Category Archives: wishes

Smoke And Mirrors…

candleThe lessons in this last year have been amazing! With the new awareness’s that each day brings to me, as I open up to the things, remembrances from my past awaken in me to see, choose, change, and play with until I find the gift that is always there. Brought to the present in my day to day events which cause the miracle of changes in both Scoozi and myself. This month marks almost a year since my abrupt departure on my twenty second ride on her.

Caused my willingness to stop doing anything until I totally understood myself, my dreams, my intentions, my reasons and my true feelings into “Why” did I get to this point I such an explosive fashion? Where and was I intending to go on the same way? And how much of any of this came from being true to myself, or from pleasing others, unseen except in mind… the mindless crowd?

This morning’s sudden desire to share, came after I was reconstructing a new candle holder and playing with the aspect of making this new container, practical, able to hold the candle upright and safe from the cats being able to accomplish dislodging it from my desk to another shattered mishap on the floor.

As I was melting another candle to fill in the smaller hole on the bottom. The impulse to add a little color and extra fill for the hole, sent me for the smooth, colorful, clear, flat stones the cats had discovered to utilize for their nightly game of keep-away from one another.

After I filled the bottom, I thought it would be a nice touch to have a row of them in the space around the edge of the glass. Though this proved a interesting trying to be careful, executed experience of sliding the flat on one side of the stones down the sides of the vase into place with the big candle already adhered to the wax below.

In the experimenting with how to maneuver each stone in place, I kept catching small bits of the very soft natural wax, to smear on the sides of the glass… and a memory found me from a few years back when I took one of my students to her first ever exhibition.

This student (about 21) was learning to be astride a horse, in public, in an event that eventually utilizes speed, learning to control her fears of being run away with, being bucked off, being humiliated and a host of other mind terrors which she had previously encountered and come to me to work through. For her to actually accomplish 5 trips in and safely out of the arena with 2 times at a walk, 2 at a trot, and the last time comfortably at a lope… so excited and proud of herself.

To then as she is sitting there beaming, have an older lady come up and critique her on the clothes she was wearing and how from “up in the announcer’s stand” the male announcer could see down her shirt… humiliation at its best.

Her parents thankfully were in hearing range of the entire incident and attempted to make light of it. And even with the conversation about how what others said, especially since none of those comments had anything to do with all of the fears she had worked her way through, how much she had managed to accomplish… none of the good mattered. She decided to quit trying to compete, to be open, to breathe in her new found success.

My awareness of the looks of my new candle holder took on an entirely new perspective… It’s my first time playing with wax. It’s in my house for me. If I never get back to cleaning up all the smears… me and the candle don’t care because the candle still burns brightly and smells amazing.

Looks don’t mean anything. I understand that feelings, inside… are EVERYTHING. Managing our own feelings…no matter what the outside world says or does is the most important thing.

I am so appreciative of this last year and what I have learned… I don’t need to defend or explain anything I’m doing, have done or will do. Because I now choose to live every moment in what feels and works best for me. I am learning to coach, train and teach from the new standpoint of “It is what it is” What others think or say “DOES NOT MATTER” The feelings inside are everything. People are everywhere… EXCEPT INSIDE OF MY HEAD. It is ME and Only Me Who gets to choose HOW I REACT!

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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