Posts Tagged ‘Love’
Send Love
Over the weekend we learned of friends whose long-term relationship is in crisis. As disorienting as it certainly is for them, Cyndie and I were knocked for a loop ourselves. It quickly became the focus of our thoughts. We wanted to help in any way possible, but beyond offering unconditional support, we cannot solve their problems for them.
That doesn’t prevent us from wishing that we could.
We’ve been there. We know that life on the resolution side of dealing with crises holds potential for innumerable possibilities. To get there, the path requires dealing with the darkness and trauma of immediate difficulties, while simultaneously allowing space for the manifestation of yet-to-be-imagined better outcomes to be had.
It is a matter of maintaining an understanding that the most trying challenges are not as all-encompassing as they can seem in the moment. The emotions we experience are very real, and though powerful they may be, emotions simply hold information to help us find our way. They do not constrain all aspects of the matter at hand.
The reality of situations is not limited to the way we are feeling in any given moment.
We have to heal ourselves and we have to heal our relationships. It may be hard to accept, but there is a gift to be claimed in the wounds that we experience.
We cannot do the healing for others, but we can hold them in our thoughts and send them love.
Cyndie and I are doing just that with great conviction today.
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Early Attention
It may not be 4 a.m., but it always feels like it when Pequenita, our cat, decides she has had enough with our being asleep and tromps on us before daylight is visible, kneading and purring, as if being cute and sweet will offset the annoyance of unwanted attention at such an early hour.
She puts her face in mine and tries a few head butts to make sure I know she’s there, but I practice the art of remaining comatose to convey to her that my sleep is not to be interrupted. It is the kneading with those front claws that I am forced to react to if the covers don’t sufficiently cover my sensitive skin.
Some mornings she decides to settle back down and join me in continued slumber, unbeknownst to me since I was practicing being comatose, and I will suddenly fling her off the bed unintentionally when moments later I realize my bladder can’t wait until sunrise for relief.
I am surprised by the amount of abuse she tolerates from me, continuing to lay and sleep at my feet as I jostle her rudely while moving my legs in search of a position my body will accept as sleep-worthy at the beginning of the night. Maybe it is because she knows she will have her vengeance in the wee hours of the following morning.
It is not entirely unlike the relationship of a mother and her child, though it was not my original intention to write all that as a segue to get to acknowledgement of all mothers and their loving sacrifices on this Mother’s Day in the US. Yet, even the title I chose for today’s post, before starting the first paragraph, could be interpreted as an homage to that which all mothers give.
Our kids are grown and gone, but with our dog and cat, we have accomplished a way to feel as though we are still parenting infants, just ones that never grow up.
Happy Mother’s Day all you moms!
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On Fatherhood
Each morning, after I have finished tending to the horse chores, Delilah and I go for a walk around the circumference of our property boundaries. Lately, I have noticed this time is becoming a particularly fruitful one for inspiration and insights.
Yesterday I was thinking about fatherhood. My children are both grown and living their own lives at this point, so I am well beyond the day-to-day responsibilities of raising them. We are now in a phase that I hadn’t really given any thought to: being a father to adult children.
It occurred to me that when I was the age that they are now, my father had been dead for about 4 years. I was 22 when my father died. I don’t have the benefit of having had a relationship with my dad while in my adult years that I can use to inform and guide my decisions as a father from this point forward.
I suppose that could be seen as a feature instead of a flaw, in some regards. However, I’m finding that not having had my father alive for most of my adult life has me now feeling somewhat unschooled about what comes next. I’m sure that the manual that comes with each kid would have provided answers for any questions I had from here on out, if it had been included at the time of delivery.
Thinking back, the only type of feedback I recall receiving from my father during the time our lives overlapped involved indirect grumpiness and griping. If it came at all, direct praise or reprimand was rare enough that I hold few recollections of them. He was not one to tell me he loved me. That level of connection needed to be assumed. We did the best we could with it.
I definitely love my kids and am able to tell them so, though doing it still doesn’t come naturally for me. At this point, I don’t really know how to say or do much more than that, from within the role of being their father. After they left the nest, they became more like friends for me than people whose lives I direct.
Luckily, they are great to have as friends. From here on out, when the time comes for something more than friendly advice from me, I’ll be winging it; hoping to be the father I would like to have had as an adult.
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Horse Talk
There aren’t a lot of people who gush over their dental care team, but I can’t help myself. I went for my regular 6-month check up and cleaning appointment yesterday and as always, had such a great experience that I wish I didn’t need to wait 6 more months for the next one.
Early in the exchange of pleasantries with the hygienist I was meeting for the first time, I revealed that I care for 4 horses. Soon, horses became the main theme of our staccato conversation, carried out in the brief pauses between my mouth being filled with hands and dental tools.
