Baling

Sometimes it is so peaceful to have a no-brain job for awhile. Baling hay this weekend at Centennial Farm. I said, "Les, I havent driven a tractor in 20 years." "Oh, you'll be fine, just keep going straight." Ok! Two days of turning, baling and loading. Wow, did Aries get a workout. She wanted to follow me every step of the way, round and round and round. 

Dad

My father and I had a pretty rocky relationship while I grew up. I realize as an adult how much alcohol and economics played in that situation. Being young, five kids, broke and raised in a harsh household did not add to his parenting skills. I know he did his personal best. He loved painting, reading, telling stories, horses, camp fires and nature. I am my father's daughter.

 About 25 years ago he became very ill. It turned his life upside down. It scared him; it scared us. No more drinking, lots of exercise and healthy food. He became a new man. The father I had always known that was in there somewhere was released. After 30 years, he was calling me on the phone to talk about oil paint colors, to discuss the attributes of a horse I was considering purchasing, talk about the kids and work. He'd drive the three hours to visit my two baby girls. Dad even changed a diaper. That Christmas, he bought presents and wrapped them for us for the first time in our lives. In January, six of us went to Sturbridge Village for a Yankee Winter Weekend for his 56th birthday. I had never had such a wonderful time with him. I was 32 and when he hugged me and said he loved me at the end of that trip it was the first time I had heard that. He said, "Let's do a trip every winter from now on." 

 The next weekend, I was awakened by a phone call from my parent's neighbor saying that my dad had died in his sleep. It could not be. I was in shock. There must be a mistake. He was well and happy and healthy. Please, God, don't take him. I have waited all my life for him to be a real father to me. My girls would never get to learn all the wonderful things he could teach them and what a great man he was. 

 These thoughts of my father came to me as I drove down Flathead Lake today. I miss him. It has been almost 24 years and I still want to discuss things with him. I want to talk about my successes and my failures. Realistically, he'd probably give me advice that makes me feel like a child but I would understand. A man's opinion can be foreign and yet unique. I appreciate the diverse perspective. My imagination creates a father that I have not had all these years reassuring me and giving me confidence; being a strong male that makes me feel safe and loved. He would tell me to buck up and not put up with turkeys. 

 When I admitted to myself today how I still wish he was here, I could see where my emotions get triggered in other areas. When I really care about a man and then he vanishes out of the relationship, with no reason, no explanation, no call - I feel the loss of losing him very deeply. I cannot control his disappearance. I am not able to bring him back. It is the feelings I had way back then. It is the sudden silence that is what has unsettled me and now I see where that connects back. This has been my experience more than once in the past 15 years. Sometimes it was after years, sometimes after weeks. If my dad were here, I would ask him why. If he were here to ask, I wouldn't have experienced the pain of his unexpected death and the emotions would not have gotten stuck. Maybe, just maybe, I would have a different point of view. Now that I have raised these emotions to the surface for healing, I let them go. I have found the sliver and plucked it out. Goodnight, dad, and thank you.

Dad and my oldest 

The Fall

Some experiences in our life are just too painful to talk about until enough time has passed and the healing has begun. My divorce and a traumatic horse accident changed my life profoundly. These events effected me physically, emotionally and spiritually.

Three years ago, I stepped up onto a horse I did not know. She had been recommended by a friend. Within seconds of getting on board, the mare bucked and bolted and I was thrown to the ground. As I laid in the dirt, in excruciating pain, I knew something was seriously wrong. An ambulance ride later, after a myriad of tests, I was to learn I had broken my sacrum. The doctors agreed, it would be a long road but I should recuperate completely. I went through denial, anger, depression, frustration and helplessness. I could not run away or escape this fate. I had to endure. Wheelchairs, walkers, canes and eventually yoga therapy. Once I could drive, it was daily trips to work with a therapist. A broken back is every horse person's worst nightmare. How did this happen? Would I ever ride a horse again? Would I want to?

I had just purchased Lakota ten days earlier. I was not on her the day of the accident. When I was strong enough to visit her, a friend brought me to the farm. My walker creaked and groaned under the burden as I could not put any weight on my legs.My arms took the full force of my body. Lakota was hesitant until I began giving her treats from the little cloth basket. I was terrified of her, so afraid she might accidentally knock me over. She seemed disproportionally huge. I felt like Humpty Dumpty, fragile as an egg. I was not ready to give her up but it took months before I could muster the fortitude to even brush her.

My agony was the loneliness, the feeling of separation, isolation and vulnerability. I had thought of myself as courageous, strong and invincible and here I was broken and beaten. I could not leave my front porch for weeks. My cabin is not handicapped accessible. I had been carried in and would have to be carried out. It was summer in Montana and everyone was hiking, boating and playing. Everyone but me. Even my dog, Aries, was being cared for by a neighbor because I could not carry her dog food or let her in and out. I questioned all my beliefs about who I was and my place in the Universe. Why had I been abandoned? What had I done to deserve this? Why was all of my support 2,500 miles away? How could I have made such a mistake? What was my future going to be?

