remembering and being

I remember the “magic boot” post I did the last couple of years. Those magic, red boots. The red boots became a known legend within themselves in our neck of the woods. Everyone knew the girl with the red boots… at the stable, at the post office, at the bank, at the…swimming pool. Anyways… As my girl grows, the red ones just aren’t available in her size anymore. She has a new signature brown now. While perhaps not quite as cute, much more functional. Just like a real cowgirl. Moving forward. Moving on, doing what you have to do even in the face of letting go of “cute”. A new years lesson perhaps. Ah, the feet may grow, the boots may change but the heart stays true. Hay awaits the camels of the Three Kings and her spirit awaits the midnight visit. Now- if those magic kings can just make it past that darn guard dog.

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a little bit of magic

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Mars, the moon, Venus and a little bit of light down a country fence to take us into solstice…everyday magic stumbled upon in evening chores that ran late as they so often do. Thank goodness I stopped for a breath and looked up…

questions from the barn tonight

sea of trees

Have you ever hit a wall? Wishing it could be a mirror that would reflect back into the world everything you know to be true in your soul?

Have you ever wanted to convince someone so much of something? Of who you really are? What does it feel like when they don’t believe you?

Have you ever seen such beauty, felt such strength, breathed such crisp lovely air? And, then, not been able to pass those sights and feelings on to ones you wish you could?

These are just my random questions to you out there, in blog-land. And to the universe.

“In our world we are constantly pulled away from our innermost self¬†

and encouraged to look for answers, 

instead of listening to the questions”.

-Henri Nouwen, Reaching out: the Three movements of the Spiritual Life

…courtesy of mindful balance

Saying goodbye

Sahe tractorIt occurred to me that in all the busy-ness of barn life-leaving one barn, working in another barn and moving into a final BARN (home at last)-I failed to honor an official good-bye to the “barn”.

While it has been months, it feels raw still. The barn that changed so much in my life in such positive ways. That barn that has made this NEW barn life possible. I am a woman I never imagined I would be. I am a cowgirl in every sense of the word. My daughter can say she was literally “raised in a barn” and know that means a hell of a lot. She is strong, she is amazing, she is courageous. She is more COWGIRL at nine years old now, than most would ever (never) understand how to be in a lifetime or even what the term means. It is FAR beyond cute boots and pigtails. THAT she has learned in this barn. I am grateful for all we, both, have learned there. THANK YOU. THANK YOU. And good-bye. What memories. “Cowgirl up” as the head honcho here would say. I will forever live by the lifestyle I have learned here. No matter how hard, how tough, how raw. Nothing can break a cowgirl.

Oh, Comes the Dawn.

when the quiet comes

thanksgivingthe barn has been quiet these days. I don’t mean this literally. It is rare, a quiet barn. I mean, this site. I keep up with my weekly “moment” photos and have been enjoying them. But the cowgirl, she has been short on words.

I sit here in the quiet of Thanksgiving night. Everyone asleep, the horses all brought into their stalls, dinners all fed, the house eerily still after the bustle of the day, dishes done, silence falling all around, cold settling in already at 23 degrees and falling. The ups the downs, the laughters and the disappointments of the day all done. It is now that I find myself drawn once again to words. To writing. To the barn of the soul.

flowers

It is easy to find gratitude in many things, moments, thoughts, feelings. The softness of my daughter’s cheek. The full table of food. The lack of want. The freshness of air. The beauty of the world.

It is not always so easy to find it in the quiet solace of the open space at the end of the day when the world sleeps. It is there. These are the times, my friends. These are the times that many turn on the TV, turn up the news, turn up the outside world to blur the quiet, to fill the space. In this barn, there is none of that. It is quiet space. It is the sitting with oneself that leads to appreciation. Not the hyped up, overdone, media-induced, would’ve been, should’ve been, could’ve beens but the true and deep moments of gratitude. They are quiet. They are empty. They are calm. They don’t need filling. They are also accepting of life as it is. Even in the heavier moments. Life is not about ups and downs, highs and lows. It is the peace you struggle sometimes to find, and other times not, that sits with you every moment of everyday. The solace of the open space… of… each… moment…

solace

Nevada

And…it’s a boy. Finally! This Mama Rescue…back story here…finally had her lil’ one. What a relief to all of us-mostly her, I’m sure!

Baby

Nevada is his name. No, I didn’t win the raffle, but I do love the name that was chosen. That is where Mamacita was rescued from. Fitting it is. And so cute he is. Look at those legs! Pardon the pictures. Mama didn’t want me too close, so I was respecting that and shooting from outside the pen. More to come. But for now, they can have their rest and peace. We will all sleep just a touch better.