Tuesday, October 15, 2013
Taking time to ask the hard questions
I've been spending as much time outside as I can, and want. It is beautiful, warm, sunny - and one can sense it will not last. It never does. Nothing lasts, except love.
I've been inward lately. Not morose. Just asking questions and letting the answers come from me, not from an outward source. I think this is important for me to practice - gather all the information, ponder, percolate, ask more questions if needed, then ask myself what it is I need - and want. What do I lack that I might have pushed aside? And what do I have I should have pushed aside? Who or what am I allowing to take up precious space in my brain when I could welcome something else in - something that brings about positive rumblings, not drama or angst.
I realized some days ago how educational it is for the soul to lose a mother. That sounds wrong. But it is true. I am learning things about myself, now that the initial days of mourning are over and I'm left with...me. There are patterns of opening up a boundary too quickly when meeting people, people that seem caring and interested in your real soul, but only are there to satisfy something they lack; or to use you as a mirror so they can enjoy your goodies and avoid their own issues that are making them miserable.
So I go to my horse. What a gift to have him, and the farm...and Martyn. I somehow managed to listen to the right universal guides, and my gut, when I met Boone, and Martyn. Of course I'd had good experience picking the wrong horse, and the wrong mate!
Yesterday I did a four hour ride - it was like being transported back to youth in some ways - I rode the open roads this time, allowing me to see vistas and the mountain ranges dotted with autumnal color. The sound of the horse's shoes on the packed dirt road - simply put - heaven, transformational, pure pleasure for the listener.
Today I rode again and as we walked under the tree groves of the upper hills, leaves fell on us, his feet made the downed brown entities crunch and swish under foot, just as they did as I played in them as a child, or ran through the campus quad as a young girl. But here today, it was just my horse and I who felt it.