I've been quiet lately, but enjoying my life immensely. Riding my horse as much as I can, spending more time in the fields than normal - just observing - or walking amongst the flock, without rushing or thinking thoughts of,
"I need to this, that, and then this today."
I am entering this stage of grief that seems like a long, long, flat path. I am not weeping or crying, I am happy and content but my body feels quiet.
Everyday I am asking myself what I need right now, today, for me. I shifted things a bit, remembering I'm an equal priority to the animals and farm.
I've been finishing up "Misfits of Love" so I can show it to some publishers or agents, and I am going to paint - I hope - all summer. Part of me feels a bit weak, like it takes an effort to get to my paints. But I think once I start I will be painting a lot. We shall see.
In the mean time I have my farm and animals to keep me busy and content. I am happy with sadness on the edge. But I am okay.
Whenever I look into their eyes, my sheep just bring such contentment.
