What A Difference A Year Makes

What a difference a year makes. Do you ever take a moment to think about what you’ve done in the last twelve months? How far you’ve come, how much you’ve grown, what you’ve accomplished? I don’t mean necessarily on New Year’s Day, I mean some other demarcation in the year, a date that’s meaningful to you. There are a couple big days for me right now that I use as measurements for progress. One date is April 11, 2016. That is the day that my sweet German Shepherd succumbed, quite traumatically, to a brain tumor in our home. Another is September 26th, 2015, the date I started this blog. My very first blog.

The blog anniversary turned out to be quite a milestone for me. When I started, I didn’t know what this would look like, if anyone would even want to read my musings and opinions and funny (ridiculous?) stories. But you did. And it has been amazing. Every comment about how I made someone laugh, encouraged them, made them feel supported along their own path, has been the drive to keep me going. They have been the breadcrumbs I needed to keep me moving down a path. A path I enjoy being on but can’t see where exactly it is going.

In the year since I started in earnest to finish my book, I hit a few special peaks. I finished the manuscript for my book in January. I also secured a monthly online column with Northwest Horse Source. God willing, I should also have a horse related article coming out in a national publication in the next few months. When it happens, I promise to share, but right now I’m afraid to jinx it and so don’t want to say what magazine or what the article is about. I also found an affordable editor to help me take my novel to the next level.

Looking back at these things keeps me putting one foot in front of the other. I still sometimes shake my head at myself, at the idea of writing a book. It takes guts to have a BIG dream. You have got to ignore the people who might be so insecure themselves that they question why you should dream and do such a thing. And even more important, you MUST ignore that little troll inside your own head that makes you question what you’re doing, why you’re doing it and even if you can do it. No matter what it is. I have to work at having guts even a year after starting this blog. Even after finishing my manuscript and finding an editor. I think ignoring the troll will be a lifetime activity.

In case you can’t read the inscription, it says” The Oregon Trail branched in Idaho, at Fort Hall. The route south to California was marked by a heap of gold quartz, the one north by a sign lettered, “To Oregon.” Those who could read came here.

One of the things that helps to keep me going are the breadcrumbs I seem to get, pointing me further down the path. Before the blog, before the finished manuscript, there were awkward conversations of admitting my dream to close friends. One close friend told me of a weekend writing workshop in my area. From that workshop I ended up going to a writing conference in Redmond, Oregon for Women Writing the West, last fall. That workshop set me up with enough energy and direction to get the manuscript down on paper.

I sent in my manuscript to an editor this spring. After receiving my marked-up manuscript back from the editor this summer, I sank into a pit of self-loathing and despair. (Ten points if you know what movie the pit of despair is from). A trip to Portland at the beginning of October, and a generous friend waiting around while I disappeared into Powell’s bookstore, reminded me why I had started. So I picked up the marked up copy of my story and started making the changes. Self-pity be damned.


Many people seem to be keeping tabs on the process of me writing a book. I was chatting with a physician who I work with and updating him where I am with the book and my plan for the next 6 months. He looked and me and said “Did I ever tell you my sister owns a literary agency in New York City?”

Me in a louder-than-professional voice, “Uh, no you did not! I think that’s something I would remember!”

He pulled up her website and showed me her amazing brick-and-mortar business front just four blocks from Times Square. I leaned over his desk and asked “How could you not have told me this before?” Still in a not especially professional voice. He laughed and said he thought he had. And then he emailed her while I was standing there and asked her about the status of her literary agents.

Now his sister’s agency is more interested in scripts than novels, and also has agents representing performers. However, the news of this connection was a very large, caffeine-infused breadcrumb. Fortunately, or unfortunately, many things in this world still work according to what connections you have and who you know. My physician friend’s sister may not do anything with my manuscript when it’s finished. But she might be able to connect me with someone who would. Such a connection could help me bypass the email query letters to anonymous agents, thereby also skipping the possibility of my manuscript ending up in a mile-high slush pile to languish for months.


I’m telling you all of this for a couple reasons. For one, I thought you might be interested to know how my little (big!) project is progressing. But more broadly, I hope you can take this as something to think about in your own life. That you can see that those breadcrumbs that keep turning up are encouraging you to follow your own path. (Do you have a story that this makes you think: “Yes! That’s exactly what happened  to me!” Tell me about it. I love hearing others’ stories) I don’t know what my destination is, but when I see these little positive arrows pointing me forward, I believe they are messages not to quit.

And as for the dog-iversary, I can’t believe it’s been six months since his passing. I no longer wake up looking for his dark figure lying next to the bed. I am hopeful that wherever his spirit is, he can help guide the next puppy into our home and hearts. Preferably one who doesn’t snack on small dogs and pieces of my house. That’s not too much to ask, right?

Rest In Peace good buddy.

Share This:

Horsewomen Are The Best Women (4 Things To Know About Dating One)

As I was washing my horse’s tail a few days ago I was thinking about how I was out of conditioner and considered taking my horse’s conditioner home to tide me over until payday. I had to chuckle. I wondered if my husband had any idea what he was getting into when we bought Gangster. If he really knew what it meant to date a woman in love with horses. To date an equestrian, horsewoman, cowgirl, whichever is your preferred term.  Here are four things I’m pretty sure he never anticipated when dating (and deciding to marry) a horsewoman. I may not have owned a horse when we met, but once a horsewoman, always a horsewoman.

The very first horsewoman I ever knew: my mom. She is the reason I have the love of horses I do. Never formally trained, she brought up horses and rode them as a young girl and teenager, most commonly riding bareback. To this day she gives me equine advice, which I dismiss (I’m sure her to her great frustration) which always turns out to be true. We were eating lunch during a trail ride in this photo. She’s not wearing shoes because she just got done soaking her feet in the river.
  1. Horsewomen are resourceful. You may notice things that belong in the barn creep into the house. In the winter you can expect that, from time to time, a blanket will make its way inside to dry after getting soaked from a sudden downpour or blizzard.  Also, unless you as the significant other, have set the rule that horse blankets are not to be laundered in the regular washing machine, then you can expect blankets will find their way into your washing machine. Imagine all that sweat and mud and urine and manure rinsing off the blankets and down the drain. Well, mostly going down the drain. Kind of a gross thought, huh? As much as I feel like I am betraying my equestrian sisterhood, the rule against home laundering of horse blankets should probably be put in place. You might also notice other tack items migrating into the house. The warm (or air conditioned) house is always so much more comfortable than the cold-as-the-great-white-north (or hot-as-blazes) barn when it comes to oiling a saddle. Or five. Sub point here, even though your horsewoman may only have one horse, she will have multiple saddles. And many, many, bridles. It’s just the way it is. Don’t try to argue about how she should sell a couple of the saddles. If she has more than one horse, there will always be more saddles and bridles than horses.  And of course, like I said, don’t be surprised when the horse conditioner (or shampoo) makes its way onto your shower shelf.

