"Swallowtail" commented on my last post. I love when that happens! Even when I have no idea who the commenter is. It's weird, I know. but I love that the Internet has made this gigantic world seem like we're all next door neighbors. Since I believe turnabout is fair play (in a good way) I checked out Swallowtail's blog (http://meatpieandluna.blogspot.com/). There was some very interesting information about redwood trees which she cleverly connected with Obama's inauguration.
I quote: "The Inauguration Ceremony was for me, an inspiration. Perhaps the biggest and maybe most difficult task before us, is the one of learning to live in community. For instance, the Redwood does not slough-off the Poison Oak from climbing to great heights up her magnificent trunk. No, Poison Oak takes her secrets toward the sky, and blazes bright red every fall, a little closer to the high blue! "
Ah, yes, living in community. This seems to be the recurring theme of my life. Learning to be compassionate as I care for my father. Writing from my heart and being willing to accept praise and critique for what it is - friends helping me to be a better ME. Getting better at communicating with my Sweetie. Feeling the generosity of others. Witnessing love. Watching people be brave. Feeling proud and excited as my countrymen carry forth the torch of liberty and freedom. Praying for others and having them pray for me. Ah, community....
I went on reading Swallowtail's blog and came across this picture of her granddaughter, Mary. It was Mary's first time on a horse. Is it poetry in motion or what? Look at the flourescent orange cast and the red boots. Grandma wrote that this horse riding beauty is the family's newest member of the "Cowgirl Up! Clan"
I don't know what the Cowgirl Up! Clan is all about, but I've got to say it sounds like a fun group to hang with and I'm a little envious. Alas, I have to admit that I'm afraid of horses. I think they are beautiful creatures. I love looking at them. But I'm too scared of their size to get close enough to even rub my hand over the equine elegance.
I've had a couple bad horse experiences in my lifetime. I lost my virginity in the backseat of a Ford Mustang. I realize this doesn't quite qualify as a horse experience, but let just say it wasn't that great!
Before that there was the time a friend and I saddled up to go for a trail ride. For the life of me I can't remember why in the world I ever said this was something I would, or could, do. It must have been an adolescent peer pressure thing. Not unlike the previously mentioned Mustang incident, I got on that horse without having any clue as to what to do next. Things like how to hold the reins, how to make the thing go or, more importantly, how to make it stop were all Greek to me.
My memory of this event is a bit foggy; not from lack of brain cells, but from amnesia-causing fear. What I do remember is the angelic looking demon stood still while I mounted then took off like greased lightning. All I could do was hang on. I'm not sure how far or how long the ride lasted. What had to have been only minutes seemed like an eternity. We stopped for some reason known only to the horse in the middle of the woods. My steed seemed to think he had made it to horse heaven. That's all of the story I can recall. Obviously, I survived the nightmare. However I made a lifetime pledge to myself never to do that again.
I've heard it said that in order for one to conquer their phobias they have to feel the fear and do it anyway. I actually have fantasies about taking riding lessons; about owning a pair of red pointy-toed boots, tight fitting jeans and a blouse with snaps instead of buttons. I won't totally rule out one day in the future sitting astride a horse again. I'll keep galloping across a sun-swept prairie, with the wind blowing through my hair on my bucket list. But if the truth be told, I think I have a far better chance of getting lucky in the backseat of a Mustang than ever joining the Cowgirl Up! Clan.
Ride on, Little Mary, you rock!