She told me about wild horses that still roam the outer banks of North Carolina. She briefly visited the area to attend a wedding, and never got a chance to see those horses. It would be an awesome sight to see wild horses running along the shoreline.
I shared bits of my brief history with horses and received a response of such amazement that it caused me to see anew the remarkable story I’ve been living for the last few years. Since I have heard myself tell this tale over and over, it can seem a little worn out with each new telling. It is refreshing when it evokes an impassioned response of awe and appreciation.
It helps me to stay present in the thrill and wonder of a precious experience that every day grows more routine for me.
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Who Cares?
Life is pretty great when it involves staying home everyday and taking care of our animals, but there is no denying a sense of isolation that shows up on occasion. My world is horses, a dog, and occasionally a cat. Currently it is also snow and snow plowing, wood splitting, and walking our snow-packed trails. It is pretty idyllic.
I scan news headlines and feel far removed from everything I see. Issues like the struggles in Syria and Ukraine, Islamic State terrorists, Boko Haram mass kidnappings, epic snow storms in and around Boston, measles outbreaks, and million dollar lottery jackpots. If any ripples from the daily top news events are making it to the middle of our country onto our precious property, they are so dampened that I cannot detect them.
I live in the luxury of not needing to notice. At the same time, I can’t help being influenced by struggles in other places. Closer to home, there are ongoing difficulties that family and friends face which have some measure of influence on my psyche. That is something that I can more tangibly grasp and contribute my thoughts of love toward.
Most difficult for me is when the person I am closest to is heavily burdened by the ongoing challenges of her professional responsibilities. I think that is my Kryptonite.
One of my defense mechanisms for dealing with all the world’s ills is to not care. It seems like a poor choice of reaction, but it is a superficial method of saving myself. Deep down, I really do care, and am moved by the suffering of fellow human beings. What I mean by superficially not caring is that I move past the tough news without dwelling too long on any one issue.
When I have the strength to do battle for people or causes, I become active in those with which I am connected and which are within my reach to help. As a person living with depressive tendencies, I need to pay attention to maintain a healthy balance in my “reason to live” file. Feeling like you can do nothing to help others in this world is a dangerous mindset to allow. Even if my only contribution ends up being that I send love out into the world, that is significant for me. It reflects that I am healthy enough to make that choice.
A depressed person generally wouldn’t be so inclined.
Who cares? I do. Really, I do. Even if I pretend that I don’t.
I’m sending love.
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Still Winter
Our general region has had it pretty easy as far as weather goes this winter, especially as compared to the heavy snowfall events that have occurred in the northeast of the US. We’ve had less snow and warmer temperatures than usual. But the past doesn’t define the future. It’s still winter, and yesterday we enjoyed a return of both snow and cold.
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With the temps low, the snow crystals were perfect and we received about 2 inches of wonderful powder snow that came floating down in a windless calm. The woods took on a mystical appearance with snow cradled in every “Y” of all the branches.
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As is typical for our horses, they stood out in the middle of the hay-field during the heaviest snowfall. I coaxed them back under the overhang by bringing some loose hay and putting it on top of the slow-feeder grates. It probably would have been wise to put their blankets on prior to the snow, but they aren’t showing any signs of having a problem with the relatively small amount of precipitation.
Poor Cyndie had to endure a prolonged evening commute as a result of the backed up traffic, but that gave me a chance to get the driveway plowed before she got home. Since the snow was dry and light, that chore was a breeze.
I was walking Delilah when I decided the precipitation had slowed enough to justify some shoveling and plowing. She sat calmly while I shoveled the front steps, walkway, and apron in front of the garage doors. Then she began to demonstrate an interest in moving on. I willingly accommodated her since it was already past her usual dinner time, setting the shovel down to head indoors.
I still wanted to get to the plowing, so I left my jacket on and rushed to put food in her bowl, before heading back out. I figured she should be fine on her own while I worked.
When I opened the door 45-minutes later, I found her laying right inside of it. She looked uncharacteristically subdued. Then I noticed food in her bowl. That is an anomaly. I worried that something was wrong with her and bent down to give her some love and attention. As I stood up to remove my outdoor gear, she got up and walked over to eat everything in her bowl.
To my great surprise, she chose to wait by the door for my return rather than eat her food! I had no idea. It does add meaning to a behavior I have noticed during our routine of coming in the door after a walk. I make her wait in the entryway with me while I remove her leash harness and blaze-orange vest. Then I tell her, “Okay,” as a release to run off and do whatever is tempting her more: chase Pequenita the cat or madly chomp on any available squeaky toy.