    Cowgirl Wrangling Horses
    One of the wranglers at The Darwin Guest Ranch, one of the ranches where we stayed during our vacation.
  2. Horsewomen are particular. A boot is not just a boot. And only one kind of boot would never do. Working with horses requires multiple types of boots. We need muck boots that can get wet and muddy and can trek through the back quagmire to retrieve the damn naughty pony without getting our socks wet. But we also need regular cowboy boots for everyday riding and working our horses. And then of course there are the boots we need for showing. We can’t use the regular old working boots for showing. And if we are showing in different disciplines, then we’ll need multiple types of show boots. Plus there are the everyday running-errands boots. And the more fashion-focused boots to wear to the office, if your horsewoman works in one. What can I say, we need boots. Lots of them. Just buy us boots, we’ll always be happy with that gift. In fact, don’t buy flowers. Buy boots. Just make sure you know which brand your horsewoman likes.

    You can never have too many boots.
  3. Horsewomen are small girls in love with horses trapped in adult women’s bodies. And with actual wallets that occasionally have money in them. So you can expect that we will be drawn to any history or activity centered around horses. True horsewomen appreciate the species in all it’s glorious and celebrated capacities. While on vacation, is there a horse drawn carriage, rodeo, or ride on the beach anywhere within a 30 mile radius? You can find us lingering at the information booth wondering how much it costs and assessing how well the horses are taken care of. (We will not fork over the cash if we deem the horses poorly treated, underfed or otherwise sad looking). The activity might not even cost money. Sometimes it’s just a photo op. Like taking photos with New York City’s finest: the mounted police.

    Look at the excitement on my face. I was so excited to be in New York and to get my picture taken with the mounted police. And damn if those officers could not look away from their phones for 10 seconds. But even still, they couldn’t dampen my joy.
  4. Horsewomen are passionate. For us, it’s not “just a horse.” And you would do well to never utter those words. Lest you want to see a particularly bitchy (okay, bitchier) side of us. Our horses are our best friends, our therapy, our gym, our challenge and joy and frustration. Our horses are like family. We want to talk about our horses all the time because it’s our passion and life-love and makes us joyful in the depths of our soul. You don’t have to “get it,” you just have to accept it and not mock it. Better yet, support it. I can assure you, we are much happier people having horses in our lives. Despite what we may say after a particularly bad ride, or a high vet bill, or an especially grumpy barn mate. We would never trade in horse ownership for a little more money or a tidier house. Owning and caring for horses is too much work to be for the faint of heart. Only those with the strongest of desire will stick with it. You can count on that passion overflowing into other areas of our lives. We may be opinionated and bossy and stubborn. These are not bad qualities (despite what some people may have us believe). These are the qualities that make leaders, business owners and damn fine human beings.

    Cowgirl Wrangler
    Miss V, the Gypsy Cowbelle. Another wrangler at the Darwin Ranch. You can follow her musical and western exploits at www.gypsycowbelle.com

Also, if you find yourself dating, or married to a horsewoman, you should know that you will be asked to go to the barn for one reason or another, usually exactly when you absolutely do not want to go to the barn. Like in the middle of a football game. If it’s just to help with chores, you might be able to negotiate your way out of it. If it’s to watch her and be supportive of her during a horseshow, just go. That football game no longer exists. Also, prepare yourself for the fact that she will never have money to buy you dinner because she spent it all on her horse. But her company will always more than make up for it. And lastly, if you have a truck and she doesn’t, please know that regular use of your truck will be an expected part of the relationship arrangement.

But horsewomen are some of the best women. They are wild and free and bold and outspoken. They are eternal dreamers and still believe in the magical, mystical ways of nature. We’re all just trying to harness a bit of that freedom that horses represent, and hold it in our souls.

What are some of the things you have noticed?

Don’t miss out on any of the fun! Follow me on Facebook.

Photo courtesy of Chris T. Sloan

Share This:

I Went To Yellowstone National Park & All I Got Were These Stupid Pictures

My husband and I recently took a glorious two week road trip through Wyoming. We stopped in Idaho on the way over to stay with friends and then continued on to the ranch where my husband used to work. The ranch is in the Gros Ventre wilderness area (French for Big Belly and pronounced “Grow Vont”) and requires about an hour long drive down a gravel national forest road in order to get to the ranch. We spent a few nights at that ranch and then proceeded on to Yellowstone National Park.

I fully intend to do a more indepth review of the ranches we stayed at during our trip, but I really wanted to post these special photos. I love, love, LOVE taking photos of animals, and Wyoming did not disappoint.

If you’ve never had the chance to visit Yellowstone, put it on your bucket list. It’s not to be missed. The first established US national park (thanks Teddy Roosevelt), the thermal features and wildlife are something to behold. I’m not big on crowds, so if you aren’t either, I recommend taking in the sights early in the day and hitting a month that’s less popular with tourists (think May or October). We love heading to Wyoming in September and could not believe the number of people still populating our favorite haunts. We found out that September has become the second busiest tourist month for Jackson Hole/Yellowstone as the retirees wait until school resumes and then come out in force for their own vacations.

Without further ado, here are my favorite photos from the trip. Feel free to share these, I don’t mind. Bring a little joy and nature to someone’s day. I just ask that you leave my signature (yes, the shameless web address) in the photo.

Thanks for looking!

One of the pack mules waiting patiently for his load. The red cliff in the distance is Sportsman’s ridge. There is a trail that follows the edge of the cliff which we have ridden. Correction, my husband rode it. I walked it. Heights and cliffs make me nervous.
The pack string horse’s waiting for their pack saddles to be loaded up.
This sweet donkey followed me around. And chased our dog around.
The remuda with Sportsman’s Ridge in the background.
Oh what a sweet cow moose! She was so happy eating her lunch. She was in Wilson outside of Jackson Hole.
I love this one because she looks so happy!
Her friend wasn’t too far away, standing in the Snake River near Wilson, Wyoming. I could have hung out and watched them eat all day.
This handsome guy was working hard to keep all his ladies together. He was near Yellowstone Lake in East Yellowstone.
I worked so hard for this photo! Taken from a raft on the Snake River, I was working hard to keep my camera steady with all the bobbing of the raft. Love seeing these beautiful birds.


Elk herd near Yellowstone Lake.
Can you spot the little creature? Taking photos while it’s actively snowing, your subject is moving and laying across two laps is a little challenging. This was the best photo I could capture. We watched the coyote hunt, and catch, three little critters.
Partway through our morning Yellowstone nature tour it started snowing. And the higher we got in elevation, the more serious it got. I love these three each heading in their own direction.
I think this photo looks dreamy. The snow was really getting going.
This photo was taken on the road out the East entrance of Yellowstone. The road between the east entrance and Cody, Wyoming is one of the most beautiful. Rugged rocky country that I could photograph at every turn.
A mama moose and her calf casually walking along the snake river. As fast as I snapped this photo and kept floating down the river, they disappeared into the willows. The willows are so tall and dense, they could be just a few feet in but invisible to us.


