A moment of silence. A wordless Wednesday, if you will.
A moment to comfort and inspire perhaps. Or relax.
A moment to be present. Slow down.
To seek serenity.
Be with the elements.
You know, feel Thanksgiving.
Oh, wait. This was supposed to be wordless.
Oh well.
Walk in love, dear readers. Share and spread the peace, love, and joy today and always.
I feel the need to tell y’all something.
Celebrate your individuality. Not only today, but every day. There must be something in the water…or something. You know, be you. Love what you love. Not to worry about what other people think because it has no bearing on you. No hold. What other people think has more to do about them than about you.
So, in that spirit.
I am the kind of gal that gets surprised by the new noises that can be heard on the north wind after the first cold front of the year. That happened this morning.
I am a complete album kind of gal. To me, whole albums are a complete work and I have more complete albums than single songs in my music library. How many times can I say complete? This also means I am a music buyer and not a streamer.
I am a go to the grocery store hungry and buy all the things I do not need kind of gal. This turns into me being surprised at the check out every time.
I am the kind of gal that likes to drive on the line rather than between them. There may be some kind of deeper life metaphor in there. Apples don’t fall far.
I am a turn the gospel music on in traffic so I do not get Traffic Tourette’s and yell at people kind of gal. I really helps.
I am an early to bed, early to rise kind of gal with a full night’s rest in between. You know how I am about my sunrises and sunsets. Besides, they just said on the news that sleep deprivation leads to Alzheimer’s. Must be true, right?
I am a sit around the fire pit kind of gal and always have been. I can not wait for the first fire of the year.
I am the kind of gal that gets only mildly surprised and greatly amused when I discover I am many times over a product of where I come from. Fascinating, right?
I am a cross wall gal. As in I have a wall of crosses in my house. So does my oldest sister, A.
I am a close the cabinets and drawers all the way kind of gal.
I am the kind of gal that wears more than once necklace at a time because I can not just pick one.
I am a set the table for dinner gal. I actually keep my dining room table set, complete with cloth napkins and napkin rings all times, but I eat on my couch 99% of the time. I just have a thing for table settings. And lots and lots of candles.
I am a color gal. Lots of color. My closet looks like a rainbow. ‘Winter’ colors are not really a thing for me.
I am a flavored coffee gal. Get of your high horse, coffee people. Pecan coffee is good, I do not care what you say.
I am the type of gal that smiles when I come home and there are dog toys scattered all over the house behind my dog greeting me at the door with her wagging tail.
I am a planning and dreaming gal. I am not spontaneous as a general rule, not that I can not be, I just prefer to plan…the whole day. Every day. But I am also capable of adjusting. I also day dream a lot. Little dreams and big dreams. Close ones and far off ones.
I am an ask all the questions kind of gal. I love my details. I was told once that I should be a lawyer because I like details. I found this more than mildly amusing.
I am a gal that prefers animals to most people. Although, I think you already know that.
I am a gal that does not mind getting dirty and using her hands.
I am an independent gal. A do not tell me what to do kind of gal. I have been told that this intimidates people. What people? Who are these people? I also find this amusing. I do not think of myself as intimidating. Maybe I am. Strong, sure, but like I said, I am a product of where I come from. Most of the people in my life are this way, related or not.
I am a helping gal. I like to help people. To be of service.
I am a gal that has an easy to read face. There is no hiding my thoughts if you can see my face. I am no poker player, that is for sure. I also have a tendency to roll my eyes. Very loudly. And normally I do not even know I do it. I had a teacher in high school call me out for this one time. It made me laugh.
I am a homebody type gal and I need my alone time sometimes.
I am a gal that knows she is a child of God and was made this way for a reason. Even if it is hard sometimes.
What kind of person are you? Let us celebrate it! Thank you for being you and being here!
Walk in love, dear readers!
Here is to my Mamma.
Where would we be without her or both of my parents? I know I certainly do not know where or what I would be.
