To love her, is to have finally met myself.

I knew I could eventually get back in the saddle, if ever it became important to me again. But for her,  for her I wanted it to be real, for the first and most likely the last time. For the only time a love this strong would be available, in it's most unconditional form, for her hands to grasp. I wanted it to be hers because she deserved it. I wanted it to set her free. I wanted it because to love like this, I am my truest self.

Brokeback Mountain

Life is a constant evolution. The person are today is not the person you were yesterday, a month ago or most certainly the person you were a year ago.
You meet people, you lose some people and your life just keeps moving along, sometimes at a pace that you can hardly keep up with. Sometimes at a pace so painfully slow that you can't do anything more than stare at the clock and watch it's methodical work. It ticks one tick at a time, 60 ticks making one minute.

Brokeback Mountain started 3 years ago. My heart was lost and sullen, I wasn't sure I'd ever feel again. She changed that then and she changed it again.
She's gone now for the second time but will Brokeback Mountain ever come back?

As the movie goes, Brokeback Mountain comes back to reignite,  over and over until one of the characters in that particular love story dies.

Am I dead now or will this stir again as it has before?

Will there be a postcard from Ennis? 
Even a few articles of clothing remains in my closet. I couldn't dream of erasing what was by tossing them all away.

And so now its time to stand on my feet, brush off my jeans and "cowboy up." I just never expected the fall.

My Life's Purpose - How it came about.

I struggle frequently to recapture many of the memories from my childhood. Few are so clear and vivid as the first time I saw our dog Mitzy. The full circle aspect comes to mind and thinking of how much love I had for her delivers one of those Oprah "A-ha" moments. 
Mitzy was an American Cocker Spaniel (mix), I assume with knowledge of the majority of AKC breeds. Bearing in mind that the AKC know what they are looking for in standard of breed, yet has little knowledge or regard in their actual health. 
Mitzy was skinny, matted and afraid when we saw her. Nervously pacing down by the barn. We assumed that she had gotten away from a neighboring farm, where I'm sure she faced a life of neglect. It looked like she had been on her own for a bit, nonetheless. 
The bravery it must have taken for her to wander onto my aunt and uncle's farm must have been immeasurable. To have wandered off or to have been left on the side of the road by another human and to realize she didn't have much hope if she didn't find another human to try to trust with her life and those lives of her unborn puppies, must rival the most deeply rooted worries and uncertainty. 

I believe it was my mom who took her to the humane society. My mom told the people that worked there that as soon as they had completed necessary veterinary evaluations and vaccination updates that they were to "hold that dog for her," and she'd come immediately to pick her up. Knowing she was carrying a large sum of puppies inside would have changed nothing, I'm afraid.
This dog turned out to be the most loving animal I'd ever known. I remember sitting on the floor, I kissed her back (in my mind I was kissing her boo-boo) as the vets thought there was a possibility that she had a hairline fracture in her pelvis. I remember that moment clearly because I had began to cry. I was wrought with the emotion of why someone would have treated her as they did. I had only known her a day or two and I had already fallen deeply in love with her. I told her, I promised her in that moment that she'd know no other abuse and know no other home. I think my specific words were a bit more simplistic, as I was only about 7 years old, and probably more along the lines of "no one will ever hurt you again and you can stay with us forever."

She was a nurturing, motherly dog. I anticipate she was this way from having a litter (or more) in her life. I feel she looked after my sister and I, put up with our pesterings, licked tears from our faces and cuddled with our other Cocker Spaniel, Cinnamon while they both avoided constant harassment from our dachshund, Tiny. 

