This is not how I wanted it to end. Not for Canela. Not for Crow nor Bayjura. Not for me. Not for you.
But Life is not a Fairy Tale. There is no Happily Ever After. Instead, there is this never ending story of love and loss, up and down, light and dark, pleasure and pain.
We can choose the middle ground. Stay secure, sensible, centered. Stay home. It’s easier that way. Safer. But some of us need to get out. Stepping outside our prison walls.
That is why we try. That is how we live.
The more you live, the more you’re going to have. And the more you’re going to lose, too.
The more we live, the more we are truly willing to brave the storms that life whirls around us, the more we will experience. And not all of it is good.
Last week, tragedy overshadowed triumph. the loss overshadowed the accomplishment.
Carry the light forward, dear friend Liz reminds me. Ditch the darkness.
I can try. But it’s still there. Always there. The night to every day. Too bad we can’t sleep clear through those parts of life and be awake only when the sun is shining, flowers blooming, grass lush and green.
It was my once in a lifetime journey. A once in a million lifetimes. The greatest thing I ever did in life. Doing what no one else has done. Finally doing something special. Finally proving myself worthy.
That sense of worthiness didn’t last long. In fact there are more folks saying “I’m sorry,” than “that was awesome.” Maybe it’s true that people see what they want to see. And are quick to forget what they wish they never knew. I asked you if it was all in vain. Maybe it was. Doing it. Sharing it. Should have kept it to myself.
If this story were a movie, my sister says, the ending is a punch in the gut.
I know. That’s how it felt in real life too. And this was real. Real life. The real deal. That’s me. Messy and messed up and a few too many steps away from being perfectly imperfect. The story of me and my life. I’ve taken more risk than most I know. Had more magic than most I know. And had my fair share of crap, too. But I’ve also been blessed with a fair share of luck. And more than a fair share of love. And really, when I take a step back and look at the bigger picture that is my life, I guess I feel pretty darned blessed.
I’m not about selfies and self promotion. Maybe I “should” be. I’d be more popular. Sell better. But I can’t be. It’s not me. I’m about living, full rich and raw. And sharing it, the same way. The good and the bad, the beautiful and the ugly. Because that is life. Not just the sugar coating. There’s spoiled meat and rotten eggs and sour milk, too.
I want to have the courage to bear witness to it all. To life. And to share it. Not just the pretty stuff. The fairy tales. The happy endings. That’s not real. I am. Life is. You are too. So we wake up each day and face whatever is in front of us. The more we’re willing to step out, beyond our comfort zone, beyond the safety of knowns and givens, the more risk there will be. And we must remember that there is a direct correlation between trauma and risk. The more risk, the more trauma. It’s a package deal. Is it worth it?
I won’t wear blinders, pick and chose what I get to see, what I get to feel. I will stand on the mountain top and feel the wind and cold and rain that mix with my tears. And when I am done crying, I will climb back down and return home, wherever home may be, that place in our hearts of unlimited love, and I will seek solace, curl up like a kitten in the sun, and lick my wounds clean.
I guess life is a never ending journey laced with trauma, success, pride and loss, death and new life, and love, always love, if we’re brave enough to feel it.
We must open in order to feel. And feel in order to truly live. In the meanwhile, lessons keep coming at us. Stop looking for perfect. Stop tying to be perfect. Start accepting where you are, who are you, and being okay with that. Stop waiting for something else to happen before it or you are “good enough”. Because guess what? That “something else” might make things worse. They might erase the ego’s joy.
That just happened to me. Again.
And in a moment, that moment of finding my beloved mare’s bones in the river, everything changed.
I thought I changed. I thought my journey had changed me. Thought everything was different, would be different. I thought everyone would be different towards me now. Look what I did! Am I good enough now? I know. Foolish. Silly, silly ego…
Maybe we never change.
But I’m pretty sure we do. How could we not, if we live with our hearts and minds open, and get out there, dancing in the wind?
A Long Quiet Ride 
C.S. Lewis: “If you love deeply, you’re going to get hurt badly. But it’s still worth it.” We love you and sorrow with you in your sorrow and pray for you always, c&s
Much love in kind to you, and thank you dear friend for your understanding.
I have been following you forever. Would love to find this in a book or the movies. Reese Witherspoon, Get your story out there. So many life lessons that we have forgotten. A grounding experience for all of us who would never imagine this. LOVE YOU.