This old barn was out on Mormon Row, north of Jackson Hole. I loved the crow surveying the scene.


My absolute favorite photo of the bison in Yellowstone. Look at that eye. There’s a spirit behind that eye, a whole world that we know nothing of.
Just a bison, looking around at his cold-ass field.
Even blue herons get the blues.
The elk were bugling and it was a sound that could make you shiver. Pretty incredible.
Trumpeter swans. Apparently the park only has about 20 resident swans, and we managed to see 6 of them. I only managed to photograph four of them, however.
The famous T.A. Moulton Barn that you see so very, very, many photos of. The barn is on Mormon Row off Antelope Flats Drive north of Jackson Hole.
One of my favorite photos. The stud is on the left. Although bulls and cows are born in equal numbers in the park, only about 20% of Yellowstone’s elk population is made up of the bulls. That’s because they spend all season keeping their herd of ladies together and fending off other suitors. They starve themselves for love. Or the effort of propagation of their progeny really. But suffering for love sounds more romantic.
Another hansom boy keeping watch over his lady friends.
Bison crossing. They are so massive, they just lumber through, impervious to the annoying tourists (talking about myself here) snapping endless photos.
Doesn’t he just look like he’s thinking, “Oh, there’s that snap happy tourist again. Sigh. Just trying to get some lunch, lady.”


This young buck has red antlers because he’s been rubbing his velvet off. He was still rubbing them on trees and such while we were watching him. But, amateur that I am, couldn’t manage a clear photo of the antler-on-tree action.
Beautiful deer in fall foliage. Pretty sure that’s Bambi’s mom right there.
One more blue heron shot. Love the warmth of this photo. This was taken near West Yellowstone, along the water. Everyone was taking photos of elk across the river, while he just hung out, right under our noses.

Thanks for checking out my photos. Let me know if you have any questions!

If you don’t already follow me on Facebook, go like my page. Go do it now. I’ll wait.

Share This:

I Failed! And Lived To Tell About It.

You know that Garth Brooks song “Unanswered Prayers?” If you haven’t heard of it, I’m going to assume you’re not a country music fan. Which is fine. Except that Garth Brooks is an amazing musical talent everyone should recognize regardless of their preferred genre, but I digress. The essence of the song is that something that was so desperately wished and prayed for in the past, which did not come to fruition, turned out to be a blessing not to have happened.

There is something in my life that for a long time I’ve considered a failure. I went to school for Human Physiology, always with the intention of doing something in medicine. The plan was initially to become a physician assistant (PA), then I set my sights on medical school to become an MD, then returned to the idea of becoming a PA. After I graduated with my bachelor’s degree I returned to school for more courses to meet all of the pre-requisites to apply to graduate programs. At the time I applied to PA programs, the recession was in full downturn and masses of talented but jobless people returned to academia. I was applying to programs with only 35 available spots alongside 2000 other applicants. When you have that many applicants, the weed-out process becomes about the numbers. And my numbers weren’t that impressive. My GPA was good, but not impressive. My work and volunteer experiences were good, but again, not impressive. I was not accepted.

Adding to the disappointment, the human anatomy and physiology classes I took  were now “expired” as I needed to have attended them within 5 years of getting into a program. I had just passed the 5 year mark. Meaning that if I wanted to re-apply to programs the next year, I would need to retake the equivalent of 4 classes for two terms each and pay cold, hard, cash (no loans). I didn’t have the money. And even more importantly, I didn’t have the drive. I was tired. I was disappointed. I felt terrible that I hadn’t been accepted to a program. The only thing that softened the blow of repeat rejection letters was that I had a little health-scare at the exact same time. The health-scare ended up being nothing and I was thankful to be healthy. If I had to pick between getting into a PA program or being healthy, I knew healthy was the way to go. Every time.

Failure Isn't Fatal
Random sunny photo for inspiration. Taken on my aunt-in-law’s property in Texas.

But for years I felt bad about this chapter. I said I would consider re-applying, but I wanted time to rest. It’s been 5 years and I never reapplied. I work in healthcare, I make less money than I would as a brand new PA grad coming out of school. But I also don’t have another $100K of student loan debt. My view of that “failure” has also shifted in the last few years. For a long time I was embarrassed that I didn’t get in. I didn’t even tell people I applied and that had been my life plan. I came up with a quick and positive answer when people who did know  inquired about school, in order to answer their question and move the conversation along. Lest I reveal how disappointed I really felt.

But now, I look back, and I am so thankful that my path took the unexpected turn it did. I am not where I thought I would be, but I’m going somewhere that I want to go. Had I gone to PA school, it is unlikely I would be editing my book. There likely wouldn’t even be a book. And the blog would for sure not exist. I probably wouldn’t even own a horse. That is how massive a shift in my path I believe not attending a graduate program had on my life. I might have owned a horse someday, but seeing how much medical providers work, and the emotional toll their work takes, it’s unlikely that even if I had the money to buy a horse, that I would have had the emotional energy to own and care for one.

I probably won’t work in healthcare forever. Especially if you all buy my book and I become a best-selling author. (Seriously though, you’re going to buy it right? Just out of sheer, blind support?) Joking aside, my writing, the blogging, has reminded me of just how many possibilities exist in the world. There’s no reason that I couldn’t continue to use my knowledge and love for physiology in assisting riders, or equine wellness, or any number of avenues.

Life isn’t a Pinterest quote. Sometimes the goals you set turn out to be the catalyst for a journey, and the destination is far different than you originally understood. The changes in the journey don’t have to mean failure. As long as you’re working toward something that you love, you’re on the right path. Allow the universe, God, whatever your belief, to expand your creativity.

Changes in the journey don't mean failure

I distinctly remember that at the same time I was applying for PA programs, there was an opportunity for me to manage a clinical research department. I immediately dismissed the idea when a few people came to me to discuss it. The joke was on me. Eighteen months later, I had all my rejection letters stuffed in a drawer and a corner office managing the clinical research department. I can’t explain it, that’s just the way it was meant to unfold. And I recall marveling at the time at who incredibly close-minded I had been about the whole thing.

No excuses. Goals, ambitions, dreams, they all take work. One setback, even ten setbacks, is not a reason to give up and say “it wasn’t meant to be”. But those challenges are points at which you should look at where you’re headed, the feasibility of what you’re doing, and if the things that are out of your control are guiding you in a different direction.

Surely there’s at least one other person out there like me, who looks back at a little painful point and thinks they could have (should have!) done better/worked harder/muscled through. If you’re still beating yourself up, stop. The work to be done is in the future. Like the Pinterest quote says “Don’t look back. You’re not going that way.”

What “failure” have you endured that you’re now so thankful happened?

