What am I doing going out there when things are so sweet here?

~

Here I am. On an idyllic ranch on a wild river in some little mountains full of bounty, beauty and blessings. A loving husband, the greatest friends and neighbors this woman could want, cats and dogs, chicks and ducks and a garden that feeds us year round.

Ah, the carrot that lures us back.

But first, there is the journey. Inward and outward. That’s what this is.

~

Leaving it behind. The comfort. The knowns and givens. My bed and bathtub. My dogs. My man.

It begins this Sunday. Though it feels like it’s already begun. Because before that morning that I step in the stirrup and lead my ponies up and out of this little bit of paradise, out into the great unknown, there’s been years of dreaming and the last year plus of plotting and planning, packing and prepping and figuring out ways to strap all this crap on my partners backs, the best route to find food and water for those horses around the West, navigating anew through social media and learning apps which is a whole new ball game for me who managed to go without a phone until last month. And then there’s the part about trying to get the world I’m leaving behind in order for my husband, the land, the animals, those that are concerned about where I’m going and those that will be here holding down this fort while I’m gone.

Hang in there with me, I tell you as well as myself… it’s almost time. But first, there’s just one thing I want to share before I hit the road.

~

This is what I want to share.

Only I’m having a hard time finding words to say it. As a writer, that’s not like me, but tonight my mind is in a hundred places, and the wind is blowing it in a hundred more, most of them unknown.

It’s something about not wanting to live any one else’s life. Do you remember the day you realized no one had the life you want?And if you really wanted it, it was up to you to build it?

It’s something about that inner compass thing. Because sometimes you have to learn the questions before you figure out the answers. You have leave to find what you’re looking for. Maybe it’s your self. Maybe it’s your home. Maybe it was in you, with you, there all along. And sometimes you have to get lost to find your way home.

It’s something about each of us finding our true north, our true self; honoring, accepting, and quieting the fear, judgements, criticism, need to please, and worry about keeping up with the Jones’ or caring too much about what the neighbors will say. (Lucky me, mine say wonderfully encouraging things.)

We all have our own unique path, this is mine. Only I’m still not completely sure what that is. You’d think by now I knew. I don’t. I’m still learning. And I hope I always will.

It’s something about being out there, experiencing and sharing, one rambling at a time.

So here I go. Searching. Seeking. Out there. In here.

And writing about it, as I tend to do. Because now and always, I can’t not write.

Like I can’t sit still for long.

Maybe I’ll find a temple on the back of a horse, my sangha out there among fellow travelers, my guru in nature and in strangers I meet on the road. It is time to take my practice off the cushion and into the world. What will I find?

I don’t know. Maybe we never really do.

What am I looking for? Me. You. Answers to questions I don’t even know. The meaning of life and my place in the bigger picture. Things like that. Big questions. Deep stuff.

And so we’ll see if I can find what I am looking for as I wander around the West on the back of horse.

Look within, I heard you say, instead of always looking out there for some answers you already have.

Maybe I already have what I am looking for. But how will I know unless I go?

I leave you with this. A little poem I wrote last week at an online coffee shop gathering with my dear sweet soul sisters of poetry:

~

if dreams were seeds

am I the one that found its place in fertile soil, rich and damp and deep

or one caught in wind landing on fallow land, dry and barren, waiting for the rain

or can one be it all, roots and branches and everything in between

as the weed that grows wild just outside the garden fence

is allowed to flourish and maybe bless you with a blossom?

eternally caught in this time and space between heaven and earth,

between here and somewhere else,

between who I am and who I wish to be

wondering if we ever arrive

or is it all a journey of heading toward

and never arriving?

my bare feet ache to roll toes 

deep in familiar soil.

my eyes long to recognize

the birds that come with seasons

the wildflowers that suddenly emerge and pass

the trees that fall in a passing storm.

but something happens in my soul

every time my feet feel firmly planted

and there i go

unfurling freshly woven wings

and waiting for the wind.

~

#wildride #spiritualjourney #horseadventure