I have been, all of my life, living with my Inner Child. I never out grew her, she is the the one who always tried to tell me to remember who I am. Telling me when as an adult I screwed up, "it's ok, you are still my friend and then kissed my hurt." I did not know she was there still for a long time. Comfort would not come from inside myself for many long years.
When I was raising my family I called on her to help me many times but never
let her stay or thought of her as still part of me. Only now that I am a Grandmother, a widow and alone have I let her be me.
Getting to know the child inside myself is a journey of joy and wonder over things that I never had time to notice when my life was raging with living and being responsible for my children's lives. I have to give her credit that for the most part, without her I would have not made it with my mind still intact had she not been with me the whole time.
There were the times in the playgrounds with my children that I became a child again, swinging higher than anyone else and showing my children how to do the jump out of the swing. I learned that playing was the best exercise I could have. I looked at my strong lithe children and knew that they did not do exercises on a mat or situps, or jumping jacks. All they did was play. They never had to work at staying strong and healthy, they played. I thought back to my child hood, bouncing on limbs of the vine maple, climbing trees, running to grandmas house, and down through the pasture for fun, without a thought that exercise was good for me, I was doing what was fun. I began playing in the park with my children more to the stares of some parents who did not get it. I felt full of wonder more and more as I played and so my life became simple through everything that followed in the years to come. Divorce, relationship break-ups, raising teenage children, grand babies being born, helping my young parents continue on when their lives were not perfect, as no life really is, the loss of my business and the hardest of all the death of a much loved husband.
That beautiful child in me pulled me through. The power it hung onto, to believe in something larger than myself and the wisdom of simple love it gave me for myself is the soul I was born with speaking to me and telling me to hold on. Here it tells me, listen to this bird song, look at this snow flake falling from the sky, this first pussy willow of spring, this frost, this sunrise, this cloud, these cannot be taken from you. Treasure the simple things, the precious memories. Live in this moment before you and be glad for there is worse in the world and you know it, but this moment here in front of you is yours. Look for the beauty in it.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Friday, January 15, 2010
Winter into Spring
The wind has blown for two full days now and is still blowing this morning. Living in the shelter of Mountains can do this but I think Nature is doing its work again. It whips the leaves off the trees in fall getting every living tree and shrub that is supposed to shed its leaves ready for bed and the sleep of winter. New leaves cannot grow where the old leaves have been, until they are gone. Now it is Winter into spring and the job of cleaning has to be completed and the wake up process must begin. Wam air has arrived along with the late winter winds, it rattles the trees and with the warmth jars them out of thier deep winter slumber, soon the rains will come to give them a drink to wake them further. After they have woke up enough and have begun to sprout the gentle lullably winds and soft spring rains arrive...bringing life back every spring is a job only Nature knows how to do and all I have to do is let her.
As I listen to the winds through the night and into this morning, I at least can know it has its purpose and is a gift to enjoy. I cannot go out so easily for walks with my dogs or to the grocery but I am witnessing the wakening of life. Who could ask for more.
As I listen to the winds through the night and into this morning, I at least can know it has its purpose and is a gift to enjoy. I cannot go out so easily for walks with my dogs or to the grocery but I am witnessing the wakening of life. Who could ask for more.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
It's morning again
The wet kisses from Munchie woke me this morning at 4:55 a.m.
Nothing new about the hour or the kisses. I lay there making picture thoughts in my mind. I have this idea that dogs can see what you are thinking, if you think of something active they like to do. Words do not mean so much to them I have found as what you think. I try to think of the action of the door sliding open and the dogs going outside without moving to see if they would start to move about. I knew Munchie was thinking of something like that but was not sure if he wanted to go outside or just snuggle. That of course, is a person thought not a dog thought. At 4:55 a.m. in the morning unless a dog has gotten cold they are not thinking of snuggling. Munchie does not get cold, he has too much fur. I knew what he wanted and my experiment was much likely of no use at the moment I was choosing to do it, because he had already alerted Sofie and Phoebe to the "Go Outside Go Potty" thought.
I gave up crawling slowly, gradually sorting myself out from under my little sleeping space I had carved out. Stretching before I stand, arms high and then move side to side, trying to work out the kinks if there were going to be any. Two dogs were in agreement with the thought as I bent down to move the stick out of the slider groove on my slider door, great locking mechanism by the way. I know many people have this same locking system on their slider doors.