Want to read more or catch the occasional funny drawing or update? Follow me on Facebook

I survived Failure A blessing in disguise

Share This:

Unbridled Desire: How To Spend Your Next Paycheck

It’s getting to be back-to-school time. Some of you may have even already sent your kids off for their first day. This time always reminds me of new clothes, the smell of fresh paper in spiral notebooks and hope for a new year (will my social standing elevate above dorky horse lover???… Spoiler alert, it never did).

Anyway, because of my annual new school shopping binges on behalf of my parents and generous aunt, I also associate this time with doing a massive acquisition of new stuff. Buy all the things. Everything new.

It turns out as an adult, annual shopping binges (who am I kidding, quarterly binges) coupled with the constant financial drain of horse ownership does not bode well for one’s finances. So instead, let me tell you how to spend your money on horsey must-haves and I’ll just sit here and enjoy the millennial version of window shopping: scrolling through all the things I can’t afford.

First up: stickers! Stickers for all! And they’re cheap enough you can buy a set to never use. I know I’m not the only one who struggled with the desire to give my friend a unicorn sticker but also really didn’t want to give it away. Stickers you say? As an adult? Hell yes. They make adult coloring books, why not adult stickers?

Galloping Graphics Sticker on Hat Box
Love my Galloping Graphics stickers, they even take abuse pretty well.

Here’s how I like to use mine. 1. To identify my hatbox amongst the other 20 hatboxes at horse shows. 2. To identify my water bottle against the 20 others at horseshows. 3. On my tack trunk. 4. On my computer. I could keep going with this, the possibilities are endless. I don’t recommend you add one to your husband’s rifle case, though. He did not find it amusing.

Galloping Graphics Read Books Ride Horses Sticker on Rifle Case

Next up, brushes. How old are those brushes you’re using? I feel like we just accept brushes as being dirty and worn out and we never replace them. My lack of replacing mine has to do with guilt around “If it’s not broke, don’t fix it.” But what if I told you, you could buy beautiful, luxurious, custom marked brushes that made you look like the Town and Country equestrian of your dreams? I know the ranching gals are rolling their eyes right now, but just stay with me. Everyone likes beautiful things. So why not put your grooming supplies in the way of beauty with these little cuties?

The Artful Equine Single Brushes: The Grooming Brush
For realsies though, why would you NOT want these beautiful, custom pieces?

I started out slow, stickers and brushes aren’t really going to break the bank, but we’re getting bigger. Ariat just came out with a tennis shoe line called Fuse. At first I was thinking, “What the hell Ariat?” Followed immediately by “THEY MUST BE MINE!”

I’m a sucker for teal. I’m also a sucker for animal print. So those teal leopard shoes? Need them! Plus Ariat are the only boots I ever wear, they are always incredibly comfortable and durable. Ignoring, of course, that one time Connor chewed a chunk out of the top of one of my boots. So I want to believe these tennis shoes would be comfy and good quality in addition to being adorable. Someone buy a pair and let me know how you like them . Or buy me a pair and I’ll let you know how I like them. Anyone? No? No takers? A girl can try.

Ariat Fuse
be still my teal loving heart.

Speaking of Ariat, I’m a huge fan of their shirts. Whether you ride western, English, hunt seat, dressage, whatever, they have something for everyone. I’m obviously drawn more to the western items. I’m very thankful my discipline doesn’t have my in skin-tight flesh-toned breeches. That is just not a flattering look for me. In addition to having a healthy backside that I’m happy not to put in breeches, I also have a pretty long torso (I’m 5’10”) so finding shirts that are long enough can be a challenge. Ariat really comes through for me. Their shirts are long. Long enough to tuck in, sit on my horse, and still stay tucked in. So when you’re doing a little back-to-school binge shopping (no judgement from me if you’re not actually going to school or sending a kid back to school) you should definitely check out their shirts and pick up a few. Fun fact, the name Ariat is actually borrowed from the name SecretARIAT… get it? I see what they did there. Very clever.

Farah Snap Shirt
Currently crushing on this sweet, feminine little number. Hard to tell from the photo but the little flowers are red and white.

One other shirt brand I’m currently obsessed with: Barn Fly Trading. Their creamy cotton shirts are so soft and light and are perfect for layering. They have funky stamped patterns and are also a little longer. Although not quite as long as Ariat, I leave my Barn Fly shirts untucked.

Barn Fly Trading Western Shirt
At the rodeo with my husband in my favorite Barn Fly Trading shirt layered over a blue gingham check shirt. I like mixing patterns on occasion.
Green Buffalo Barn Fly Trading Shirt
Currently coveting this Barn Fly Trading shirt. I have a birthday coming up if anyone is wondering what to get me.

So I’ve got you covered for fun stickers, custom brushes, Ariat shoes and shirts as well as Barn Fly shirts. How bout a little western home décor before I wrap this up?

You might be familiar with Pendleton Woolen Mills as the makers of absolutely transcendent wool blankets. They started with Thomas Kay way back in 1889 in Oregon so obviously I have a little bias toward the company founded in my great state. Their wool blankets are still made in the state of Oregon today and I am fortunate enough to own a beautiful one.

Pendleton Wool Blanket on Bed Western Decor
Look how lovely our blanket looks with the brown, more modern stripes, of our guest bedroom.

Like any great business, the company has expanded their products into other areas of the home: mugs, bath towels, throw pillows, ottomans, chairs. Yes CHAIRS! And Rugs. I don’t care what part of the country you live in or what your personal decorating style, you can always, always, incorporate a Pendleton blanket or rug into your décor. Modern to rustic, Pendleton is a classic. I think I’m going to go order something right now.

Pendleton Wool Blanket Styled in Living Room
The blankets have a reverse color pattern and I like to use this side when keeping the blanket in our living room. We usually end up fighting who gets to snuggle under it while watching TV.
Daltry Pendleton Teal Leather Chair
Here’s that chair I was telling you about… of course in teal.

What are your horse-related must haves and binge-worthy items? Tell me so I can add them to my Christmas list. Or just go buy them for myself.

Follow me on Facebook so you never miss a post or deep thought. Shallow thoughts also available.

Horsey Must Haves to blow your next paycheck on

Share This:

Kaila Mussell: The Bronc Rider You Have To Get To Know

Some of you may recall that I recently fulfilled a dream as deep as my bones, but one I was really anxious about doing: carrying the American flag for my local rodeo. If you missed it, you can read about it here. Before I figured out how to help myself through the experience, I reached out to Kaila Mussell on Facebook to see if she had any advice. I figured someone as fierce in pursuit of her dreams as she is might have a kernel of wisdom for me. Her advice about positive imagery contributed to my decision to see a hypnotherapist. I was impressed she was so accessible and responsive to my question. I put it out there that if she was interested, I’d love to meet up with her and do a write up about her if she made it down to Oregon or Washington. While her schedule hasn’t brought her that far south this year, we did set up a time to chat over the phone.