I know it is not quite yet Mother’s Day, but I celebrate my mom every day.
I celebrate her for who and what she is. I celebrate her for putting up with me. I celebrate her for her selflessness and doing everything for me. I celebrate her for allowing me to be who I am and doing her best to embrace it. I celebrate her for being a part of me.
She is the best mom in the world. That is what I tell people when they ask about her.
She made my school lunch every day and would draw horses on the brown paper bag. She would have my dad drive her in the golf cart, wrapped in a sleeping bag, on cold winter mornings to look for me if I rode longer than normal, just to make sure I was OK. She figured out how we could spend the most amount of time at the farm during the summers so I could ride and be where I loved. On those summer days, we would eat dinner early so we could go for drives on the back roads together. With the windows down, we soaked in the country air and scenery. We were waiting for the heat to lift so I could go for a sunset ride on my palomino mare, Fresca. She allowed me to have riding lessons every day when we were in Mexico so I could learn and get better. Just for the love of it.
I could go on and on.
When I was younger, for Mother’s Day I would braid my mare’s mane with ribbons and flowers to spell out mom on Mother’s Day. I sat on my mare in the barn and colored cards for her before she would wake up, misspellings and all. I would pick wildflowers from the horse pasture and try make them last. They never did.
Nowadays I play her music instead of cards because it speaks to us both, more than any card could. I will bake a dessert I think she will like for dinner because I love to do that for people and she has discerning taste. And every time I swing my leg over my pony, I thank the good Lord above for not only the gift that is them, but the gift that is my mother. For giving me that part of her and for her allowing that to grow within me. Well, not that she really had much choice. It is in our blood.
I would say my dad, sisters, and I would have the family over and plan dinner, but we did that once. It was Dad’s idea. It did not work out so well. Mom is the best at that. This year we will go to Aunt M’s house for Mother’s Day dinner with everyone. That is what makes her happy.
We will be celebrating many mothers this coming Sunday. Grandmothers. Mothers. Aunts. Cousins. Sisters.
I hope I am half the mother she is and they are one day.
What is your favorite memory of the mother in your life?
Walk in love, dear readers!
The Monday feels were strong yesterday. It was like having to come back from long vacation and not just a weekend. So strong was that Monday feeling in fact, that it is encroaching on my Tuesday.
The Monday fade. I just made that up. Hopefully it will FADE AWAY throughout the day and I can get on with it.
I am sitting here on my couch, sipping my own fancy, pantsy white chocolate peppermint coffee concoction (if you’re well behaved, I will tell you about it later), wishing I was a kid in school again with a winter break. Time to whatever I want.
If I was back in school, then I would have to go through finals and all of that growing up strife again…woof! No thanks!
Why is it that sometimes going to work and doing all the other ‘adulting’ (it is a very apt word, no matter how silly it sounds) things we have to do feel so hard to do? I believe everyone goes through this. Don’t you? Yesterday and today have been that way for me. Hard to wake up. Sitting on the couch with my coffee (in a Christmas mug with a penguin wearing a tie because I am clearly not an adult) until the very last possible minute which results in me rushing to get dressed and out the door so I am not late. Not to mention not even making my bed because clearly that terribly simple task itself is even too difficult for the toddler inside me. I won’t mention my tantrum protest of kicking and thrashing at my alarm’s buzzing. No, I won’t mention that. I must do that too much because Darcy did not appear to be fazed by my strange behavior.
And speaking of alarm. I have some lovely songs set as my alarm! Yes, songs, because I have more than one alarm set. Do not judge me!
No need to have a reaction of kicking and thrashing!
If I was waking up to horses, I would barely even need one alarm.
Anyway.
I failed. I failed at getting pictures of the Christmas party. Sigh. Oh well. This is really the only one besides some very sub-standard cupcake photos.
Quite cozy and festive, right? My sister knows how to throw a party!
Remember that Peppermint Dream Cake I made for one of my family’s Christmas celebrations last year? This one?