Even though my divorce had been ten years earlier, familiar emotions flooded in. The loss of identity, the crisis in faith, the unending ache, the turning around to see nothing had remained the same. Where was I going? Who was I now?

In spite of set backs, I have remained hopeful of once again finding a partner to share my journey and to continue enjoying horses. I could say that men and horses are too dangerous and the chance of getting hurt just too high. But, what is life without love? I am learning how to take more calculated risks. The first mistake was to trust my seat to a horse that I did not know. I have done the same with men. I had to learn the hard way. It is easy to find oneself in a wreck, when you haven't taken your time. There is no rushing in relationships or horses.

To mitigate my risk, a horse must: be calm, listen, be intelligent, be kind, willing to learn, actively engaged, have self control and gives his best effort.

I still dream of riding side by side, hand in hand with my partner over an open meadow, horses walking gently. If he is not a horse person, we will find another way to enjoy our time together. That is not carved in stone.

I realize that I was not forsaken, that I am blessed to be walking soundly. The break in my bone was millimeters from my spinal column. I am so very lucky. My world shifted after my divorce certainly but it also opened and expanded. "Pain is the resistance to what is". Once I could accept, I could move forward.

Divorce did not make me afraid to love again. I am living in faith and trust. I am more aware. My fall did not make me give up horses; it made me cautious. I do not know how long Lakota and I will be together. She has helped me regain my confidence and is willing to put up with my amateur attempts at training. Each day I become more knowledgeable about my Self. I will not pretend to know what is right for anyone else. We all have our own path to follow. I can only share my story and continue my daily practice of unfolding.

Thorny

There is a large shrub that has been enclosing on my driveway for the past few years. Each month the branches get closer and closer to scratching my car. I wasn't sure what it actually was but it has beautiful, fragrant blossoms in the early summer. The flowers look like wisteria but are attached to gnarly trunks instead of a vine. It was too lovely to destroy but something had to be done to control it. I learned it was a Robe Locust. This is not like the locust we grew on the east coast. This marauding shrub was actually an ornamental tree that had suckered into an invading nuisance

Today, I decided to tackle it. I cut the young sprouts, then the larger ones at the base. I reached in to clear the branches to get a better view and "ouch!" they had spines on them. At each leaf node there was a pair of barbs. As I sucked the blood that trickled from my thumb, I reassessed the situation. I could go back to the garage and get a pair of leather gloves or I could just be more careful. The next reach was much more gentle and deliberate. I dragged a huge pile of branches across the road without incident by paying more attention, watching to see where the thorns were and getting to know the structure of this plant.

The clearing away of all the extraneous growth, allowed the small trees to once again line my roadway. It made the driveway safer. The tree will be healthier by reducing competition for nutrients and water. It was good to have it done.

There are times when it would be beneficial to a relationship to broach a prickly topic. It is often easier to make a path around it, then to venture in and take a chance of getting stabbed. Avoidance may appear the simplest solution for awhile but sooner or later you are going to have to deal with it. The issue is going to keep growing until it blocks your road to a deeper sense of intimacy.

I will take the lesson of the little locust tree. Keep the intention of achieving a more loving union while carefully delving in. Avoid the barbs when possible and keep envisioning the result. If the intention is to just go in and slash branches, back away and approach another day.

I kept picturing the lovely tree I was uncovering. I had to remove dead wood and suckers to restore it. It took effort but now it will be pleasing to see each time I drive up to the cabin. It will grow more vigorously with this assistance. We are both happy. Ignoring the tree would not have solved the problem. It continued to spread each passing day. It will be easier to control and maintain. I will be more vigilant. Now that I know more about the tree's habit, I will work with it and not against it. I will keep it healthy and strong and it will provide me with beauty and sweet aroma.

Freedom

Today is the 4th of July and the word that comes to mind is Freedom. I am feeling totally blessed and grateful for living in the United States. If I were living in many other countries, I would not have the time or the desire to contemplate spiritual teachings and my own inner workings. Anyone that has studied education is familiar with Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. Self actualization can only be achieved when basic needs such as food, shelter and safety have been attained. I give thanks to all of the people that have sacrificed before me so that I have the privilege of sitting under this clear blue sky and typing to my heart's content.

I consider what Freedom means to me personally. My cabin symbolizes Freedom. My life is all about Freedom. I laugh when I think of something my girlfriend from San Antonio, Big Tex, said. She said, "I want to make a t-shirt that says - You are not the Boss of me! It reminds me of you, when we were living in Ithaca." It makes me laugh but it is a little sad, too. I was stretching my wings, rebelling against any limits and constructs surrounding me. There was collateral damage, I admit. I was breaking through the paradigm of feeling controlled by a man. The pendulum had swung way out.

