Deb
Reader, Thinker, Writer, Lover.
131 posts by deb
November 17, 2015

Building Materials

Written by Posted in Blog Posts Comments 1
building

Frankly, I’m sick of myself.

It’s very hard to take my mind off of my own stress and issues; some days, seemingly impossible.

 

I got an amazing gut check from Anne Lamott this morning, in her book, Bird by Bird. She said, “To be engrossed by something outside ourselves is a powerful antidote for the rational mind, the mind that so frequently has its head up its own ass – seeing things in such a narrow and darkly narcissistic way that it presents a colo-rectal theology, offering hope to no one.”

 

Basically, when my head is up my own ass, all I see is, well, ass. It becomes my religion.

 

Self-focus is like building myself from shifting sand. When I go to bed tonight, is this really the footprint I will have left in the world?

 

Or can I do something, one thing, to turn the spotlight from my darkly narcissistic heart onto something bigger?

 

I want to build myself from steel and bones. From love.

November 8, 2015

Is Loving Them Worth It?

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princess

I don’t know how I managed to make it to 42 years of age without losing a pet. I was never an animal lover, believe it or not. It wasn’t until we adopted two little shelter kittens, 11 years ago, that I fell head over heels in love with all of the furry creatures in the world.

I had been expecting Princess, our little tabby cat, to go for a while. She was sort of wasting away…down to about 2.5 pounds, but the vet agreed that she was actually pretty healthy. She suggested we should just enjoy every day until Princess told us it was time for her to go.

And on the night she began to tell me, I just understood and knew. I snuggled her up next to me in her heated bed. I kept my hand on her belly all night, counting how many times she was breathing each minute. Sometimes I would drift off, then wake in a start, panicked that she had left, but she was still there. Quiet and curled up. I found myself wishing she would look up, scratch me and run off, as she often did when she felt smothered by my affection. Read more…

November 6, 2015

There She Goes, Rambling about Miracles, Again.

Written by Posted in Blog Posts, Horse Magic Comments 0
miracle

Teen Group 1: Depression, anxiety, PTSD, substance abuse, aggression, suicidal, fear, abuse, neglect, anger, self harm.

Teen Group 2: Confident, engaged, well-behaved, respectful, friendly, talkative, gentle, calm, introspective.

Am I describing two different groups of kids? Nope. This is the same group of teenagers; only in group 2, they are surrounded by loving therapists and volunteers who are totally invested in their engagement and success. And most importantly, they are paired with a 1200lb animal that doesn’t care about their history or diagnosis. This animal only cares about the current moment. The animal’s questions are: how will you treat me? Do I respect your body language? Do you make me fearful or make me trust?

 

And just like that, a miracle occurs. A miracle. In mere minutes. Read more…

October 27, 2015

When Our Kids are Hurting (and we don’t know how to help)

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child

Illness.

Depression.

Bullying.

Failure.

Loss.

The only thing worse than going through hard times is watching our kids go through hard times. Never is the instinct to protect and fix stronger than when the little people, entrusted to us by the universe, are hurting.

I’ve watched my kids go through their share of heartache; enough to last a lifetime, thankyouverymuch! There are days and weeks and months where I think, “Enough! Enough heaviness. Enough challenge! ” Read more…

October 23, 2015

On Loving Horses (Or, “Bless her heart, she’s off her rocker.”)

Written by Posted in Blog Posts, Horse Magic Comments 0
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It’s 6am mornings, dawn barely breaking,  40 degrees and wind howling, bucking bales while they whinny for their breakfast.

It’s pulling a wagon through three inches of mud and slop, slipping and sliding while your hair swirls around your face.

It’s worrying until 11pm, then finally caving and heading out into the freezing drizzle to blanket.

It’s picking hay out of your pockets and horse treats out of washing machine and dirt out of…well, everywhere.

It’s having them raise a hoof to you and yelling, “Oh, I’ll GIVE you a reason to raise a hoof at me if you don’t put that down this minute!” Read more…

October 21, 2015

Written by Posted in Poetry Comments 2
aspen

Each morning

begins a little slower

than the last.

 ~

I wander outside,

early,

which is my custom.

Orion’s Belt hangs above me,

lazy,

in no hurry to head west.

 ~

The sun takes its time rising,

pacing itself for the long journey south.

 ~

As the day slowly heats up

the smell of sage and leaves

fills the air

and I make my way around –

setting things in order

for the coming cold.

~ 

And the geese,

sure signs of change…

I hear them calling

far to the east, near the sunrise

~

I stand still,

struck quite dumb

as they move west over my head

honking,

their wings stirring up the atmosphere above me

 ~

They’re hurrying,

always hurrying

to some important destination.

 

October 7, 2015

Love Affair with a Foggy Morning

Written by Posted in Poetry Comments 3
fog

I am cocooned in a symphony of sound.

Each melody, specific,

Each accent, amplifed.

 ~

In the distance, a train’s engine rumbles

as it clatters along the tracks,

a low, mournful horn song drifts on the

dense morning air.

~ 

Every bird song is distinct –

Twitters and squeaks

Chatters and winnows

Some percussive

Others rhythmic:

A dawn chorus.

The clouds push it down to my waiting ears,

rather than allowing it to escape upwards.

 ~

The farm is my chamber

for a musical festival

where I am surrounded,

Delighted.

 ~

I shiver and smile

and pull my jacket close around me

the mist falling across my face.

The cottonwood in the distance

a ghost,

black and skeletal.

October 1, 2015

Don’t Wait, Mama.

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kids

I always intended to read to her more.

I was going to teach her how to cook.

I meant to show her the best way to clean a bathroom.

I always wanted to cuddle up on the couch nightly with a book.

We intended to hike Maroon Bells.

Read more…

September 29, 2015

Written by Posted in Poetry, Prose Comments 1
gray

Some days I look in the mirror,

and am shocked by how young I look…

because on these days, I feel the length and width and

breadth of my 42 years

in my bones.

~

My body no longer reacts quickly to anything.

Today I feel last place up the hill-

knees

shoulders

hips and ribs moaning in argument.

It takes a century to

make my lunch, finish my workout, walk to the car.

I marvel at everyone around me

who seems to be moving so fast.

~

I feel the 23 years of raising children

heaviness of

triumphs, heartaches

busyness, worries, and constant movement

in every cell and muscle.

~

I feel days into weeks into months into decades

of need,

of no rest for the heart.

~

Some days I look in the mirror and expect to see

silver, thinning hair

loose skin

sunken, rheumy eyes.

I expect to see hands shaking slightly as they reach up

to touch my lips, remembering when they were

young

and full

and kissable.

~

I expect to see winter.

~

And yet, staring back at me is late summer.

There is color and roundness in my body

and sparkle in my eyes.

And I wonder if this is what autumn feels like –

full to bursting, putting on a show,

but knowing it is slowly moving into rest.

~

And I think it must not be so bad.

September 28, 2015

You Can Pry the Control from my Cold, Dead….

Written by Posted in Blog Posts, Horse Magic Comments 1
cloud

Believe me when I say that I like to be in control.

Those who know me well enough to keep their mouths shut might describe me in less generous terms. I like to be in charge, I like to know what’s next, and I most certainly don’t like surprises.

So when I began riding horses at (ahem) a later age in life, I found myself in a bit of a conundrum. When boosted up onto a large, flighty, sometimes unpredictable animal, my control instincts went into overdrive. I think this is why dressage appeals to female riders my age: there are rules to be followed. Tests. Timelines. Clear measurements of success. It was created by the Germans, for goodness sake. Read more…

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