Quiet Your Mind

Sunday was not a day of rest.  Ed took the day off from his regular work at the feedyard (this never ever happens) and he and the girls went for doughnuts first thing.  I got a whole bag of doughnut holes to myself and enjoyed the moment with creamer and splash of coffee.  Then we set about cleaning the horse barn and the tack room where we store the saddles, blankets, and other riding equipment.  It was time for the task any way and would help with putting a best foot forward with listing the house on the market, making sure things are tidy and neat.

What an odd feeling this is, having a house for sale.  People you don't know coming into your home and making judgements about you based off of what they see.  We are quiet, private people and have escaped this examination up to this point.  I feel violated like I've been striped naked and forced to walk down the freezer section of Wal-Mart. My nerves are raw and exposed.  I am a little concerned to write or speak, feeling like too much has all ready been revealed.  My obsessive compulsive disorder is at an all time high as you can imagine.  I have worn myself out stalking the house inside and out with a discerning eye, looking for any imperfections.  It is the Salem witch hunt of cleaning expeditions. 

While we were at the barn clearing cobwebs and organizing, I thought it was a good time to groom some of the horses.  This is one of my fondest ways to release stress.  Ed knows this and kindly did not say a word about me leaving him with the rest of the cleaning.  I set about combing out manes and tails carefully like they are tender headed children, brushing off fuzzy coats that are thickening for the winter, oiling hooves that are dry and cracking from drought conditions.  Something about pressing your face into the neck of a horse and breathing in that wonderful smell sets the world back on its axis.  Each horse lightened the mental load. 

In between grooming horses, I noticed the girls were riding their new horses in the arena.  Smiles on their faces and practicing their stops, spins, and patterns.  So confident and totally content in the moment.  Not worried about what changes lie ahead or over analyzing what it all means. 

Everything is happening so quickly it is almost blurred.  I reach out to grasp it...to stop it....and it is already gone.  Instinctively I feel the need to hurry my pace...to catch up...struggling with doing it all or getting it all done.  A quiet voice within hushes me and tells me to be still.  Conflicted, I consider both options.  At the barn I chose to be still.  Just for a little bit and in my own way.  Returning to the ways of a child and allowing myself to be in the moment. 

Quiet your mind.  Soak it all in.  It's a game you can't win.  Enjoy the ride.