The last time Mitzy licked a tear from my face was a life changing day for me. A complete game changer. 
Due to various painfully and increasingly more obvious circumstances, I figured out that my parents were getting a divorce. This shortly before my 9th or 10th birthday. I had suspicion but how, at that age I knew, is beyond me. The most painful part for me was not necessarily the separation of family but that in the down-grade of from house to duplex, my mom sister and I were facing, we also had to re-home Cinnamon and Mitzy.
The physical and emotional pain involved with having to give your pets away, to a little girl like myself was nothing short of being palpable. When I was told, my stomach hurt, I couldn't catch my breath and I was dizzy. I ran toward my bedroom, made it to my doorway and shrunk down the door frame. I imagine I was emitting mournful, gut wrenching and heart sick noises. I could hear my mom in the kitchen frantically dialing my grandparents to come over and help her contain the heart and souls of her two daughters who were actively being stripped of what they knew to be everything that was important. 
I was sobbing, in between sobs I was calling for Mitzy. I needed her to come bury her head in my chest while I wrapped my arms around her and let everything that hurt come pouring down in sheets, from my face. I remember I just kept calling and when I opened my eyes, I realized that she was already there, before me. She was trembling and quietly whimpering, probably with a certain fear of what could be the cause of such chaos. The chaos that at the time she didn't realize would undoubtedly separate her from us, indefinitely. 

Mitzy was the first dog I shared a deep human / animal bond with and the love she made me feel has served to form my entire life's purpose. She taught me unconditional love, and through her struggle, taught me that I am no more deserving than any one animal I share existence with, near or far. She was my first broken heart, watching she and Cinnamon get into another's car and go for a ride, to their new home was one of the most difficult things I've ever faced in my life (there's a small list). It was definitely one of those moments in time that will never be forgotten, where adult views of childhood memories has no power of changing how the reel played, and never will. 

Social Standards

There comes a point when you have to recognize some things in life. Some of those things will change you your life for thw better.
There's nothing wrong with you if another doesn't treat you with the moral and social integrity that you would them. Or anyone else,  for that matter. 
Step back, recognize you have not created it by anything you've done, nor is it any of your responsibility to own it. Take a second to hold the person in the light and then move forward again, toward your own. Just keep moving forward.

Broken

In being able to admit that you are broken, you are less broken than most.

Mayberry; How I've evolved, what I've taken away and how it shaped me.

To expand on my last post "It's Home," I wanted to write something about why what was written in the post would feel like home and why it would heal me.

I grew up in a small community, one a lot like Mayberry.
In "Mayberry" everyone knew who's kid you were and if they didn't know that, they probably could figure it out if you told them who your grandparents were. They knew you by your blue eyes, or blond hair. They knew what church you belonged to, if you went to Sunday school last Sunday and most "importantly" if you had been baptized in the name of Christ.
As much as my world has expanded since my up bringing, I've tried as best I can to take from it what I valued. The closeness of neighbor (even if your neighbor was a few cornfields away), the willingness to help, and the peace and beauty that nature provides are all the things that I hold very near and dear to me.
A long with all the things stated above, my family was very close knit for quite some time. My grandparents owned a farm, and had the biggest, most beautiful garden I'd ever seen. I used to brag to my friends that it was as big as a football field, I guess everything looks bigger when seen through youthful eyes. The weekends were always time to hang out with cousins, have lunch at grandma's and then go pick beans and berries and all the other wonderful things the football field garden would yield of my grandparents hard work.  Some of my best memories are from grandma and grandpa's house, picking berries was just one. Our family was close, and that was the standard I was brought up by. No one was aloud to leave angry, and you don't hang up the phone without saying "I love you."
When I was a kid, my house was full of all sorts of animals. From flying squirrels to goats and eventually owning a horse, my love of animals was developed instantly and continued to evolve, of my mother's. Every single job I've ever had (less the waitress job I had for a total of 3 months, or less) revolved around animals. I started helping my mom at her grooming shop, when I turned 14, just as soon as I could be issued a workers permit. After that I worked at two different Morgan show horse / training, breeding and boarding facilities. In caring for and working with horses, I learned the basis of how to understand every other species of animal that I now work with in small animal practice.

Even though the majority of my blood family has moved away and I've had to rebuild what I have, from the ground up, the one thing I've noticed about life, particularly mine is that everything comes full circle. I've learned that having animals in my life is as essential as breathing. Having family in your life that you've hand selected, animals included, is as good as any blood family. Giving back to the people and things that have given to you, having a garden, living in nature, living sustainable, living peacefully, living fully - those are all things I've learned. Elements I've pulled from my childhood.
And that's why the farm, the land, the coffee, the dogs, the horse(s), all of the animals in need, no longer in need, the field, the whippoorwill and the fences will heal me.