I’m not going to lie, I was a little sweaty with nerves right before dialing her up. Here is this total stranger who doesn’t know me from the next anonymous blogger and I’m asking her to help me see glimmers of what makes her tick, makes her drive and serves as such an inspiration for others. But just as she was accessible via Facebook, she was easy to talk to over the phone. Those neighbors to the North are always so delightful (she hails from Chilliwack, British Columbia).

If you are unfamiliar with Kaila, she is the only female saddle bronc rider to compete with men in the professional rodeo circuit since the 1940’s. And she isn’t just competing. She’s won rodeos and continues to win. She won her first rodeo in Prineville, Oregon in 2002. She’s still the only woman yet to earn her card in the PRCA.

But she doesn’t want people to remember her just for being a female bronc rider. Really, her bronc riding is only another adventure in her rich and daring life. She has spent time as a trick rider, a barrel racer and steer rider. To fit one of those things in a lifetime would be enough, but she’s done them all, and continued to up the ante. She admits she’s an adrenaline junky, it just so happens that saddle bronc riding has held her interest the longest, and she hasn’t reached the culmination of her dreams in her bronc riding. She knows there will have to be an end, the injuries and rides can’t go on forever, but she’s not ready to put that bronc saddle away just yet.

When asked about what success looks like for her she spoke about what it used to look like: winning. As a perfectionist she wanted to win, wanted to always have good goes and high scores. Even when she had good rides, she was always looking to the next ride and too critical of herself. In the last five years, which included a broken neck, her idea of success has shifted to be more compassionate toward herself. She takes progress over perfection, and reminds herself that only one third of the ride is in her control, the other two thirds are left to chance: the bronc she pulls and the judges scoring her ride.

So what about that broken neck? The injury happened at a rodeo where she landed on her head and rolled onto the right side of her neck. She walked out of the arena. But at one of her brother’s advice (who is a physician) she made an appointment to get it checked out, by chance at Vancouver General Hospital, the only spinal unit available in all of British Columbia. She fractured her C6 vertebrae in 2 places. She opted to wait and see if the fracture would heal on its own, having already endured other surgeries. It didn’t and her neck was rotating down and forward. She had to have surgery. That was in April of 2014. In October of that year she was released by her physician to do “normal” things. She wasn’t thinking about bronc riding, but horses are a big part of her life and she inquired if “normal” included riding. She got the go ahead, and before long she was wondering about getting back in the bronc saddle. Which she did do, returning to the sport in April of 2015, twelve months after the original injury.

Kaila Mussell Female Bronc Rider

Are you shaking your head and marveling? Yeah, so did other people. Some members of her family even told her she was stupid to go back to the sport. But Kaila doesn’t live her life according to the expectations of others (if you hadn’t gathered that already). She wasn’t done bronc riding and if she was going to quit riding, she wanted to go out on her own terms. And she won’t be giving it up anytime soon, recently winning at the Indian Nationals Finals Rodeo in Morley, Alberta, taking home a buckle and a new bronc saddle. The buckle and saddle she won were put up by the stock contractor in memory of his daughter. The rodeo elders felt that it was fate that she, as a woman, had won the bronc riding. It’s hard to disagree.

So what does someone who has done so much, in the arena and out, have left to fear? You might be surprised to hear she’s just like everyone else and has her doubts about what she’s doing. She worries about not doing well, not performing well, and even the occasional feeling that she isn’t good enough or deserving of participating in the sport. Especially after her neck injury she struggled with depression and anxiety. She put the time into herself and sought counseling, learning to focus on the now, how not to look at the big picture and get overwhelmed. She learned to just take a deep breath, take stock of what she’s accomplished so far, and just keep going. She lets the past go and focuses on the now.

Kaila Mussell Female Saddle Bronc Rider

This is striking to me. I’m not in the rodeo arena risking life and limb to compete, but I am putting myself out there for viewing and appreciation (or judgement) and it can feel intimidating at times. It’s remarkable that worry and anxiety and self-doubt are universal experiences. What a gift for all of us to hear that Kaila struggles with the same challenges and that it’s important to just focus on the now. If it’s fun, if you’re passionate about it, whatever it is, why stop?

I asked Kaila what she thought life looked like for her when the time comes to give up saddle bronc riding. She chuckled and said she’d probably still ride a little, still competing, as long as she can still ride, she’ll keep riding. She wants to continue her work as an equine therapist, perhaps adding more motivational speaking engagements and rodeo school clinics. She’s already doing the speaking engagements and rodeo schools, as her schedule allows, but hopes she can further pursue those interests. I think she has a promising future in both. Her spirit, her drive, her dedication to living her own authentic life, lend themselves well to inspiring others to do the same.

And if you’re lucky enough to have her at a rodeo near you, time permitting, you might even be able to hire her to do some therapy or chiropractic work on your horses. I know I’ll be following her career and look forward what the next 10 years hold for this bold woman. You can follow her journey on Facebook here

Never miss a blog post, humorous thought or photo of barn life, follow me on Facebook!

Kaila Mussell Inspiring Female Bronc Rider

Share This:

5 Tips For Finding Horseback Riding Lessons For Your Child

My brother and his family recently relocated to a new state and my sister-in-law found an equestrian center close to their new home. She wanted to sign my niece up for lessons and asked me what she should look for when seeking out a barn where her daughter could take lessons. I realized this is a topic I get asked about frequently, so wouldn’t you know, I wrote a blog post about it. Go figure. Below are 5 things to consider when looking for horseback riding lessons for your child. Some of the concepts can be applied to seeking lessons for yourself as well, if you’re new to the horse world or just easing back in after some time away (welcome back!).

