Somewhere between acceptance and gratitude or, varying degrees of doubt.

Today I am pissed at my email, in a shitty mood because it has not produced the email I am waiting for, and a little disappointed in my ability to "keep the faith" and/or feel grateful.  For a solid six days I have been religiously repeating: 1. The strength it took to look honestly at that time period was hard earned; hold onto that and stay proud of that. 2. If nothing, save a lesson, comes of this, the lesson is valuable enough. 3. The outcome will not define you, does not define you; the outcome is not a reflection of you as a person, it is simply the decision of someone other than yourself.  4. Let it go, see number 3 and let it go. It's been a long six days. I believe, with all my heart, that all three of those are completely true statements. I really do wish...

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And they call me Queen of the Walk

It's no secret that I don't like to go fast. Facts are facts; part of me is a big chicken. I say things like... I need to work on my posting, I haven't really done much lately, I'm sure I have forgotten the right way, I look like an idiot, I should take lessons again, then maybe we'll talk about cantering and all this "you have to go fast business". Truth is the key is feeling, not to mention a lot of trusting that enough to let go of the perfectionist, intellectual freak that says thing like "you look silly cause you aren't perfect". I look pretty hot at the walk. I love trotting about with Rev and Lou, so long as very few are around to see me go beyond the walk. Did I mention, I look great at the walk. It's the letting go that tends to keep me at the walk, the trusting myself part,...

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It's green cause we all agree that it's green.

My mom believes that we have collectively created our (general) reality. Trees for example, are green because we all agree they are green and therefore it becomes reality for us all. It's perception. It's choice. It's even a bit of compromise. Reality is a funny thing, it can be different for us all. The reality of my childhood is not the same as my brother's reality and we grew up together.  If it's really choice then we can choose a better reality even in the face of what is normally perceived to be a negative reality. It's all about perception. You really can change your life by changing your way of thinking. That being said, it's hard shit to actually do.  When I started this blog, I thought I was pretty hot shit. I was very impressed with myself...

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Oh Patch, how I wish we could have some chips and just chat.

Patch loved chips, he'd also stand right next to you and wait patiently for his next chip. For that matter he'd stand next to you and wait for any treat you might possibly have. That being said, he'd stand right next to you, treat or not, and listen to you ramble for as long as you needed. I will now stop with the although, thereby, and that being said, and for that matter, crap. You could talk to Patch, you could hang out with Patch. I spent many hours telling Patch things that Patch likely cared nothing about. We discussed everything from the price of bedding to the horrors that came from trying to re-figure life out at forty something. It'd be nice to chat with him tonight, he's been heavy on my mind. Mostly because there is so much I'd like to tell him....

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Just a horse, dog, cat, chicken, mouse, spider, or slug

I got to hang out with Bill today. Bill is one of my very favorite people. Bill is my dear friend's little boy; Bill is two. Bill calls me Auntie Cars not because he can't say Carol and not because his mommy is my "real" sister. I'm Auntie cause that's what'd I'd be if the world made the connections I saw fit (helps that his mommy agrees) and Cars because, well because, I have cars. I don't have real live, grown ups can drive, cars laying about the yard. I do however have the cars that Bill likes. There are areas of the house that look a little like a Match Box wrecking yard, Bill loves it. As a result of these two things I am Auntie Cars.  There is such beauty in a person whom has not been commercialized. I can watch Bill for hours and never get bored with his discoveries. What...

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I sure do love my boy

I think of Rev and I just smile. It's really that simple, it's really that amazing. Rascal Flats covers a song by Hunter Hayes, one of the lyrics is: "I don't know how you do what you do 'Cause everything that don't make sense about me  Makes sense when I'm with you" The song is a love song; the song is about a man declaring his love to a woman. The song is not about how wonderful it feels to wrap my arms around my horse's neck and feel him move closer.  My horse; how wonderful that feels to say out loud. Rev is as much mine as I am his. It really is that simple, it really is that amazing. ...

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Rev AKA "Sweetness"

When I walk up to Rev it goes a little like this: "Hi Sweetness, how is my boy?" Typically there is a discussion about my day, a few questions about his, a reminder that he is super handsome and that I love him, a kiss planed on his big old butt while I look him over for oddities and remind him that the Princess moved so he won't get bit anymore. I have had the honor of knowing some of the gentlest of horses. Brody, Texas, Patch, and P all come to mind instantly. Some of the gentlest souls have come to me in the form of animals, more than a few of those animals have been horses. Much like people, they were all gentle in there own way, for their own reasons, because of (or as a result of) their individual circumstances. They each taught me something different. They each showed me a new reason...

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