Well, I made Peppermint Dream Cupcakes for the party. I took some not so great photos of them…
They tasted better than the photos look!
I had some extra Fluffy White Chocolate Frosting…so I uh, put it in my coffee. Before you freak out, is just peppermint white chocolate ganash, folded into whipped cream. Quite good.
I must be off now. You know, that whole adult thing called work. Make money, pay the bills, make a difference, blah, blah, blah.
Let us get this Tuesday going.
Walk in love, dear readers.
A year later and I still have no words to describe it. Not the feelings I have. Certainly not the feelings of my family.
Even now as I type these words, it feels so utterly strange. Uncharted territory, even as the first year is up. Different from a year ago, and yet, the same. I am not sure if anyone else in this situation has felt this way. I suppose each is different.
Yesterday I was aimlessly scrolling through Facebook and I wondered to myself, why am I doing this? Something so simple and mindless and downright meaningless? I had that EXACT same thought and feeling a year ago today after I heard the news.
Honestly, I did not want to write this post today and I have been dreading it. I do not want to relive it and do not want certain readers to relive it. It is too close. I did not want to offend or hurt anyone. To dishonor him.
Then it occurred to me that I, or we, do not need a blog post to relive it. It happens all the time. Thankfully, a little less as time goes on. Time heals, little by little. It becomes apparent when you look back. That I know for sure.
I need to write this post. For me. For my family. And for you. For anyone that has ever lost anyone. For him. To celebrate him and his life and his loved ones. The survivors because that is what we are. My Uncle was a beautiful and faithful man. Which makes it even harder at times. I suspect we will never know the answer to why in this earthly life. As is the way with many things we go through. There are no answers.
The only way I know how to honor him is to celebrate this life that I am blessed to have. That I am here to witness the Lord’s beauty around me. To LIVE every minute and celebrate every moment like it is my last. Do what makes my heart smile. Seek the Lord and allow His will to be done through me. To be a blessing to those around me. That is what I am thankful for this Thanksgiving.
So, that is what I am trying to do and what I try to encourage others to do.
I still pray for us to lean into our Lord in these hard times. To grow together. To grow in our faith together. As a family. It is hard and will continue to be. But we have to. We have to for ourselves and for the next generation.
I hope I have not lost you. For those of you that were not here or do not know the story and would like to, I have linked my writings of the series of events from a year ago below. In sharing these posts again, my only hope is to reach those that need to hear these words. For them to know they are not alone and that there are people that have been through this. That know how they feel. That there is still beauty and light all around us.
How Do I Title This: November 22, 2016
Thanksgiving Eve: November 23, 2016
A Prayer You Can Borrow: November 27, 2016
The Aftermath: November 30, 2016
This weekend, while sitting by the fire with a cocktail in my hand and my dog at my feet, I put this string of songs together that got me thinking.
I hope you enjoy them.
Thanks to Middle Sister, K for sharing this last one with me. Pass it on.
That is all for now.
Reflections on a great clinic coming up soon!
Walk in love, dear readers.
Please pass along to anyone that needs or wants to read.
Your AHAmoment for today is brought to you by Sean McConnell. It is too good not to share.
Heart and soul. That is what matters. It is not what you have or what you do or where you are from. It is what lies behind your shirt pocket.
So true that it almost knocks the air out of me. Take me back to that ‘dying day.’ I refuse to believe it is dead.
Ironic how we call it ‘connected.’ Connected by internet and email and cell phones. I have never felt so disconnected with more of those things. But, What do I know? I am only 28.
Give me something that’s real
Like rock and roll.
Give me something I can feel
Down in the soul.
‘Cause everything is perfect.
Everything is clean,
Just an imitation of the thing it used to be.
Give me something that’s real
Like rock and roll.
And let me hitch a ride on a rusty freight train
Back in time to a dying day
When songs were played out of tune
And you could hear a heartbeat through
The radio.
Tell me something that you need
With all your heart.