I am not sure if men would understand what it is like to know that your shelter and your food is ultimately controlled by another. I had chosen to stay home with my daughters and work on their school schedule. I have never regretted that decision. I lived in the illusion that I did not have an equal say in marital decisions. It's not conscious, but  you know you are not able to support yourself with that kind of income. I see the error in that thinking now, but that is where I was. I felt unheard.  A book I read called it "de-selfing" when you start to lose yourself for the relationship. Resentment builds. It is cultural conditioning for women to acquiesce. Peace at all costs. I did not have the communication skills to stand up for my Self. When I went back to college in my 40's, I found myself in the same situation. Cripes. I fell into allowing a man to control my shelter and job, again. Out of the pan and into the fire. The proverbial spiritual 2 x 4.

Years later, I am in this little cabin on the side of a mountain in Montana. I have created a sacred space, a refuge for healing, that is true. This place has served its purpose. I have had total Freedom here. I sit on the porch with my coffee and write. I go visit my horse, without someone being envious of the time I spend with her. My work is rewarding and can be tiring. I feel comfortable laying on the settee for a half hour when I return. My gym schedule is erratic but important to me. I come and go as I please. Yet, there is something or someone missing.

I acknowledge my longing for relationship and my desire for Freedom. I asked a male  friend of mine not long ago, "What would you make me give up to be in a relationship with you?" I will ask that of any man I am considering. I understand the balance of "I" and "we". A relationship needs a healthy portion of both. 

I will leave my cabin willingly to partner with a man when the time comes. I have learned enough about me to know that I am not going to be dragged out of here with my toothbrush to be stripped of my Freedom. Sharing a roof does not mean giving up who you are or your values. I will do my best to honor and respect my partner's Freedom, also. There is a delicate balance between Freedom and commitment. I do not pretend to have that figured out yet. I believe that will be a process that will unfold. I'm aware that I could use this cabin as an invisible shield to hide behind. That is not my intention. I had to prove something to myself and I have completed that. It's time to write a new chapter. 

Summer Reading has Arrived!

Mystical kingdoms, a forgotten lighthouse, a sojourn into space, a mysterious drowning, talking wolves - sounds like summer reading to me!! Ok, admittedly, one book on woman's anger. For me, all this escapism is well overdue :)

Being the Gift

Every Sunday I get up early, make the coffee and take it with me while I venture outdoors. If it is raining, it is onto the porch I go; if it is sunny, it is out to the flowers. Today was no exception. The roses are here so briefly, so I make the most to revel in their scent while I can. I stooped down to inhale the sweet aroma when something moved in front of my eyes. It was an incredibly beautiful moth resting on one of the blossoms. Last week it was a bee nestled in a bed of pollen, today it was a sleeping moth. He is the size of my hand and marked with the shades of the forest. What is he doing here? He is alive and well, simply taking a respite in the shady coolness.

My roses bring me such delight yet I realize suddenly how many others are finding pleasure in them also. The hummingbirds have taken up residency in the yellow climber rose beside the porch. People up the road are happy to see the blooms as they come home from work. A neighbor stopped last night to compliment them. The bumblebees extract their nectar during the day, while the moths feed from them at night.

I wonder if we can imagine how many times we are giving to others without consciously realizing it? We don't see the gift we are being in the world simply by being ourselves. We are impacting people positively by our intention, simply by being who we are. I am just being me and pleasing me by planting and tending my garden of flowers. I can look at it as a selfish activity. I am the only one here. Today I am reminded that I am having an effect on all around me.

I am creating a sacred space. My cabin is a refuge to all that enter her doors. I am surrounded by natural beauty and peacefulness. My home is quiet and serene. I know that my energy expands beyond these walls. I can say that I am just doing my job when I offer assistance or I can acknowledge that I am being a benefit to my community. My intention is to be a loving, spiritual being in my home and everywhere. I am more successful being that at times than others.

The lady bluebird has begun gathering dried grass from the gravel and bringing it into her house. This can only mean that she has decided to bring forth another clutch this year. She is remodeling and making it fresh. The bluebirds affirm that I have provided a safe haven for them to raise their young.

I ask you to look around you and take stock of how you are impacting life. We don't always pat ourselves on the back for the difference we are making just by being who we are. We are good parents, kind children, nurturing the environment, caring for our pets. Allow yourself to receive the gratitude from the Universe for all your contributions. Allow yourself to see the amazing difference you are making everyday. Your smile or the touch of your hand may be the answer to someone's prayer. Recognize the gift that you are.