Because it is all of me. It will be my foundation, MY home, and one day, I will have it.

It's Home

As I walk down the corridors of my mind, to investigate what thoughts are my own. 

I see the most beautiful view that I may have ever known.

A beautiful piece of land, hardly touched by humanly needs.

And just to the west, a field full of fat, contently grazing steeds. 

Coffee in hand, dog at my feet.

Breathing in life before the afternoon heat. 

The dew sets prisms of color cascading through the tall grasses of the wild grown fields. 

Reveling in the fact that one day this place will be all mine. 

The place where my heart and soul will heal.

It's Home. 

Promise to the Faithful One

To the filly I grew up with, to the mare you are now. No matter the length of my departure, to the next time I open your gate, my love for you could cure the world's hate. You've been there for me when the world and everyone in it has fallen away. For that, I owe you everything.

You are like my sister, my daughter, the love of my life. You are my heart and my soul and there has never been a day that you haven't made me bust at the seams with pride. 

I respect you as equal to me, I do not expect that you take me as your rider and think that you have no other option. I only hope that you trust me enough that you accept me as I do you. 

And though you are currently a boarded horse, I promise you I will work until the day that I can look at you and your herd from my kitchen window as we both know a home together for the first time. 

Just as much as you are mine, I am Faithfully Yours. 

Any other song.

I sure am trying my best to put my thoughts of you to rest. So if in your heart I don't belong,  please play any other song. Don't make me sit with you and wish these pretty words were for me. Only to walk home in the darkness and know they'll never be.
If by chance you mean it but you can't say it, please save my life baby and replay it.

Maybe it's all the same.

Sometimes I wonder what to write to fancy those who take the time to read this blog. There are so many important and worthy facets that I could write about, in my life.
My life is intense. I work with sick animals, and I love the people I keep close to me, very meticulously.  I've lost a lot,  I feel like an orphan in my own home area. I have lofty goals - the only way I've known. I have a lot of experience with alcoholism. I daydream of my farm sanctuary / hospice care for animals that I will one day have. I think often of how I want it to be sustainable as possible. I'm a modern hippie.
So do you want to hear hear how I've survived or who / what / why and just exactly how I love??
Or is it all the same?

Solitude with Pets

What is life if you cannot share it with anyone?

I'll tell you what it is. It's time. Time to find out just exactly who you are. It's quiet time in your apartment that allows you to deepen your connection with perhaps the pets you share existence with.
What's great about solitude with animals is that it's a kind of solitude that doesn't allow for loneliness, if you're able to love them without boundaries. This happens if you are able to see them as equal, and if you embrace the thought that whatever creator, regardless your beliefs brought you to exist with the same intention and care as they did any given animal, capable of breathing the same air you do. What's best is that if given the chance, they'll teach you more about yourself than any one human being ever could.
The reason being is that they force you to use a form of communication so primal that it forces you to be real,  your authentic self in every encounter you have with them. They are incapable of premeditated negative thoughts and they love unconditionally. So if inside of you a good person exists, they create a space where even if they've done something "naughty" they render you incapable of anger for long periods of time.

Animals teach you that it's not in the label of the relationship in which the quality of the relationship exists. It's that every relationship is important. Regardless the length, the quality or what the other person or "thing" can offer in monetary value.
If someone or something is no longer in your life, perhaps it's not the person or thing that was of most value, it was the lesson and the bits of love that you were able to pull from it, regardless the situation.

I think it's best to carry on in memory of those no longer present in your life, with thoughts of love or to remember them in the best way possible rather than in negativity.

Misdirection

I guess I have no real idea where this blog is going to go, or what it is intended for. I started out with an idea of sorts and it became something different. I'm sure I'll circle back and tie it all together at some point. For now, I guess it's going to have a feel of misguided misdirection.

