horseman's journey
One struggling horsewoman's journey to lightness and unity.
Friday, March 1, 2024
Learning to do better and be better: A revolution in Equestrian traditions
Wednesday, October 11, 2023
Musings from the trail
I just completed my now third annual week of trail riding where I spend each day exploring a new trail (or favorite trail) with one of my trusty Morgan horses enjoying what is likely to be the last wonderful weather before winter descends on our North Idaho high country. As I've come to do, I spent the majority of that time on the trail with just my Morgans, allowing for maximal introspection and partnership with my horses.
Here are the things I have come to learn about myself and my horses through these solo adventures.
First of all my riding has evolved over the past three years. While I used to be about the extreme adventure or the miles logged or the hours spent in the saddle, those things hold little attraction for me anymore. I don't choose the longest rides, or highest peaks because I want it to look good on my trail log journal. I have tended to gravitate towards the rides that allow me to see the far flung places where I can be still and enjoy the peace and quiet of the majestic places we can go without feeling the need to rush back down the mountain. Maybe this is just a sign I'm getting older, I did turn 50 this year after all. I would like to believe it is a sign I'm getting wiser and more settled in myself and the things that really resonate deep in my soul. I cringe thinking about the times in the past I would battle and scramble and hump it up a mountain only to spend about 10 min taking pictures before heading back down. My favorite memory from this past week is the hour that Kit and I spent basking in the sunshine together on the top of Mt. Pend Orielle. There is peace in stillness. Take your moments of stillness and embrace the beauty of this life. It makes the other worries seem so much less. High mountains are good for both the view and the perspective.
Hanging out with Annie on the banks of Moose Lake. This was Annie's first time out on the trail this year after raising a baby this summer. |
I listen to my horses more than I used to. Again, this may be age more than wisdom but the quiet miles and hours spent in the high country with only my horses for company really improves the quality of the two way communication we share. It allows me to know intimately how my horses are feeling about any particular situation so that I can be prepared to help them or reassure them as necessary. Sometimes that means taking a quiet moment to breath together or sometimes it means me getting off to assess the footing and lead a horse that is questioning the passage. My former self would have disdained a rider that felt the need to get off and walk a horse through a tricky spot opting to instead "cowboy up" and show that horse who is boss. but being out there alone makes you extra cautious. You've got no audience, no peer pressure and nothing to prove other than the desire to get out of there, the both of you, in one piece. When my horses tell me they need some help, I get off and give it to them. Forcing a horse when the footing is questionable leads to mistakes and mistakes lead to injuries. Allowing myself and my horses the grace to say, yes, this is tricky, let me show you the path I would choose. Trust me to keep you safe. It is a great honor and responsibility to have a being as noble as the horse look to you for guidance and comfort when the going gets rough. It also means that when I need my horses to be there for me and to get me through whatever lies ahead I can lean on them too. Trust is a two way street.
Coming down off of Fault Lake basin with Ernie |
It's important to me that my horses are as invested and excited about the ride as I am. Perhaps I'm kidding myself, but I really believe my Morgans enjoy the adventures we share. They are never reluctant to be caught and never refuse to load. They never attempt to turn around and go back to the trailer. They never seem anxious or worried when they get out of the trailer, no matter what kind of road I had to crawl over to get there. My younger horses, still learning the ropes, are different. They will sometimes be nervous when the road has been rough or they are unloaded in a strange place once again. But in those instances I will spend extra time grooming, petting, and reassuring them, maybe letting them graze a bit or eat from a hay bag before we head out on the trail. Investing in this bank of peace and contentment serves us well as we move on down the trail. You must be at peace and calm to avoid the pitfalls of the spooks and the dangers of horses rushing through obstacles due to nerves.
Navigating the ridgeline to Estelle Lake was a little much for Jack on a solo jaunt so we walked it in and rode it out. He did great on the way out! |
Mountain driving and mountain riding are two separate but equal skill sets. As a proud Gen Xer I am definitely of the generation of self assured and capable women but still old enough to sometimes think (even if it's privately) "little ol' me?" So driving into the woods alone with horse in tow to some of these places I've only read about or explored on a map can be nerve wracking. My desire for adventure and seeing new places is in constant battle with my reluctance to get into a road that I have to (God forbid) back out of for any distance. Mountain driving and ensuring that we arrive in one piece and don't destroy the truck and trailer has been a learning curve. On a rather disastrous attempt I will never forget I was sure I would have to call a helicopter to get us out of there, and by the time I got to a spot I could turn around I was shaking and trying my best to hold it together. I still rode that day as I wasn't going to waste all that effort and not explore the trail we meant to see! My best advice for driving in the mountains is GO SLOW. It's safer for your truck, it helps to avoid those huge rocks and your horse will arrive much happier. It also means you have to factor in that drive time in your day, often sacrificing miles on the trail so you aren't driving out at dusk on roads best traveled in broad daylight. I've had to turn around by inches. I've had to navigate over washouts. I've had to back out due to a down tree across the road. I've had to change flat tires. It takes some practice and I HIGHLY recommend scouting before you go out. I just don't have that kind of time! But, I've learned that given enough time and determination I can get myself out of almost anything.
