Winds of Change
I literally wrote a post for Instagram this morning in which I talked about rest - how I’m not good at it and how I need to learn from my pile of lazy animals in order to do it better. You know, the standard post-restock fare.
But then within two hours of posting, my back went out. This is something that happens about once a year, usually around the end of summer, and I hobble around for a couple days unable to completely stand up straight without feeling like I’m going to spasm to the floor. I’m not saying it’s “normal,” because pain in the body never is, but it’s also not unexpected. When you work too hard, you pay the price - and I always work too hard in the summer. I’m just feeling QUITE glad that it arrived after the restock madness had passed.
Life’s just been a lot lately - has it been that way for you, too? In the grand scheme of things I recognize that I am safe and loved and well fed and have absolutely nothing to complain about. But there are ripples of change making their way through my life right now and all those little seismic shivers have me questioning everything. I guess I’ve just relied too heavily on things being “the way they’ve always been.” And with the new normal being that every day is a toss-up, I’ve had to decide between crying over how lost I feel or embracing the free fall and deciding to use it as a means to land a little closer to where I’d like to end up in the long run.
Most days, I’m all about that option two.
Not all change feels like a storm, though - there’s been some excitement as well. The long and short of it is that, through a series of choices Eric and I have made over the past five years (decisions that continue to tie into the ways we live each and every day), we’ve somehow found ourselves with the ability to begin looking for a horse property. This has been my very dearest dream since I was a kid - to be able to live with horses and space right outside my door - and I just want to weep, finding myself on the threshold of that possible future. Especially now, when the world is in such disarray.
We’ve got some hard choices to make, though. Do we try to stay here, close to our families and all that is familiar? We might have to wait a long, long time to find a property in our budget that doesn’t have a McMansion or isn’t situated RIGHT NEXT TO the highway or a coal power plant or a wastewater treatment facility (no, I’m not being dramatic - we have actually looked at beautiful properties with these unfortunate locations).
Or do we up and choose to move somewhere else in Colorado? A few weeks back, we drove down to the Gunnison/Crested Butte area to escape the smoky air and it was such a wonderfully laid-back place. Quality groceries might be a little harder to come by - but the mountains! And the cold! Also, how many times have I said I will someday live in an aspen grove? It would be possible there.
I’ve also spent a fair amount of time in my life daydreaming about northern New Mexico - some of the most magical land I know. The summers would be rough…but I have no doubt that the views would have me swooning on a daily basis.
And then, there’s the possibility that we could head east.
I love the open country. Big skies. Sage and rabbitbrush. But for the same price as a 5 acre plot with a “meh” sort of house here, in the Midwest or on the East Coast we could get a farmhouse from the 1800’s and 100 acres. And all of that within a 15 minute drive of an urban center, something Eric would greatly appreciate. The flip side is, would I ever feel at home there? Or would it always be like I’d ripped out a piece of my heart and left it behind?
I can’t say. We might make a choice and get it wrong. But horses and space - and maybe, someday, a place where I could pass along some of my jewelry making skills to others. I’m more than open to any opportunities the universe sends our way, but that’s the general direction.
And while we wait for the right place, while we look at pictures of houses and plan exploratory trips and dig into what it is that will make our next house a home, you can bet I’m going to keep taking every step I can to make sure that when The Day comes, we’ll be ready to leap.
One very big step was taken last weekend.
See, you can’t keep just one horse by themselves. As social, herd-bound creatures, that sort of isolation would be terribly cruel. SO - before we could even think about moving, my dear Cirrus would need a friend.
And I swear to you, I wasn’t looking - I just happened upon her picture. A sweet mustang yearling with a coat the color of gold. And when we went to meet her? Eric, my very non-horsey Eric, wrapped his arms around her neck and fell in love. His exact words when we got back into the car were, “Where do we sign?” When it’s right, it’s right - and you don’t argue.
So bring on the adventures and the uncertainty and the heartache because somehow, again, our family has grown stronger by one. Welcome to the herd Paloma.