Story of my life.

Just a collaboration of random things but I hope you all get some enjoyment of it.

Namaste

I Won't Bleed.

I know one thing to be true.
For the right person, there's few things that I wouldn't do.
And though I know it's not my business to weather anyone's storm,
If I love someone, I will keep them safe and warm.
I would hold a hand through the night, 
Until they felt safe and secure in the morning light.
And even if all of this they have not earned,
You can't put a value on the life's lessons learned.
Even if day after day, she lives blindly fulfilled in having no need,
I hold out hope that someday she'll realize that if she doesn't drown,
I won't bleed.

You Wait

She's not ready to hear it. You handle people in your life according to what they're ready to feel and hear.  You take care of their heart and handle their feelings with care, respect and love. You tell them when they are ready, you wait if they're worth it.

The Pieces that Cut my Hands; Bleed me Anemic.

I look around me, and see the pieces of what used to be my identity shattered with jagged edges,  just at my feet. And just how life always is, the clean up much like the destruction itself, is to be done without protective clothing.

You can almost smell the iron from the blood of my being, as the clean up process begins. My soul bleeding out onto the floor beside the pieces of myself.

All that I never wanted became everything I needed, before I gave it half the recognition it deserved. It's gone now but not because I paid it no attention. The reasons are unknown, and my anemic, hollowed soul wishes it back. Regardless its shape or form.

My soul again lacks the oxygen it was finally getting, after so long without. 

Just My Ego Talking ... Rambling.

This blog was named lovingly: "Entering the Passageway," it was named as such because that's what I believe I did.

This blog was created in hopes to recapture the last few days, and specifically the last few moments I had with a loved one. I did nothing with this space for a very long time as since the time this person passed, I've been growing and expanding and coming in and out of my own authenticity. It's also very hard to gather your thoughts and be openly explicit about a specific life event, knowing full well that some may not receive your story, your truth as kindly and openly as others. 

I also started the blog because I've always longed to write, since the very beginning of my egoistic consciousness. Since I could recognize the power of words and enjoy the flirty, romantic relationship I have with putting them together in dazzling and impressive ways. Maybe not so dazzling and impressive to others, but dazzling and impressive to me. I also recognized that my attempts at writing would always be futile, if not writing about something of passion and certain depth.

That said -

I've been a spiritual person for as long as I could form a thought, for a long as I have fantasized about being an author. I have also been an animal person for an equal amount of time. I base the better part of my spirituality off of what animals have taught me. I believe many things are possible, I believe that no religion can be stronger than that of the faith you carry within yourself, of yourself. I believe that all souls gather in a place of love regardless of religion or non religion. The only requirement being that you have done your best to be a good person. I believe we all gather in the same spot only when our work is done.

I believe that this ultimate gathering spot has no requirements or rules for love, only that it's true and real and selfless. I believe that our expectations for life after death will be blown to pieces with a new form of being, of knowing, that we ourselves cannot comprehend as mere humans. I believe in it's vastness, if we were to grasp what life after death truly is, we would not have the mental ability to handle the beauty and love that we saw. This could quite possibly be the reason we are only allowed glimpses, and not the full picture, before our time is through.

In my profession, I see death more frequently than I wish but I recognize that it is only my human mind that struggles with the hurt of losing something physical. I work with animals at an alternative / conventional small animal veterinary facility. Because I believe death can be the most spiritual and deep part of one's life, I involve myself in every hospice care situation I can get my hands on. I do this to ensure the animals I care for, feel as good as they can, for a long as they can and that their passing is as peaceful as it should be.

Thanks to my knowledge of medicine and great concern / care for the innocent and ill, I knew what to watch for, I knew what to expect when I was about to embark on losing my grandmother.

Her passing was my first, closely connected human death, and it was a beautiful mess.  

First Thoughts - A Year Later. Better late than never.

The momentum, anxiety, and speed of centripetal force that envelopes your body during a final conversation with a loved one, will always remain immeasurable.

If you're lucky enough to feel it, if you're connected enough to hold it within you, it will forever reshape you.