Dear Lynn,
Perhaps I should write you privately, personally, as you mean so much to me in kind. At the same time, I feel sharing this story here and now might be the thing to do.
Lynn, you believed in me and I failed you before. Maybe the greatest lessons come in what we do not receive, do no accomplish, and do not get to keep, rather than what we think we’ll be able to claim for fame.
I was not born and raised a horse girl. I wasn’t one of those lucky ones. The first time I rode a horse I was 16 years old, in NYC, and earned the money to pay for that lesson myself. Something in my soul told me I was meant to share my life with horses, and for the next forty years, I have and will continue to.
Though I spent the majority of my adult life working with horses, the first horse that was finally truly mine was Tres. This was after a lot of years caring for a lot of horses that belonged to other people. She was 3. I was 35. Tres was nothing special to anyone but me. No papers, no particular breed, no fancy names in her history you’d recognize, but a strength and grace and grit I recognized and related to. I rode Tres at our wedding, twenty years ago, in the same silk gown my grandmother had worn sixty years before me.
The next year, Canela was born, Tres’ first of many. And a few years later, after Crow came into our life and was still at stud, Bayjura was born, the first for both Canela and Crow.
Then a few years back, long after Crow was “fixed,” it was Canela that I tried to artificially inseminate with your beautiful being, Hawke do Summerwind. It was a remarkably spiritual and intimate experience for both Canela and me. She stood for me, without restraints, and was willing to receive as if she knew what I was offering. She loved being a mother, and was a wonderful one. This would have been her last of several. Only I failed her then too. She did not take, and I never saw her cycle again. I don’t believe she was too old; I have had far older horses successfully breed and birth. But it was either not meant to be, or I was incapable of making it happen.
Now I look towards Bayjura. Canela’s first born. Tres’ first grandchild. And I wonder.
Bayjura, who just completed this journey and remains here with me and Crow, is now the boss mare of a herd of two. It’s quiet here. Time for a new era of new horses to come into our lives. My husband and I are committed. Yes of course to one another. But also to horses as a part of our lives.
With Crow retired, it is time for me to begin a new relationship, and start a new horse. This is a big thing. The relationship between horse and human lasts a long time. Twenty, even thirty years or more. The horse I start now may be my last. I have thought about adopting a mustang as I know there is a huge need. I have started mustangs before and know they can be solid, strong, sensible, and very, very dear.
But selfishly I would like to have a foal from Bayjura to continue the lineage that means nothing to no one but me. She is 15 and has never been bred. Of course I dream of that Hawke baby, and wonder if this is where it is meant to appear. But I’m tired of seeing signs and failing or doubting them, or trusting them and being so let down.
There is nothing practical about this wish. Then again, there is nothing practical about most of the greatest things I’ve had and done and known and experienced in life. I go for passion over practical any day. Though it doesn’t always work out so well.
No matter where this leads, I wanted to share this story. With you, with whoever may care to read it.
And send blessings, with humility and gratitude. And love, always love.
Heal for the summer. Plan for the spring. You have always inspired me with your dreams and your courage. It’s not too late for you and a Bayjura foal. Always yours, Lynn
Your journey has been inspiring and even the sad times. It is part of living. You have been so brave to stay with your convictions. As hard as it is to say good bye to your long time Canela friend and confidant, she was certainly loved and that is what life is really all about. You did that, you made her know that she was your girl, you loved her with everything in you. Love and hugs as you settle back in and don’t forget to relax a bit. We hope that time’s passing brings healing and peace to soften your sadness. Lorena & Jim
Welcome home Gin. Heal, and know you did an amazing journey that most of us could never even try. Relish in the accomplishment and accept the loss that came with it. Be forever the fearless heart that you are. We love you. Hugs to Gunnar, Jackson, Bob and Crow and Bayjura. See you soon my beloved sister.
What a beautiful note, beautiful words, beautiful heart and soul you have and have shared. Thank you, dear brother. With a bow, a blessings, and a big bear hug.
EverAfter IS a continual work in progress. Up n down n roundyround, too fast, too slow, hot n cold, splinters and bliss, and sprinkled with heartbreaking sublime beauty as we all gets ground to stardust
and lit up as stars
May we adventure on,
present, real, and fearless