Finding Horseback Riding Lessons For Children

  1. Figure out what are you looking to accomplish with the lessons. Think about what the goal of this activity is. Is your child relatively inexperienced with horses and just a horse-crazy grade-schooler looking to spend time with horses? Or did your son or daughter see National Velvet and decide he or she wanted to become an Olympic level jumper and has been jumping their stick horse over every downed log they see? Anyone entering lessons should start with the confidence building, when the horses are easy going and reliable and the riding is nothing but fun. However, a trainer who doesn’t venture further than local shows isn’t necessarily going to be the trainer who can help your little rider progress to their Olympic level aspirations (if that’s the case). That’s okay, as long as you are comfortable making the switch in trainers later when your child’s skills have reached the maximum of what the trainer can instill.
  2. Ask the trainer if he or she has worked with kids before, and down to what age and for how long. Children are not just miniature versions of adult equestrians. They are still developing their prefrontal cortex, they have short attention spans and sometimes make terrible decisions. It’s not their fault, they are still learning about the world around them, even into their teen years. A trainer who hasn’t worked much with kids or generally isn’t comfortable with children, is not going to be a good fit as a trainer of your child. They are going to try to apply their training methods that work on adults to children and that is not necessarily an effective teaching strategy. Learning to ride horses is not just about learning the buttons to push on the horse and how to hold one’s body. It’s also about making good decisions when there are other horses and obstacles to consider. A trainer who works well with children has a heightened awareness for the safety horses and riders. An unseasoned trainer may forget to advise the peewee riders about not cutting off other horses or tailgating fellow riders.
  3. Ask the trainer how much they have trained in dressage or jumping or western pleasure or whatever discipline you think you (or your child) are interested in. While there are definitely some basic horsemanship skills that any trainer should be able to impart on their pupils, as you go further and further down the rabbit hole of a specific discipline, there becomes greater and greater minutiae to learn. A trainer who specializes in a particular discipline is going to be able to offer more coaching around all the minutiae of that specific discipline. The hope is that you find a trainer you can stick with for several years. Finding a trainer you can stick with for several years will lend itself to building your riders confidence as well, students become more comfortable with their trainers, to the point of really having an extended barn family. That extended barn family takes time to cultivate, time that can’t be made up if you switch trainers every year or every other year. This ABSOLUTELY applies to adult learners as well!
  4. Once you’ve established where to take lessons, show up to the facility early so you can see lessons being given to other students. There is a trainer I used to see come and go who shouted at her students. I thought she was rude. I believe she thought she was firm and impactful. Either way, what matters is what teaching style you are comfortable with. If you think your child will excel under pressure, then the shouter might be just the right fit. For me, riding and learning new skills atop a 1000 pound animal is already a stressful endeavor, I don’t see the point in making it more stressful with someone shouting directions and criticism at me. (Of course my current trainer’s occasional “Sit your ass back,” admonishment notwithstanding, which I talked about here.)
  5. Accept that horse trainers are not your typical business owners. Their hours do not fall between 9am to 5pm Monday through Friday. Regardless of when your lessons may be scheduled, they work a number of hours outside of giving lessons. They work to train new horses up, they manage websites and show entries and farm equipment and tasks related to horse care like vet visits, farrier visits, hauling hay, barn repair…. I can keep going, but I think you get the picture. The rigidity or fluidity of scheduled lessons will depend on the trainer, but don’t be surprised if the lesson starts a little late or runs a little long. Or even runs a little short. There may be days in which the trainer knows they are pushing the limits of what your rider (or you) can achieve. On those days, it’s better to relieve horse and rider on a high note rather than drilling a maneuver just to get to the 60 minute mark of the lesson. Conversely, there have been days where I’ve had a two hour lesson. I know that flexibility can sometimes be difficult to manage as a parent running from one activity to another, but that’s why I’m giving you the heads up. Everyone will be a lot happier if you can be flexible with the timing of lessons.

Child Horseback Riding Lesson

Do you have any tips as a trainer you wish people would consider when looking for a trainer? Or perhaps live and learn experiences you had as a parent finding lessons for your child, or even for yourself? Whoever you find, whatever the discipline, best of luck, and I hope it continues to be a source of joy. Horseback riding has been one of my longest and most rewarding loves.

Just discovering my blog? Come follow me on Facebook so you never miss a blog post, photo of Gangster or general musing.

Finding Horseback Riding Lessons For Your Child

Share This:

What My Dog’s Death Taught Me About Life

It’s been over three months since our German Shepherd Dog died in our home due to a brain tumor while we helplessly watched and waited for the vet. Three weeks from now will mark the one year anniversary since he had his very first seizure. He made it only 7 short months after that first seizure. But this is not a post about his death, it’s a post about what I’ve allowed his death to teach me in life.

German Shepherd Life Lesson
What a vivacious creature he was. Here he is hunting mice. He would leap up and dive down just like a fox.

The first week after Connor died I reached out to a local woman, Sara Baker of the Pink Pinecone Studio, who made a lot of seasonal décor and who I knew had a formal fine arts education. I asked her if she could make a portrait of Connor, with lots of color and not necessarily a portrait that looked exactly like him, but something that captured his essence. She agreed.

Three days after Connor’s death an out-of-town friend, who had been scheduled to visit for several months, arrived. This friend had lost her mother only a few months earlier. The first couple hours of our visit was spent sitting in my dim living room rehashing my recent trauma and discussing her loss as well. It was sad. It was cathartic. It deepened a bond between the two of us. Her presence delivered a gift of lightness and energy to one of the saddest times in my life. When she left 5 days later, she said that she felt that the timing was meant to be, that she was meant to be in our lives that week. I cannot believe anything else. She absolutely was meant to be there for us. We were blessed to have her.

Healing Grief
You can ignore my big noggin, just look in his eyes. The way he looked at the camera, knowing, and with depth, is how he looked at you in life. He had a soul that I could see in his eyes.

Time passed. The artist I contacted about painting Connor started sending photos of the progress she had made in sketching out and then painting our dear pup. Every photo was a gift and sent me into a fit of tears. Loss is hard. I felt the need to say to people, “I know he was just a dog but…” in order to protect myself in case they thought my level of sadness was unusual or weird or that I should just “be over it.” In retrospect, I don’t have to justify my grief at all. No one does. Grief is grief. If I say I’m sad, and I need time to process and work through my pain, that’s my right. If I’m going to work, if I’m paying my bills and not crawling into a bottle or strangers’ beds or going through cases of Doritos, there’s no need for concern, just empathy.

I think life is one long lesson, one after the other, you either get smarter on the lessons you’re learning, or you just bang your head against the same damn lesson your whole life through. One lesson I have struggled with is how to express empathy. It’s not that I haven’t had concern for people, it’s that I struggled to really put myself in someone else’s shoes in terms of coping with a sick loved one, grief, or really any type of trauma. The loss of Connor finally split my heart open wide enough for the lesson to take hold. His death gave me empathy. I can now empathize with the feeling of being a helpless bystander as a loved one endures an illness that has more questions than answers and no clear path to wellness. Or perhaps no path at all. The illnesses may vary, the scenarios each unique, but the helplessness and the worry and the tears are all universal. And I can say with so much more conviction, how sorry I am, and offer hugs and inappropriate jokes and anything to give a little emotional release. It does not matter that Connor was “just a dog.” We had a deep and unusual connection, and I took his death very hard.

German Shepherd Painting Detail
In his eyes, particularly his left eye (the one on the right of the painting) she perfectly captured his spirit. It truly is like he is staring out of this canvas.

The piece of artwork resembling my sweet dog continued to take shape in someone else’s home as I waited (mostly) patiently. I should add that Sara, the artist, is not someone I knew personally but to whom I would send unsolicited blogging advice. Yes, you read that correctly. She started a blog after I did, and I would send her articles that I thought were helpful and informative. After all, I had done the reading of a ton of crappy and good articles, why not share the good ones with someone? I assured my friends (who thought I was crazy) that I wasn’t critiquing her actual blogging, just passing on information I thought was helpful. (they still thought I was crazy). I felt a kinship with her because she is local to the area and we both have creative talents.

Memorial German Shepherd Painting
The final product. Sorry for the obnoxious watermark, I just really wanted to protect her artwork from being poached.