I’ve noticed that she doesn’t run off until she sees me taking off enough outdoor wear to feel satisfied I will be staying inside along with her.
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Precious Affirmation
On Wednesday, after Cyndie arrived home from a challenging day of work, she stepped in the door and thanked me for sending love to her while she was on the job.
“What love?” I responded.
I was asking because I hadn’t told her I was going to send love, hadn’t sent a text indicating I had done so, nor offered any other form of communication beyond the love, itself. But I very purposely did send her love during the day. Thankfully, she was perceptive enough to sense my transmission.
Either that is an example of how in tune we can be with each other sometimes, or it is a testament to the power of projecting love out into the universe with purposeful intent. Maybe it is both.
It helps that we practice listening to our intuition and paying attention to our gut sense and our heart messages. Of course, those are skills we are honing in on when we are with our horses. It is in the metaphysical realm that horses pick up much of their information. They are quick to pick up on the love we send their way.
While driving through the countryside on Tuesday, I happened to pass a property that had a lot of horses. A LOT of horses. Maybe 30 or more. They were crowded into a couple of paddocks between the busy highway and a barn. The primary thing I noticed about them was their defeated appearance.
Is it possible they were all napping? I doubt it. They all looked like their spirit had been broken. It instantly caused me to feel a renewed appreciation for the facility and environment we are able to offer our 4 horses.
The place I was driving past was obviously a horse business of some kind. Probably offered trail rides and boarding. I wondered how that many horses could get along with each other in such limited space. Actually, it looked like the horses just didn’t care enough to fuss with each other.
In a moment of being all too human, I began to think poorly of the people who put the horses in that situation. The truth is, I don’t know anything about them or their operation. I caught myself and chose a different response.
I sent the horses and the owners love.
I wonder if they felt it. My gut tells me the horses did.
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Think Happy
It is a new year. 2015 sounds like the future. Did I really live into the year 2015? Hmmm. How did that happen? The niece and nephew were telling us that 2015 is the year in the movie, “Back to the Future Part II” that they travel forward to. Well, that future is now.
Let’s make it a great year. Project love to everyone around you, everyone you know, everyone you think of. Let love be the energy you emanate to the world at all times. It makes a difference. Really. Try it.
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Happy New Year 2015!
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Sibling Revelry
Despite a sloppy wintry mix of precipitation doing its best to dampen our spirits (sorry ’bout the pun), the gathering of Hays relatives was a joy and a half. As always happens to me at family gatherings of limited duration, the riches of access to siblings I grew up with is enticing, but the reality of our usual chaos leaves me wishing there was more time. It is hard to finish a story, and sometimes a single sentence, without interruption. My attention is too often wrenched away from the person I was listening to, and time flies by so fast, the hour of departure comes up way too soon.
Regardless, every moment was precious. Reconnecting after long periods of separation, with siblings who share so many tendencies and characteristics, is refreshing and invigorating. I tend to feel a kind of validation of who I am, discovering the brothers and sisters that I grew up with remain so similar in behavior and perspectives. I am among my people again.
I’m lucky that, as a family, we all get along. These are the people who inhabited Intervale Ranch with me from the day I was born until 9 years later, when our family moved out and the property was razed for development into an industrial park.
With technical assistance from my son, Julian, I was able to display a digitized version of a slide show I put together close to 30 years ago, which featured that old farm property. It provided an opportunity to exercise our memories, as we analyzed some of the images and compared recollections.
Meanwhile, there was non-stop food to be consumed, youngsters to get reacquainted with and entertained by, and horses to visit. Unfortunately, that last part with the horses was complicated by the weather conditions. They have been a little jumpy the last two days. I’m thinking there may have been some coyote activity in the area. That jumpiness was then compounded by wet precipitation which brought them to shivers.
As the bulk of our visitors wandered down to greet the herd, the attention suddenly needed to be redirected to preparing the stalls and moving the cold, wet horses inside. At least people were able to witness the process as it happened, and see the horses enjoy the reward of coming in to warm up and dry out.
Delilah was pretty excited to have so many visitors, but eventually adjusted to the clamor of all the conversations and quietly laid in front of the fireplace. She seemed more than happy to accept cuddles from Reese, one of the older grandchildren present.
It’s nice to see the kids doing well with our animals, because we see them as potential ranch hands in the years ahead. When their parents eventually start thinking about sending them off to some camp for the summer, we can put in a pitch for the valuable experience they could gain here, doing chores at Wintervale. Seems like a win-win.
Cyndie and I express our extreme appreciation to all the family members who made the trip through messy weather to bring our place to life with their love and energy. Here’s hoping we don’t let too much time pass before the next Hays family gathering materializes!
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Relative Something 