2011, in believing, Dreams, experience, Life, Love, visualization, wishes. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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