wonder - AHAmoments

I have never understood the whole quarter life or mid life crisis thing. Always was an odd concept to me. A conundrum. I jokingly throw around the term at times. I typically think of age as just a number. A number that many people use as an excuse or something to dread. Or view as a ticking time bomb or one of those daily flip calendars with a finite number of pages. The truth is, you are the age you feel you are. I have never really felt my age, even when I was little. Dare I say that I typically think of myself as an old soul. I read somewhere that one should never admit to that if you ever want to get married. Well, I just did. I suppose I am doomed now.

“Yeah there are different roads to happiness
I took a different path I guess
Came out on the others side just fine
The losing side of twenty five”

Turning twenty five was no big deal for me like everyone makes it out to be. Well, on second thought, maybe it was. I was either twenty four or five when I died my hair on a whim. Making the decision as I walked in the door of the salon. Pretty out of character for this planner. It was supposed to be redish and my parents freaked out like I had gone to the dark side and said it was purple. It wasn’t purple, at least not after it faded.

Twenty six was a big one. When I turned twenty six I felt like I was kicked on my bum out of the nest, falling on a large stick puncturing my wallet as I had to get my own health insurance policy. A puncture that just keeps getting bigger. Like some terrible kind of graduation gift that just keeps on giving. I called that a quarter life crisis to be funny, but honestly, I still do not know why it felt like such a big deal. Everyone has to do it. The hair dying was probably closer to a crisis, depending on who you ask. Some people may even call this blog, created almost a year ago, a quarter life crisis.

“My regrets are far and few between
and I can’t say that they’ve cost me a thing.
Except some money and a little bit of love,
But I’ll give that up.

If I can say that I am still my own
Without the rules that they forced upon.
At least since they day that I was had
because I can’t go back.”

At twenty eight, I sometimes feel like I am back where I was at twenty three, fresh out of undergrad, wondering why on earth I worked to graduate on time and give up my ability to ride every day. Still with an urge to dye my hair and blame it on a quarter life crisis just because. Just because I feel antsy. Questioning my life decisions and wondering. What is next? What am I supposed to be learning here?

I don’t think a season of life in transition, with God pushing me into rest, prayer, and waiting, can be considered a quarter life crisis. That is what I think most people do.

Here is the thing though. Everyone is in their own boat on the same sea. It is all a part of the journey. AHAmoment. The path. Individual and unique, just like you. The end destination is the same for everyone on different roads with different challenges. Might as well enjoy the ride! Look back at the end and marvel at what was experienced and accomplished instead of regrets or what went wrong. There will be many more seasons of transition to prepare you for what is next, often feeling like the waves going up and down the beach. One minute you think you are up and then the next you are back. The key is to stay the course. Just like working with a horse. One bad ride does not doom the next. Give them time to learn and figure it out. One mistake does not define a life. Mistakes do not exist if we learn from them. Be patient. Pray. Learn and grow. It is hard, yes, but in due time, His time, you will know what the next step is and when to take it. The next season will begin.

“When you are at war with yourself, you are bound to lose.”

So, no. No crisis. Never was and never will be. I am over here, happily in transition. Faithfully waiting. My current season of rest. Still. It does not come easy for me, but with His help, it will get easier. I will be prepared.

I’m not going to dye my hair, don’t worry. At least I don’t think so.

How I get to all of that from listening to one song is a wonder to me. Hello? Did I lose you? Anyone still there?

The good news is, the strangles scare was just that, a scare. I will still check each horse just in case while I am out tending to my Lito man. Speaking of Lito. He still seems to be recovering well and is enjoying his short workouts. Keeping sound with no added heat or swelling. Barring any schedule changes, we should be ready for his vet check by Wednesday or Thursday next week. Fingers crossed, dear readers.

Walk in love!

What is it about the horse?

It is something that has captivated people for ages.

I often get asked what it is about horses that…works for me. Why horses. What they do for me. It is something that seems to intrigue people who have never experienced it before. A more important question it seems than how I even got into horses. It is also something that is extremely hard to put into words or capture in a photo because it is feelings. Energy. Images. Memories. Mere words seem inadequate. Very much like love, I imagine.

unnamed-1 — Checking cows on Saturday with the best mare.

Maybe you have experienced a mere glimmer and could not quite put your finger on what was captivating you. Or maybe you have wondered about someone you know. Or maybe you have wondered about me.

The presence. The beauty. The grace. The calm. The teaching and learning. Everything seems simpler with the horse. Our problems are trivial. We have a tendency as humans to make everything more complicated than it is or needs to be. They give us perspective on how narrow our sight is. They show us who we really are on the inside. What our actions mean. They encourage us to be better at more than just riding. They make us get outside of our heads and ourselves. If we let them, they show us what quality living is and how to do it. What is real and important.

It reminds me of a time while in college I was legging up a polo pony doing trot sets.

It was winter and bitter cold. If there had been precipitation, there would have been snow and it would have stuck. I could not get out to the barn during the day I guess because of school work, so I had to ride at night. There were other people there, I remember, but they did not ride because of the dark cold. I almost did not go out because of the lack of day light, but I needed it. It was more than mere desire and passion.

I layered up from head to toe and went to catch up my pony, Daisy. As I was fastening her halter, I noticed the full moon and the glow of everything. A quick groom and tack up and we were trekking to the track in the back.

As we started to get warm trotting around, the mare began to rhythmically snort in stride with the work. You know how good working horses do. I could see her smokey breath commingle with mine against the dark night sky. She was excited, but yet, so was I. We were in tune. On the same page. Knew what the other was thinking without words in the way of the unspoken language.

We both got loose and relaxed in the work and then I looked up and actually saw. The moon and the distant city lights set the mare’s coppery, chestnut coat and pipe fence line on a rust colored fire. I could make out the curvature of the surrounding crop fields and pivots. I could see our tracks in the freshly groomed dirt. I could see all the other ponies in their turnouts staring at us in envy, ears pricked and eyes shining.

In that moment I knew what IT was all about.

I was not thinking about the cold. I was not thinking about all the work I had to do. I was not questioning the unknown of the future. I was not focusing on my anxiety. I was not thinking about missing home. I was no longer missing home. I was there. Present. Just me and the horse. The gift of the horse from God in this place from God. Words can not express the feelings I had in the moment or the gratitude I still feel for it.

All my worries were gone. I was on top of the world on Daisy’s back that cold, wintery night on the south plains. It was very much like that ride on Cheetah before the holidays.

Have you ever experienced anything like that? What is to you that horses are for me?

Walk in love, dear readers!

Thank you for the inspiration and imagery, Jeannine and Liz!