Whisper secrets you’ve been keeping
In the dark.
Yeah, ’cause everybody’s talking
Just to make some noise.
Half the shit we’re saying don’t mean nothing anymore.
Tell me something that you mean
With all your heart.
And let me hitch a ride on a rusty freight train
Back in time to a dying day
When songs were played out of tune
And you could hear a heartbeat through
The radio.
We don’t look them in the eyes much anymore,
Hands in our pockets and our face down to the floor.
Everybody’s staring at their telephone.
We got the whole world in our hands
And we’ve never been more alone.
So give me something that’s real
Like rock and roll.
Give me something I can feel
Down in my soul.
And let me hitch a ride on a rusty freight train
Back in time to a dying day
When songs were played out of tune
And you could hear a heartbeat through
The radio.
Give me something that’s real
Like rock and roll.
~Sean McConnell
(Thanks to ShelliWayne on YouTube for the vid)
Typical day to day here. Wishing I could go ride in this gorgeous weather. Or go fishing. Anything. Prayers for it to hold trough to the end of Sunday. At present, it is looking pretty good.
You know who needs rain? Kansas. And Oklahoma. And North Texas. And all the other states suffering from wild fires. It’s a bad deal up there and no one seems to be taking about it. Talk about not connected. Whole ranches wiped out. Thousands of cattle dead. People have lost their lives and others are fighting for their livelyhoods. I have read that it is starting to look like the 30’s during the depression with the winds taking the barren dirt. They need rain in a bad way. Still, they are seeing the light in the dark. Plants beginning to sprout. Green amongst the black. Grave sites untouched, completely surrounded by scourched earth. Pages of hymnals able to be read. Stir that around in your pot of thoughts.
Next week starts weekday rides when I can. I would have gone today, but it frankly sneaked up on me. I am now feeling antsy pantsy, chomping at the bit to get out there. Story of my weekday life.
Blessed to have it!
Walk in love, dear readers.
I stumbled upon Carla Ber‘s blog a little while ago. Yesterday, not so coincidentally, she published a post entitled, ‘Go Deep. You Are Not Alone‘ basically discussing the very thing I was talking about yesterday, but just a little deeper (See what I did there?). Really, there are several things I have read lately that align with this.
The surface is boring, for all involved. Share your story with someone worthy. You will be amazed at how light and free you feel. By the connections you make. You are not alone. Am I a broken record yet?
It is the very core of why I wanted to start this blog. It is scary. It is hard. Boy, has it been worth it to me. To connect with you, my dear readers.
Sharing the story of my Uncle and the days following was terribly difficult for me. I almost did not do it because I was scared and heartbroken. I did not want to be judged or have my family judged. Thankfully, I realized that not sharing was not only the wrong thing for me, but it would have been the wrong thing for y’all. I feel stronger, lighter, and better for doing it. I can not thank y’all enough for your kind words and prayers. This is more than just about me though, I know that my sharing helped at least one person.
It is a serious kick in the gut to me (my pride) when I have a terrible ride and it is really all my fault. I try to share that though (and probably not very well because, hello, pride and ego) because that is the reality of working with horses. The reality of life. Everyone has bad rides and bad days. I walk in there with a big head, my horse is sure to humble me right down. It is about what you learn from it and how you grow from it. What you do with it and what you make of it. I at least know enough to know that I do not know everything. God willing, I have a lot of life left to live and learn. The horse has way more to teach me that I have to teach him. Most of all, to show up, continue to strive to be my best every day, and not compare my walk with that of another. Many days I feel like I suck at it, but that is OK because I am working on it.
I want to relate with you and know that I am not alone in my struggles. Know that you are not alone in yours. Spark ideas and open our minds.
Anyway, me being me and the way my mind works, reading her post made me think of this song (I know, I am obsessed with him). I hope you enjoy.
Thanks to Sean‘s YouTube for the vid.
Walk in love, dear readers. Share your story.