I received the final photo of the painting last week, I gave my okay and she applied the final seal and we arranged for me to pick up the painting over the weekend. I pulled up to Sara’s house and as I was walking up the drive, she stepped out the front door with this enormous canvas with my dog’s energy looking out at me. I burst into tears. Me, the one who doesn’t like crying in public, burst into tears in front of a stranger. And then we hugged. I not only cried in front of a stranger, I then HUGGED her. Grief makes you do weird things. But it also opens your heart to people you might otherwise not have been open to.

It was like Sara was meant to make this painting for me, to help me heal, that she would gently soothe my sadness with the loving strokes that she put down on canvas. We stood and chatted for a bit about her desires for her own business, that doing fine art, painting, is where her true passion lies and that it is a path she hopes to move further down. I thought that was amazing, that here she was giving me this gift of my dog, but this was also meaningful to her as it was a step toward something she wanted to develop for herself. And in the same way my friend was meant to arrive the week that Connor died, I believe that Sara was meant to put this piece together for us. She was so sweet to work with, and the piece of art she created for us is not only amazing for its artistic quality and her talent, but because she managed to capture our dog’s spirit in those paints. It is something mystical that she was able to translate with her painting.

German Shepherd Painting
I entitled this photo “Home.” Because that’s what this is. He is home now, he is home in our hearts, home in this painting, and the painting, and our female shepherd left, make our house a home.

If you’d like to check out her work, her website is here and I highly suggest you follow her Facebook here, that is where you can see her artistic journey unfolding.

Thank you, Sara, for this wonderful gift.

If you would like to follow me on Facebook, you can find me here. I’d love to have you as part of my growing community of amazing people.

Dog Death Lessons on Life

Share This:

A Tribute To The Barns & People of Wisconsin (Yes I’m Serious)

A few years ago on one of our many trips back to Wisconsin I made my in-laws drive me around the central-Wisconsin countryside so I could take photos of barns. I Say “made” because as I recall, my father-in-law feigned annoyance and bewilderment at such a request, but I know he loved every minute of it. Anyway, I have something of an obsession (Fetish? Love?) with old barns. Part of it I think is growing up without horses and seeing barns without any animals and wondering why the hell you would have all that property and a barn and not have any animals. But I also really just love the thought that these structures are so old and have a history of their own, they supported a way of life, of family and of farming. And they are a part of the landscape that is disappearing. There is a barn that was on Hwy County P in between Wisconsin Rapids and Stevens Point that about a year after I took a photo of it, was torn down. There was nothing built in its place, I don’t know why it was torn down, but it made me sick.

County P Wisconsin Barn
The barn on County P (now called 66) that is no longer standing. Last time I was there the silo was still up.

It’s not that Oregon doesn’t have any old barns, we do. But for the most part they are not nearly as old. Nor do they have that charming fieldstone foundation. And there are far fewer in Oregon than what I see in Wisconsin. In Wisconsin you can’t swing a dead cat without hitting a barn.

I love barns so much that we held our wedding at one. The old barn, originally built in the 1870’s was brought down by a tornado in 1993, in 1997 the family began rebuilding the barn as a type of healing after their son died. The place has since sold, it still hosts weddings, but the people who owned it, who rebuilt the barn, and who treated us like family when we were married on their property, have moved on. During the wedding they opened their home to us and made our wedding feel like the party I wanted it to be. I’m sure the new owners are perfectly nice people, but the former owners were absolutely saints in my eyes. I don’t know if you’ve ever planned a wedding, but it can be incredibly stressful, especially planning it 2000 miles away from the actual venue. Their Wisconsin friendliness and hospitality did not disappoint and I will be forever thankful we not only had our wedding in Wisconsin but also at the Cedar Hill Barn.

Wisconsin Wedding Venue Barn Cedar Hill Barn
The barn where we were married. They converted the silo to bathrooms.

I’m not from Wisconsin, but with all of my husband’s family there and with how much I have visited in the 10 years since we’ve been together, I definitely feel like it is a home away from home. Partially because the people there really do make you feel welcome and loved. When I worked on the ranch in Arizona, one of the guests found out I was dating Dean and that he was from Wisconsin. She cooed and told me that people from Wisconsin were the best people, that you couldn’t find better or nicer people. I thought she was just being trite. It turns out she was right. If you are feeling low, or not part of a community, seriously, just go visit Wisconsin. I guarantee a stranger will chat you up and befriend you before you know it. I should know, I’m not that friendly or chatty with strangers and people still manage to draw me out there.

Wisconsin Stone Foundation Barns
Look at those barns and that brooding sky, I just think there are so many stories in those wood and mortar walls.

I actually think it gives more credit to my love for Wisconsin that I’m not from there, of course people brag about where they live or where they’re from. But I’m neither and I definitely have a special place in my heart for Wisconsin. Right about now I figure my sweet mother-in-law is wondering why in the hell I don’t live there if I love it so much. (I did steal her son away to Oregon for the last decade).

Wisconsin Gambrel Roofed Barn
Fun fact, this roof style is called Gambrel, you’re welcome.

Snow. Lots of Snow. And Ice. And lack of mountains, or ocean, or high desert. I’m not a huge fan of the geography of Wisconsin, I mean, the rolling hills are nice, but I like a little more drama in my landscape. And there are some other more practical reasons, like my career being established in Oregon. Nothing personal about your landscape Wisconsin, it is beautiful; it just doesn’t quite meet my needs.

I like people from Wisconsin so much that I joined a couple of their horse forums. Actually it was the first horse forum I joined outside of Oregon. I figured they would be gentle with me if they didn’t like my blog posts or writing. And by gentle, I mean they just wouldn’t say anything. Luckily they did like my funny little writings and boosted my courage to join some other forums that were a little more intimidating (read: east coast forums).

Wisconsin Hay Field
A lovely Wisconsin hay field, just because.

So if you’re from Wisconsin, thanks for being so damned friendly! If you’re not from Wisconsin and have never been, go! They have awesome lake side communities, cabins, rolling hills, cheese factories and they make Pabst Blue Ribbon. I’m just going to repeat those last two points: You can get fresh made cheese and beer, what more do you need to know?

Wisconsin Beer ATM
Seriously, this is not normal in the rest of the country. Most ATMs do not say they are for beer money. Only in Wisconsin.

If you’re curious, you can see the website for where we were married here

If you don’t already follow me on Facebook, go “like” my page. You won’t regret it. I hope.

Why You Should Go To Wisconsin The People and Barns

Share This:

Why I Saw A Hypnotherapist, And How It Changed My Outlook

Sometimes, our desires are a little, or a lot, beyond what we believe we can do. Carrying the American flag for the rodeo is one of those dreams of mine that I struggled to believe I could actually accomplish. A little less than a month prior to the rodeo I sat in my kitchen crying to my husband about how worried I was about carrying the flag. I had worked a few times with the horse I was planning to use and felt confident in her calm demeanor, but I had little confidence in myself. The large flag was proving more difficult to manage than I realized and I’d had a couple nights of practice that didn’t instill much confidence in me. I felt sick with worry at the thought of the event and that I had less than four weeks to get myself into flag-carrying shape.