While Sofie and Munchie were outside, I decided to make my coffee. Phoebe insisted, as normal , that she was fine and only poked her head out from under the blankets of our bed with her worried look on her forehead that is characteristic of Besenji's. Phoebe knew, I am sure that it would be best to stay in her blankets and that, again, the crazy woman she lives with was going to make her want to dig in a little deeper. When I got into my bathroom with my coffee pot to fill it with water, I felt something in my eye so I put the pot on the sink edge to look for a cotton tip swab. Found one and fixed my eye problem. "Good" I thought "all better" as I turned to toss the swab into the garbage. I should have lain it on the counter like I normally would do,thinking I could use the other end for something. Instead, I was feeling lavish this morning so turned to toss it and in the process of the turn and because my girth has expanded over the winter some what, I brushed the coffee pot off the edge of the sink and into the sink. I barely brushed the pot, such a light brush really, I could not imagine that the crash I heard was the coffee pot and was absolutely stunned to see it smashed to bits in the little sink that it dropped into, only 3 inches of a tumble. "Oh No!" I said out loud, two or three times and at different pitches of terror..I would guess. I saw bits and pieces of red pot handle and lid lying in the sink looking dangerous all tangled up with the glass shards, how to get another pot? The white coffee maker upstairs in the kitchen for the renters? Will it would fit? The thrift stores maybe? These thought ran through my mind in milliseconds. With my mind still racing, and fuming, I came out into my living/sleeping space to find a paper towel. Phoebe was looking out from under the blankets, a worried look still on her face, she was right to stay hidden and she knew it.
I managed to get over the fuming and gathered the glass shards into the paper towel and tossed them into the same garbage can as the swab I had so easily tossed earlier. Wasetful is what I was, I kicked myself as I told myself "You should have used the other end of that que tip and this would not have happened." I was kind enough to myself about it though. My life is full of things that happen that lead me into some other gift, I do not beat myself for long.
This morning the gifts are not appearing easily. I climbed the stairs to the kitchen upstairs, got the white coffee pot that I knew had a different lid. This would cause a problem with the maker that I wanted to use. It makes better coffee..and the lid I know has something to do with that. The little red ball on the top of the lid pushes up a little button under the filter area and lets the coffee grinds steep for just the right amount of time. I had this idea that perhaps the lid would work on the white pot. No matter which way I tried it, no, it would not work. "Should I go get the rest of the coffee maker that goes with this white pot?" I ask myself. "Oh no it will not be as good, it just won't." I am now in tantrum phase, so keep struggling with the lid and finally find an old dental instrument, that my dentist gave me with a broken tip. I use it to work on my mosaic art but it now came in handy to hook into the little valve on the coffee maker to push up the button so the brown liquid I wanted could come through at the right speed. I weighted the long handle down with a roll of duck tape. Duck Tape, 3M's miracle to man...It worked great, but there would be no early snitching of coffee before the whole pot was finised.
I heard small woofing outside my slider so I let Sofie and Muchie back in. While I began to blog and while I was waiting for my coffee, I heard the tell tale gurfing of a dog behind me. "Oh no" "You are not going to throw up in here, outside both of you!" Sofie and Munchie were sent back outside, then let back in shortly there after when I thought the worst was over. I then realized that I had stepped into the gurfing material while letting them in and out so it was another job for the wonder of paper towels.
I have finally had a cup of my fine coffee...later today I will bring the white coffee maker downstairs until I can find another pot for my much loved red coffee maker.
Life needs to be made simple, not into a war, especially in the morning before daybreak. Today is good, I have my coffee and I know Good things are going to Happen.
Nothing new about the hour or the kisses. I lay there making picture thoughts in my mind. I have this idea that dogs can see what you are thinking, if you think of something active they like to do. Words do not mean so much to them I have found as what you think. I try to think of the action of the door sliding open and the dogs going outside without moving to see if they would start to move about. I knew Munchie was thinking of something like that but was not sure if he wanted to go outside or just snuggle. That of course, is a person thought not a dog thought. At 4:55 a.m. in the morning unless a dog has gotten cold they are not thinking of snuggling. Munchie does not get cold, he has too much fur. I knew what he wanted and my experiment was much likely of no use at the moment I was choosing to do it, because he had already alerted Sofie and Phoebe to the "Go Outside Go Potty" thought.
I gave up crawling slowly, gradually sorting myself out from under my little sleeping space I had carved out. Stretching before I stand, arms high and then move side to side, trying to work out the kinks if there were going to be any. Two dogs were in agreement with the thought as I bent down to move the stick out of the slider groove on my slider door, great locking mechanism by the way. I know many people have this same locking system on their slider doors.
While Sofie and Munchie were outside, I decided to make my coffee. Phoebe insisted, as normal , that she was fine and only poked her head out from under the blankets of our bed with her worried look on her forehead that is characteristic of Besenji's. Phoebe knew, I am sure that it would be best to stay in her blankets and that, again, the crazy woman she lives with was going to make her want to dig in a little deeper. When I got into my bathroom with my coffee pot to fill it with water, I felt something in my eye so I put the pot on the sink edge to look for a cotton tip swab. Found one and fixed my eye problem. "Good" I thought "all better" as I turned to toss the swab into the garbage. I should have lain it on the counter like I normally would do,thinking I could use the other end for something. Instead, I was feeling lavish this morning so turned to toss it and in the process of the turn and because my girth has expanded over the winter some what, I brushed the coffee pot off the edge of the sink and into the sink. I barely brushed the pot, such a light brush really, I could not imagine that the crash I heard was the coffee pot and was absolutely stunned to see it smashed to bits in the little sink that it dropped into, only 3 inches of a tumble. "Oh No!" I said out loud, two or three times and at different pitches of terror..I would guess. I saw bits and pieces of red pot handle and lid lying in the sink looking dangerous all tangled up with the glass shards, how to get another pot? The white coffee maker upstairs in the kitchen for the renters? Will it would fit? The thrift stores maybe? These thought ran through my mind in milliseconds. With my mind still racing, and fuming, I came out into my living/sleeping space to find a paper towel. Phoebe was looking out from under the blankets, a worried look still on her face, she was right to stay hidden and she knew it.
I managed to get over the fuming and gathered the glass shards into the paper towel and tossed them into the same garbage can as the swab I had so easily tossed earlier. Wasetful is what I was, I kicked myself as I told myself "You should have used the other end of that que tip and this would not have happened." I was kind enough to myself about it though. My life is full of things that happen that lead me into some other gift, I do not beat myself for long.
This morning the gifts are not appearing easily. I climbed the stairs to the kitchen upstairs, got the white coffee pot that I knew had a different lid. This would cause a problem with the maker that I wanted to use. It makes better coffee..and the lid I know has something to do with that. The little red ball on the top of the lid pushes up a little button under the filter area and lets the coffee grinds steep for just the right amount of time. I had this idea that perhaps the lid would work on the white pot. No matter which way I tried it, no, it would not work. "Should I go get the rest of the coffee maker that goes with this white pot?" I ask myself. "Oh no it will not be as good, it just won't." I am now in tantrum phase, so keep struggling with the lid and finally find an old dental instrument, that my dentist gave me with a broken tip. I use it to work on my mosaic art but it now came in handy to hook into the little valve on the coffee maker to push up the button so the brown liquid I wanted could come through at the right speed. I weighted the long handle down with a roll of duck tape. Duck Tape, 3M's miracle to man...It worked great, but there would be no early snitching of coffee before the whole pot was finised.
I heard small woofing outside my slider so I let Sofie and Muchie back in. While I began to blog and while I was waiting for my coffee, I heard the tell tale gurfing of a dog behind me. "Oh no" "You are not going to throw up in here, outside both of you!" Sofie and Munchie were sent back outside, then let back in shortly there after when I thought the worst was over. I then realized that I had stepped into the gurfing material while letting them in and out so it was another job for the wonder of paper towels.
I have finally had a cup of my fine coffee...later today I will bring the white coffee maker downstairs until I can find another pot for my much loved red coffee maker.
Life needs to be made simple, not into a war, especially in the morning before daybreak. Today is good, I have my coffee and I know Good things are going to Happen.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Horses in the afternoon
Driving into the muddy property caused a bit of, "oh maybe I should have stayed home and had a nap" to cross my mind. I jumped down onto the ground out of the 4X4 I was picked up in and heard my friend say, "I want to move Flash so I can get the tractor in to clean his paddock." The nap thoughts left my mind as I searched for his halter and rope. There is something about getting gear together and the plans running though your mind that takes you away from all other thoughts. A perfect break from any reality troubling you. Working with horses takes your total focus and is mentally more healing than any drug I can think of.
The power of my giant horse is beyond belief. To take control is my whole focus as I walk him to the round pen. Between the young stallion and the two new horses that were just brought in to save them from slaughter, Flash is feeling his ancient flight animal instincts and wants to dance and leap, not walk with companionship and respect beside me. I have to stop, stand in front of him asking him to look at me. The movie Avatar comes to mind "I see you" pops into my mind. I have to tell him as I stand extra tall with strong will and force, to back up. I am becoming the mare or that at least, is what I am hoping to convey to him. I do all of this and walk him in small circles to get his attention several times before we get to the round pen. Inside the round pen after I let lose the lead rope, he begins to run and snort. The two new horses are right next to the round pen and I see where the rope halters are. My favorite halters are on the two new horses as they have just recently been moved into the grassy spaces they are in. Flash has not met them before this moment and is beside himself with excitement so I decide to leave him to it for a bit while I went to brush out Hawk. Hawk is a special guy, the 30 year old Arabian who is loved by anyone who meets him. He is known as The General. Being 30 Hawkie's coat is thick and takes a lot of brushing to make him able to keep it standing well for the cold weather, if it comes again. Tasha the Thoroughbred,Quarter Horse cross mare spends a good portion of her time stretching her neck across her stable wall, twisting Hawks mane with her teeth and tongue, causing a Rasta style mane to develop. Today I decided it was time to comb out his mane, the dogs all ran through and around me and Hawk as I dipped under his neck, over his back and under his belly over and over again as I brushed him and again as I worked on his mane. I used to be concerned about pulling to hard on a horses mane. Then I began riding more and after holding onto Flash's mane to pull myself up, or to not fall off. I know now, they are OK with it.Working with the horses today, I thought back to when my daughter had her horse. I still find myself surprised that now, at my age, I have Flash to care for. I do not expect to ride the way she did, bareback, ragged edged blue jean cutoffs, tan legs, long sun lightened summer hair, with everything, her horses mane, and cutoff frays flowing in the wind. Such magic in that memory, another that I have stored on purpose. "Remember this" I told myself when I was given that moment of beauty.
I got Hawk brushed and his mane untangled. Cowboy Magic in the spray bottle came in handy for his mane, he tried to act like the spray bottle made him nervous but we both knew better. The only thing that Hawk really cannot tolerate is butterflies.
Now it was time to take on Flash as he was covered in mud and looked like a clay Trojan horse at the moment. It is hard to believe that these horses love to roll in this stuff, but it is their great joy. Who am I to tell a horse they are not right.
If they were running free as they do in the wild , they would be scrubbing the mud off on brush and trees as they shelter under them. These horses to not have a whole lot of that going on.
I entered the round pen with my tools, a long pink stick with a thin rope tied into one end and my curry comb. I had thought to bring in lead rope but decided against it. One more thing to deal with and I knew he was being a bit silly so decided without a lot of thought process, that it would be better to use vocal command and see how it went.
I ran him around the pen a few times and then gave him the signal to come to me in the middle. Then the command to stand and he remembered. I rubbed his forehead and told him good boy while going to work on him. I began to think " this is sand in here too, is it cement?" I managed to get things loosened up and moving on his shoulders, rump and back, the legs would take more work or a bath. Keeping the biggest part of the body brushed out is the most important in the winter. The horses are in paddocks out here so their feed and muscle tone can be controlled better which makes for more mud in the winter. They are all healthy and beautiful horses but paddocks take more work than pasturing.
I finally decide that Flash has had all he can take of my scrubbing him with the curry comb, so send him off to work as I have him trot round and round the pen, then practice commands to turn and finally stop while I have a cup of coffee and a break.
Then it is time to bring the horses back to their now clean paddocks which they are all anxious to do. It is their homes and their relaxing areas and they have been working. Flash picked up his ball that had been tossed in his pen and so did Aries...their lips amuse me to see them lift them just so as they take the balls in the tips of their teeth. They pick them up and rise their long necks into the air then raise themselves up on their hindquarters as if to shoot a basket into an invisible net. In horse life this is playing and is fun to watch.
Then it was time to come home again, have a shower with Sofie, she is white and had a good time with me in the paddock with Hawk and it showed, we went straight into my bathroom, no going into my living space, and showered up.
I then made salmon with garlic powder, honey, butter and pecans for my dinner.
I visited with my sister on IM and then watched American Idol and snacked on Satsuma oranges, had the last bits of a chocolate with almond candy bar for dessert and crawled into my cozy little bed.
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