It feels like weeks have gone by since the last time I stopped to sit and write what was going on in my life and in my mind. All of the days since my last bus route, my son’s completion of the eighth grade and boot camp with my realization of how hard I had been struggling under the load of others suggestions, rules, ideas, scrutiny and anything other baggage I had been caring around, digging through and tending to because I had been so deeply convinced doing all of it would finally end in the payoff of fitting in, being okay, satisfying my place in the status quo.
When I saw the road stretched out behind me of not enoughness to then realize I have the choice of what I can do from now on. With this realization came this intense relief, this eruption of freedom from underneath the layers of “peanut gallery ite is” I had so bought into as real and the only way. I then found myself in almost any hour, for sometimes hours at a time, napping or sleeping deep in the sensation of relief.
At first when I caught myself asleep, again. I thought it was almost wrong. I would wake up, and still feel tired. To then find myself accomplishing some small thing, just one chore, one lesson, even a simple sandwich while I read a blog or page from my current book. To even then find myself dozing, sleepy, lack luster about anything, allowing millions of fragmented thoughts to just filter in, make note of, toss anything that had no feelings attached to them, play with the ones that stirred comfortable memories, and wonder at the lack of any ideas for tomorrow much less next week. To discover a blog from a writer describing a trip they had been on to get away from things for a while, and in returning home discovering a slight bug of feeling icky, tired, and the subsequent steps to taking care of themselves first and unpacking when they could. I became aware of the correlation to my trip of the last few years, all the digging, excavating, fixing, learning, changing and re-working of my entire way of life. Thinking how much I have put myself through with my usual bull dogged determination and how now my body was just recuperating from my massive undertaking of getting it done… one way or another.
Thankfully as I allowed the thoughts to wander in and out, took my time to allow my body to rest, do nothing, just soak. Sorting through past thoughts, much like cleaning house and finally getting to the junk draw where one puts things that might be of use some day, to discover when you actually clean it, about 80 to 90 percent of it was probably useful back then, but now it all is truly trash, so out it goes.
Finally finding me with the last 24 hours of three blissful sessions with horses and clients, suddenly feeling alive and revitalized. My newest lesson, at age 50 is learning how to ride and handle horses so that she can finally live her dream as a horse owner. She is having fun allowing this kid in her to come out and play. Experiencing the wonder of connection I share and teach as she shows up to learn how to let go, become a partner in dancing with the horse. This second lesson is much about her testing herself over what we went over the first lesson. The judgment of each little step causes her to struggle to find the “feel” of the horse. Being in this intense awareness of my personal discoveries of feeling every outside observer, I tease, play, invite and keep changing what she is asking of the horse, till I finally take the reins away, leading her through each pattern, step by step, getting her to breath, put her arms up, then out, then forward, till she relaxes enough to feel her own movement in and out of time with the horse. I play with getting her to breathe, close her eyes, just feel, think, experience, slowing the horse to just tiny, tiny steps, then stop, back up, forward, a little to the right then left. When I see the light go on, her whole body discovering how hard she had been trying to have fun, instead of just relaxing and enjoying herself.
As we get to the end of the lesson, she is now handling the reins as just guides to keep the horse between. No more death grips, tight holds, forcing things into place, now that she realizes the little mare matches everything she does, as a willing partner that moves so smoothly and easily if she is given the chance and the right cues. I thank the Universe for allowing me confirmation of my own intense struggle, acknowledging how much better a coach and trainer I am as I assist others to find their own connection to these wonderful creatures who are always mirroring back to me what I need to know and own as a wonderful creative creation of source. Experiencing life in the ways that fit perfectly for me.