About a year ago, for reasons I cannot recall, I found a hypnotherapist in my town and had been interested in what she did. I now thought about her and wondered if she could help me, if she could put a spell on me and help me succeed in carrying the flag. The day after I cried to my husband about my worries, I called the hypnotist’s office. She asked me what I was hoping to work on. I told her. She asked me if I was physically capable of carrying the flag, I said yes. She asked me if I had been practicing with the flag, and I said that I had. She told me to keep practicing, that hypnotherapy wasn’t magic. Her blunt statement made me laugh.

I ended up meeting with her twice, each time we chatted for about a half hour before getting into the relaxation/positive visualization/hypnotherapy portion. She used the pre-chat to guide what I was looking to get out of the experience with her and what I was hoping ultimately to achieve on my own. My first session she focused intensely on me being capable, confident, proud and honored while carrying the flag. She helped me to stop my mind from going to the worry place and dumping adrenaline in my body and increasing my anxiety. She helped me to shift my focus to the place of honor, the place of confidence. It was a remarkable shift. It was a shift I can feel in my body. The worry place is in my stomach and makes me sick, the place of honor, of pride, is in my chest and feels light and joyous.

Carrying The Flag at The Rodeo
Waiting for our turn in the arena.

After my first session with her, every time I would start to get a little nervous, a little worried, start imagining all of the horrible things that could go wrong, I would just shut down those thoughts and think of the people I was really carrying the flag for: my two Marine Corps brothers and my Navy Veteran father. I would think of the absolute gratitude I felt for the chance to carry the flag. It sounds so simple, too easy really, but it worked. And I kept practicing with the flag, and my practice got better. Not just because the hypnotherapy shifted my mindset, but also because I had a wonderful trainer helping me work with the horse I would be using.

My second session with the hypnotherapist we focused again on the place of honor and gratitude, but she also asked me why I called carrying the flag an opportunity. And it made me realize that this lifelong dream, something that I had always secretly envied and loved and watched with adoration, was also something I never imagined I could do. I never even really told anyone that it was a dream of mine to carry the flag. It only came out a little at a time to a close friend, granted a close friend who regularly carried the flag. But it was she who really made me name the desire. She outright asked me if carrying the flag was something I wanted to do. I told her absolutely yes but that I was also terrified by the idea.

Rodeo Sun And Flag
About to enter the arena

Now maybe some of you are wondering what the hell is the big deal. But I get nervous showing my horse in front of about 50 people, now add about 5000 people and a giant American flag that you can’t drop under any circumstances. Add the noise of the crowd, the cannon fire in the middle of the song, the shapes of the sponsor flags around the arena, the smell of the stock animals. It’s a lot for a horse to manage. It’s a lot for a rider to navigate. And there is an emotional component to it. I have pride in my country. I come from a military family and have experienced both of my brothers being in war. The flag isn’t just a decoration taken out over a few summer holidays and shown at sports events, it means something to me. People have died fighting for what our red, white, and blue flag represents.

So during that second session with the hypnotherapist I realized that if I wanted to keep dreaming bigger and bigger dreams, if I wanted to keep striving to live just beyond my comfort zone, I would have to name my desires. I would have to believe that my ridiculous, audacious and inconceivable dreams could be possible, that they could come to fruition. I might not know exactly how, I might not know where dreaming such dreams could take me, but I have to be bold enough to put it out there. In carrying the flag I was lucky, I had a friend who pulled my dream out of me, she urged me on. But there isn’t always going to be someone who cares so much, who teases the dream out little by little and pushes me on along the way. I have to own the role I play and reach as far as I can on my own.

The second session made me feel like I had received a small kernel of enlightenment. How can you ever expect to achieve a dream you’re not willing to name? How can you ever expect to get something you’re too shy, too insecure, too whatever to ask for? In that moment, I realized that I couldn’t. I couldn’t expect to receive anything that I haven’t asked for, reached for, worked for. It’s not magic, you have to work for it.

Its Not Magic You Have To Do The Work

If you’re wondering, the hypnosis portion of our sessions was a little like being between sleep and awake. There was vivid visualization of what we discussed. It was a type of deep relaxation with an imaginative picture-story. It was a little awkward at first, but I decided I was paying to try and help myself, I might as well dive into the experience whole heartedly. So I let myself be lost in the visualization. I could remember most everything that happened during the session, I was conscious of what was going on around me. This is important because I am a cynic and did briefly wonder if the woman was going to rifle through my purse and steal my identity. But she didn’t, and even if she had, I would have come out of the relaxation and known what she was doing. After both sessions I felt as relaxed as if I had just had a massage, right down to my legs feeling wobbly.

When the day came to carry the flag, I spent the morning drinking mimosas with visiting friends. I can think of no better way to start the day. Then I got my ½ inch layer of make up on, applied a half can of hairspray to my curls and headed off to the barn. I was still nervous, quite a bit actually. But we got a practice ride in and I settled a bit. Then I sat with some other friends and had a little whiskey and coke and settled some more. Then I put on my sequin shirt, bobby-pinned my hat to my head and got on my paint horse. We stood behind the in-gate for about an hour, waiting for our turn. You might think that would cause me to be more nervous, but it had the opposite effect. I got to watch the rodeo court riding into the arena, the drill team shifting around and then running in, the sponsor flag runners do their run-ins. Little by little each of the groups entered and left the arena. Then came a memorial ride in honor of my friend’s mom and I found myself all choked up with tears in my eyes. My friend handed the enormous flag up to me, we unfurled it, and then I got really choked up. She tugged my reins to pull me toward the in-gate.

It was finally my turn. I clucked and squeezed my calves and got my horse up into a jog. We had a little bit of a rough start and we ended up going into a lope much earlier than I planned, but we loped around the arena for five minutes, with that big beautiful flag flying and one of my brothers and my father and the rest of my fan club watching. Once I got out there I was actually far less nervous than I thought I’d be because I had a job to do. I could not focus on my nerves or people or what my nervous imagination was dreaming up. I had to keep my horse going and the flag upright. And I did. And it was beautiful. I am so grateful to have had the experience.

Here’s a link to a one minute video of my great ride

I hope you believe me when I say, whatever your big dreams are, they are possible. Whatever audacious, ridiculous, bold ideas are, if you are willing to do the work, if you are willing to inch out further and further onto the ledge of possibility, they can be yours. I really, truly was not sure I could carry the flag, not because I was physically incapable, but because I was unsure if I could manage my emotions and my stress around carrying the flag. But I did, and I feel empowered by the experience. What is your big, audacious, ridiculous dream?

Never miss a blog post, Sass In Boots sketch or other musing, follow me on Facebook!

Why I Saw A Hypnotherapist

Share This: