life

drive

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“This is going to help me with getting published…

And, when I’m published I’m going to acknowledge you”

My response: “For being your mama?”

“For being a supportive mama and doing my editing”.

Quiet…clicks of typing

“How old do you have to be to publish a book?”

My response: “I don’t think there’s an actual age”

“Oh good, good, good!”

Back to the clicks of typing.

This is the morning scene and talk here. I’m literally typing this into my phone as she says it because I want to remember. I swear my kid makes homeschooling easy. I’m literally sipping coffee on the couch. “School” is still on break for us. These are the moments when I totally get “unschooling”. We’ve been talking about a little more computer use for her and starting typing skills since she is getting older-ish. This morning was free to be lazy, play with Christmas toys…she asked to use the computer and write in a “document”. Thus….

You go girl, you go!

This was the story she started working on yesterday while we sat with a banker making a retirement contribution and discussing where to invest it. So happy the guy had an inviting notepad and pen on his desk.

The day St. Francis lost his head

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Francis statue

Where to begin with the strange tale I am compelled to tell?

St. Francis

St. Francis is stalking me.

He must have a message for me anyways. And he is using some humor to get through to me. He is also a saint that knows how to get my attention. It’s not always so easy to get.

While not overtly religious, I have always had a fascination with St. Francis of Assisi. The man, the myth, the legend, the saint. I’ve always been drawn to his story and his path of compassion for others, especially animals. This has been true since I was a young girl. Interestingly, I went on the career path of helping others-mainly children and animals.

St. Francis and I have not always been close in the more recent years. However, last year- my daughter and I studied him in great depth while homeschooling a block on Saints and Heroes. My love for St. Francis was rekindled and, together, we really studied his path.

sing praise

Fast forward about a year, I opened my therapeutic barn business on a wayward path that I felt deeply inside, yet never saw completely, but God laid out for me -story to come. I happened upon a beautiful statue of St. Francis in a garden shop one day that touched me and reminded me of our long-enduring relationship. I imagined St. Francis somewhere magical on the property “looking out for” those that needed it- the children, the animals, the vulnerable, the…..me. That statue, beautiful as it was, was just too expensive to justify purchasing. That was okay, it renewed my spark to honor his vision in my barn.

A few weeks or so ago, wouldn’t you know, a (slightly plainer version of that) St. Francis statue turned up in my life for $20. He came home with me. He was lovingly placed in my “meditation garden”. I felt the barn was complete and took it all in with gratitude.

Four days ago, my daughter had a friend over. They were having a snack at the dining table by the window that looked out over the garden. Her friend suddenly said “why do you have a headless statue out there?”. I moved over to the window to look. St. Francis had fallen over and his head was broken off. Oh shit….

I figured that I would get out there, recover his head and super glue it back on. Holy again. Not too worried. Went on with a couple of busy days.

Last night, I stumbled upon this inspirational quote that spoke to me in a “dark night” I found myself embroiled in. I was finding myself, now, no longer surprised by St. Francis’ stalking behavior. His messages speaking loudly now. I shared it on a personal social media site. I try to be selective there on what I share. But, you know -when St. Francis speaks to you. You shut up and be the instrument. Right?

St. Francis

So, today I went out to the garden to fix his head. My daughter was with me. The funny thing was that I also had a group of five other kids with me here for a “barn-day” camp. They wanted to come back into the garden to play with the puppy. While they were throwing a tennis ball around, I snuck over to find his head. My daughter followed. …..there was no head. I couldn’t find St. Francis’ head! I looked over at my daughter and said “where’s the head???” She said, “I don’t know, I can’t find it”. We looked, and searched, nowhere to be found. Yet there was nowhere it could’ve gone as it’s in a small fenced garden area. The head is GONE. For a moment I felt sad, or guilty, or something. Would I be struck by lightning? Then I looked back to my daughter and said “St. Francis’ head is missing!” and she started laughing so hard. She has been having a tough time lately, lots of rough emotional stuff for a 9 year old to deal with. My happy baby hasn’t been smiling so much these past few weeks. Her smile lit up the garden and she laughed, oh she laughed. And in that moment, I felt St. Francis’ presence, I felt his smile, I felt his grace, I felt his protection. And, I started laughing too….so hard. Then over my daughter’s shoulder I saw the group of kids laughing and chasing each other around and felt that this was what was meant to be here. Laughter, beauty, love, fun, healing and GRACE. By God, grace is here if nowhere else in the world. The barn will be a place of grace. Even when St. Francis’ head is broken, gone and missing. He wasn’t a statue made of stone, he was a saint made of love and grace. He blessed us in his brokenness, just as he did in his life. What I love most about St. Francis is that he was not perfect, he was rough and broken in his day. He knew he was human and full of mistakes. He also knew he was full of love, giving, kindness and grace. How could he give all of that if he had not had need for it in his life?

“I’ve cussed on a Sunday. I’ve cheated and I’ve lied. I’ve fallen down from grace a few too many times, but I find holy redemption…..can I get a hallelujah, can I get an amen…” -maren morris

I almost want to end there. Because the rest gets unbelievable-but…this evening after all the kids had gone and the evening fell quiet, I felt a spiritual pulling. I decided to visit our spiritual center tomorrow morning. Haven’t been going as regularly as I once did. I went online to see what the talk would be. When I went onto the website, a list of classes being offered popped up. Well, wouldn’t you know “Living the Prayer of St. Francis” is a class starting on July 9th. And, this is a spiritual center mind you, not a Catholic Church. St. Francis is stalking me. I will heed this stalk call. I’m signing up for the class tomorrow.

And, I still hope to find your head St. Francis. Thank you for helping me find mine.

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Writing Challenge: A moment that took my breath away

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wide open spacesTonya over at Fourth Generation Farmgirl hit me up with this writing challenge. Please check her blog out if you haven’t already. It is a fun and beautiful blog! This challenge spoke to me and looked fun, so here we go:

A moment that took my breath away. I just had one yesterday. As a matter of fact.

I volunteer at a facility for “riders with disabilities”. I help teach one day a week. I have a class of five children with varying disabilities (I like to call them alter-abilities). Anyways, my daughter and I do a lot of volunteer work at this riding center. We cross paths daily with all sorts of amazing people. Some may qualify for riding for physical disabilites, some for developmental, mental or otherwise disabilities. There is a large scope of people there. Well, anyways…my weekly class and the five kids in it had a party this week to celebrate the end of the riding session. Pizza and fun.

The moment that my breath was taken away was when my daughter, who is technically a “volunteer” (she goes and helps with cleaning stalls and little chores while I’m in the arena). Well, she sat down at the round table with my five students and she ate pizza, laughed, played, teased, helped and loved everyone of them. As if there was NOTHING DIFFERENT AT ALL ABOUT THEM. I realized in that moment, that there really was NOTHING DIFFERENT ABOUT THEM. And her little soul simply knew that. They were simply kids, she was simply with friends, and she was simply having fun at a party.

I saw, in that moment, all that was right in the world. That my daughter didn’t see the “differences”. That I had raised her in a world that didn’t see the “differences”. And that all of these beautiful six children blended into a group of fun and happy kids. Period. It was beautiful. It gave me hope for the world. It reminded me of what’s important. It reminded me that we are all one. We are all in this together.

It took my breath away.

horse sense

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MOnty pic

Well, well it has been quite the exciting time around here the past couple of weeks. Last weekend was a Saturday Hippotherapy clinic. Sunday was a Centered Riding Clinic. And then, this past weekend was a Monty Roberts demonstration which we attended with VIP tickets. Mind you, I have traveled to California “Flag is Up Farms” for clinics and expected to meet Mr. Roberts, but, alas-no he was out of the country. So to finally see him in person and talk with him (per the VIP splurge) was excellent to say the least. What I really like about him, specifically, is how he relates working with horses to life in general, to working with people. His book “Horse Sense for People” really is the greatest book I have ever read. He projects the skills used in horse communication to parenting, work relationships, career, life, everything. Trust, respect and communication being the basis for all things. He promotes non-violence in all ways (including our words). Also, he is 80 years old and still touring, teaching, training and riding. What an inspiration.

MOnty pic 2

The funny thing is that in all my horsey years I really didn’t know too much about Monty Roberts. Not long ago, an old college friend of mine who was visiting mentioned watching some Monty Roberts videos in his master’s program for teaching. He explained how it was used to open a discussion about how teachers teach and treat children. For some reason, that really fascinated me. And, from there, I started reading his books. Then, of course, my daughter fell in love with Shy Boy. We watched the documentary, read the children’s version of the book together and met Mr. Shy Boy when we visited the farm. I’m not one to be “star struck”, but I will say if I’m going to be–it’s gotta be Monty. Did I mention, that I (out of all the hundreds there this weekend) won the raffle for some free equipment AND got a hug from the Horse Whisperer. Ok, anyways. It’s been a good couple of weeks of learning and re-energizing. For all we know, we always continue to learn. Any (horse) person who treats others as if they know it all, is only kidding themselves and limiting their own possibilities. We are a community of people and we can learn from each other, we can respect each other, and we can always pick and choose what we want to use and/or believe. To accept from another and be open to new things is not to limit ourselves.

Horses don’t lie and other life truths

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Join up

 

So, I’m reading this book, “Horses Don’t Lie:  What Horses Teach us About our Natural Capacity for Awareness, Confidence, Courage and Trust” by Chris Irwin with Bob Weber. Bear with me while I quote a passage from the book. You see things are on my mind and, isn’t it just the syncronicity of life, that always has us reading just the perfect book, or hear just the perfect words, or stumble across just the perfect thing at the perfect time? Well I am reading just the perfect book right now.

“Horses don’t lie-they always tell the tuth with their bodies. There is no separation between what a horse thinks and what it’s body says. People, on the other hand, bluff and pretend and hide”.

“In other sports, if you’re not having your best day, it doesn’t bother your equipment. Your golf clubs don’t care if you slice and your surfboard doesn’t care if you fall off. Horses, however, care intensely. Remember, they are counting on us to provide clearly consistent leadership-we are the ones who are supposed to know what we’re doing…So an equestrian must possess more than physical skill. The rider’s mind must remain constantly focused on the moment-to-moment application of pressure and weight…constantly aware of the surrounding environment, looking for distractions. The rider’s spirit must calmly and confidently project straightforwardness into the horse. We ourselves must possess these skills of the body, mind and spirit so that we can impart to our horses the attributes of impulsion, balance, flexion, focus, awareness, trust, calm, confidence and willingness. I know. This is a tall order“. Mr. Irwin continues to express how we must be (in my words) our own authentic self, true to ourselves and just keep on trying….

“I’ll get better, but right now this is where I’m at and my intentions are honorable”.

Once again, I find a “horse” lesson is one of the best “people” lessons there is.

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Meanwhile, back at the barn, there are some possible changes on the horizon; there are definitely many things to think over here in my little land. They are not things I intend to directly address here just yet. At this stage, they are ponderings and possibilities on the horizon. I will think them over, sit with them, feel them, attempt to use the attributes discussed above to know what the best is and to know that whatever may come, “my intentions are [always] honorable”. And if I stray from those intentions, I’m certain my (embarrassing) horse will let me know.

Personal growth doesn’t come from avoiding risk, challenge and stress. We must make peace with it.

well worn boots

 

“You don’t always need a plan. Sometimes you just need to breath, trust, let go and see what happens”

–Mandy Hale

Beauty

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And, here it is. I have struggled with what my first post should be for far too long. I keep thinking it has to be perfection, beautiful, embodiment of this new wonderful life. Then as I was sorting through pictures, I saw this one I took one of my first days here. One thing I am learning in my few months here is to let go of high expectations, accept what is and that “what is” can be beautiful in it’s own way. And, here it is.