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Sunday, February 19, 2017

its a chance for life

This blog has been a long time coming. I wrote it 4 months ago when I left Moab and I just got around to editing it (though I'm sure its far from perfect but I'm going to go ahead and roll with it). The Summer I rode 31 horses I am quite certain my father thought I had lost my mind when I told him I was moving to Moab, UT. I had worked hard at my career for ten years, working my way up, just about to achieve my goal when I decided I didn’t want it. Not only did I not want it, I realized it might kill me if I got it. In fact, it had already begun to kill part of me. That realization came to me, on the floor of my shower screaming in pain as my heart broke and the man I loved disappeared from my life. After the tears subsided and I could breathe again I felt an overwhelming need to break free. I knew I needed a change. With a stubborn mind I set my course and started on my way. Selling or giving away everything that I didn’t need, I packed up my little car and planned to camp in Moab Utah for the next six months in hope of finding a job, an adventure, but most importantly I hoped to find me. As I drove across the country I was met with a feeling of ultimate freedom. In giving everything up, everything I had put on myself, everything I felt like I was expected to do, excepted to want, expected to have I found that when I let myself go out of that box I had kept myself in I found total freedom. It was amazing! It was like I was seeing the world for the first time. Possibilities of my future flooded my mind. I could feel weight I hadn’t even realized I was carrying lifting off me. I had received a job offer the day before I got in the car. I was surprised and blessed. It was a tangible proof from God that I would be OK and that I was doing what I was supposed to do. The job was exactly what I had hoped I would find. I was going to be a horseback trail guide through the Moab desert! Horses had been an exceptionally important part of my childhood. After college however financial and business demand made it impossible to compete and I was lucky if I made it to the barn to see my horses a couple times a week. I was so exited to be able to get in touch with that part of me that I had allowed to be shut off for so long. The job was at a 4 star resort off the beaten path along the Colorado River and much to my mother’s delight, it came with housing. I remember laying in the dorm bed the first night, I was amazed at how lucky and blessed I was to have a roof, four walls and a kitchen. Then I had a panicked thought, would I be too comfortable to actually change my life? Would I still be pushed to my limits? Would I still be challenged to find myself? The self I had forgotten, the self that I had denied life? The beautiful, strong, courageous, uninhibited woman that I was meant to be? I had planned to live in a tent, to sweat, to bleed, to be ultimately alone so that I could find me. The fact that I had modern comforts, would that change my outcome? I promised myself that night, I would seek adventure and nature every chance I got. And I did. I hiked and explored whenever I could. It helped that my job was outside. In the heat, in the sun, I was cut and tried hours a day. By the horses I was asked to give and give and communicate and love. And I gave and gave and loved the wonderful beings with every ounce I had. There were two of us, just two to care for 31 horses, two pigs, 12 bunnies, six goats 14 chickens and three miniature ponies. It was a lot of work. Hot work. But I did it. I sweat and cried and muscled through the work. And I loved. I loved the horses. I loved the pigs and even though they were annoyingly loud and smelly I loved the goats. I learned all their personalities and quirks. I grew the confidence as a rider that I had lost as the career took over. Running through the hills, feeling the wind in my face, tasting the freedom that comes from the connection between horse and rider. Nothing else in the world exists except your two heartbeats racing the wind. Daring your horse to go faster, to stretch further. The more he trusts you the faster he runs, the more sure-footed he becomes, the higher the mountains you can climb. The more I rode the more relaxed and happy I became. The more free my heart felt. The more tired my body was the more peaceful my soul became. With the housing came people. There was on average 40 people living in three large housing units with multiple dorms. I worked and lived with these people, cook outs and evening drinks and parties in the common area outside our dorms built a quazi-family since we had all left our homes to live in the middle of nowhere. I made a friend, my neighbor, who had become my confidant and my only true friend in Moab. It was good to have connection far from everything familiar. It was good to have someone smile when they saw me come home after a long day. It was good to have someone to talk to as my heart went through so many emotions. Two months into the summer, my friend and I went camping to Bryce Canyon and the Dixie National Forest. The stunning rock formations, the pine trees and the eagles called my name. As we hiked through the wild I began to feel free. More and more free. I felt another weight come off me. Like the eagles above I could feel my heart begin to fly. And I flew. And my friend, he let me. He watched as my heart took flight, he supported me and smiled as I ran through the trails. And in that moment my heart that had been broken more times than it should have, my mind that had been stretched beyond all possibilities became whole. The healing that began months ago on my shower floor suddenly accelerated. It was going to fast for my brain to keep up. I found myself almost afraid. My mind didn’t trust my tender heart. I spent the next week arguing with myself, weighing possibilities, thinking of every possible outcome I could think of, reminding my heart that if I failed it would hurt again. I took a drive, a long drive through the mountains and into Colorado. I was supposed to meet up with a new friend and camp out at a music festival. When I got to the festival location I realized all I wanted to do was be back at the ranch and talking with my best friend. I finally allowed myself the answer. My little broken heart and bruised mind and injured soul had found a way to love again. In the abandonment of everything I had known, I found everything I had ever wanted. I cannot tell you how my life will turn out. I cannot tell you what my future will hold. But I can tell you this. I had lost myself. I had lost my soul, my passion, my happiness, my peace and most of all my strength. And in losing all of me I was forced to fight for me. I found the courage to search. I found a value in myself worth investing in. Most importantly I found out that I the strength to do it. I could live. I could live fully, happily, freely. So no matter what happens in my future I have the keys to unlock my potential and the courage to open those doors, walk through those challenges and not lose myself in the process. Only going through the darkness can we appreciate the light and now that my fire is lit again I will not allow it to be put out. Thank you to each of my friends and family members who allowed me to go. Thank you for believing in who I am. Thank you for the constant love and support. I could not have done this without you even though ultimately I had to do it on my own.