Right at the Tip of My Fingers…
These last few times of frustration and tiredness I knew were trying to get me to let go, back off, and take a break so that the bigger picture could reveal itself to me, over what felt like a battle of the wills. As I would walk out to find the chores done haphazardly, hurriedly, and in no way the image I desire for my perspective new and present clients to find whenever they come down to the horse pens.
Though I have become highly appreciative at how easy and fast the re-doing or putting away the items left out has become. As I have consistently paid attention to my son’s complaints and noticed any time I spot some step that could be accomplished in a different fashion with better tools, different placement of hoses, racks, doors and even changing the type of latches to make things easier to do if one’s hands are full.
It’s just yesterday I so suspected the much needed rain is about to be here and from past experience know that dry waste material is easier to maneuver and move. So I decided with my current amount of horses to ride down to just 3, figured I could clean, fix, and re-do all the stalls with my extra time. Finding myself comfortably cleaning, enjoying the slow, rhythmic pace of shifting through the shavings, raking down the high spots as allowed myself to enjoy the quiet time of just me, connecting with the peace I find in doing these few simple cleaning chores.
Fascinated as I caught myself humming an old country tune by Bill Anderson about having love on the tip of his fingers, when suddenly I saw this movement out of the corner of my eye, and when I turned to figure it out. I was amazed at the picture that was laid out before me of all the pens now neat and in order. All of the empty stalls with clean buckets, freshly hung hay bags and nice clean ground awaiting the next horses and my own horse pens with fresh shavings raked out in a nice soft layer waiting for their occupants return. I saw the reason this lesson kept aggravating me almost too full frustration every day, even after all of the effort I have put into making it easier for anyone having these chores to do.
The whole message I had been trying to get myself to notice with all this discussion over cleanliness and perspective of clients first impressions. Wasn’t about him doing it right, it was me trying to get me to see how much I, like everybody else, need a fresh start, a clean slate, a new place to begin any and every day. Life is so much easier not carrying around all of the baggage from the day before, much less if we are lugging years of old laundry, images, memories and trash from our past.
A thousand different thoughts flashed through my mind of people I have known before that I have yet to allow them to have changed to become someone different, better, kinder, or realer than when we last met. There is so much stuff I have hung onto about me and how I might be perceived from someone else because of some incident 30 or 40 years ago. Thinking how much I have been taught to judge how I utilize each minute of the day by the value of my time if I do it wrong to some standard that I have to live up to.
So imagine the freedom I have now found in liberating myself and all others from my storehouse of back then to now. Like when I explained to my son how going to school is about learning how to think. Not memorizing facts and regurgitating them back. The letting him and myself off the hook for something not done right yesterday… it always has worked out before, I just couldn’t see it because of the blinders of being taught what to expect or look for so I will know I am doing things right… For Who?
Added to this was my morning discovery of the loss of my dictionary, which I queried my son about. Who came back with a quick retort of “Mom the dictionary??? You are right there” he said with a silly grin. I found the humor in now having no dictionary to look up every word to make sure I was using it the right way, spelling it in just the right fashion. No set of rules to bind me from being free to more easily express myself.
As I thought about how for years when I saw buzzards my first thought was death, something has died and there’s Universe’s sign. Compared to my realization of how free flying they are, as they soar in finding each wind current. Being lifted up to flow with the air, not because they have to fly to find food, having to scan each and every inch of earth. The flight is their thing to rise up, soar, majestically following the currents. They trust and know what they need is provided, they sense and feel when there is something that catches their glance, to zero in on, alight, take part in a meal. Life is that way when we allow it to guide us as we enjoy the living and breathing all the wonders it has for us fully in. As we explore how we view it, live it and become fully all of us living it. Alive, creating, experiencing, being!