My magical Green Hornet and Exiss trailer. We've done a lot of miles this summer! We did almost 600 miles of mountain driving just last week! |
Chico following me up Strawberry mountain. |
Finally, I've learned riding out by myself is that silence is golden. I so rarely have silence in my life. Our modern lives are so full of noise and distraction. I also suffer from tinnitus so even at night there is noise in my ears. The fan or an audio book help to keep that at bay so I can sleep. But, in the woods there is a different kind of silence that is full of quiet noise. The blowing of the wind through the trees. The sounds of running water. The calls of birds and the buzz of insects and all with the back drop of the creaking of my saddle and the sound of my horse's feet. I could listen to all of that for hours and hours. I used to sing on the trail, or talk to myself or my horses, but in the interest of cultivating stillness and silence I'm much more inclined to just ride through the forest breathing in time with my horse and letting my senses be filled with the sounds, sights and smells of the forest. It's absolutely addictive.
Kit and I on top of Mt. Pend Orielle soaking up the sunshine. |
Riding solo is not for everyone and not for every horse. I'm certainly careful about the places I go when I am riding alone with one of my young Morgans still in the learning phase. Accidents can and do happen. If you choose to ride alone make sure somebody knows where you are. Start small and work up to the longer tougher rides. If you get nervous out there, you are no good to your horse, so only do the things you feel comfortable with.
Friday, July 21, 2023
Corralling your Confidence
There is absolutely nothing worse than having your
confidence in yourself stolen. It
happens to all of us at some point and you have to fight like the dickens to
get it back. Think back to your 12 year
old self playing in the back yard. I bet
you were slaying dragons, leaping off roofs, running as fast as The Flash in
your brand new sneakers. We have to be
told we can’t do it all because at some point in time we all believe so
strongly in ourselves that we think we are invincible. Then life comes along and starts to dampen
that enthusiasm for all the important pursuits.
Maybe it’s a well meaning parent that is trying to keep you from riding
your big wheel down the bank into the creek (I’m looking at you, Madi). Or maybe it’s a teacher that tells you your
fantasy story is too fantastical and those things just don’t make sense. It’s often well meaning people, important and
influential in our lives that are just trying to help us figure out life. Eventually we begin to learn that we aren’t
all that and a bag of chips and perhaps we should proceed cautiously into this
bigger world. It’s at that moment we
slip off our superman cape and walk stoop shouldered into the world.
Dampening of childhood confidence is probably part of
growing up but losing your passion and verve for all this world has to offer is
like a cancer slowly eating away at your soul and stealing away all the little moments
that make the beautiful memories.
Because horsemanship is a life sport it provides a great metaphor
for how confidence is projected and changes as we age. A 12 year old horse crazy kid is the perfect
example of unbridled confidence and joy for life in the moment. Watch that 12 year old kid convince that
sometimes skittish as heck Arab cross mare to sidle up to the plastic kiddie
table so she can skitter up bareback and practice jumping random jumps using 5
gallon buckets as jump standards. Falling off is all part of the fun! That 12
year old kid inside all of us eventually ages, gets a mortgage and maybe some
crazy 12 year olds of her own and soon she is a little leery of mounting the 17
year old dead broke gelding from the mounting block if it’s a smidge windy
out.
If you have felt life steal your courage you are not
alone. As a matter of fact its so common
as to be passe. But, it is possible to
get your courage back and enjoy the things you used to do without thinking
twice about it! The key is to start
small and build your confidence in a million tiny ways. Find things that stretch your confidence and
tighten the ties on your superman cape and face the challenge like a 12 year
old in shorts on a half broke Arab. Here
are some ways that you can reconnect with your inner 12 year old.
1.
Embrace
groundwork. Though it may get poo-pooed
in some circles, ground work is essential for facing some of your fears with your
shaking legs firmly on the ground. It’s
a great way to introduce things to your horse and help build their confidence. But, it’s also important to recognize when being
on the ground isn’t the safest option.
Sometimes the very best place you can be is up on their backs. But, do the groundwork at home, do it when
you meet something you aren’t sure your horse will handle well. And make sure you learn GOOD groundwork. I’m not going to make any specific
recommendation or derisions but if your groundwork program tells you to “beat
that donkey”; it may not be quite the right one. 😉
2.
Find your tribe! Surround yourself with horse friends that ride
the way you want to ride. I also
encourage you to find friends that have skills beyond yours. Find friends interested in elevating their
skills, finding the magic of soft feel and embrace both adventure and
learning. I also encourage you to remove
toxicity from your tribe. If your tribe
isn’t cheering you on, even and probably more importantly when your back is
turned, then you need to remove that individual from your tribe. Find people that will pick you up when you
fall and cheer when you get back on.
3.
Push your boundaries. Growth and learning isn’t always comfortable.
Sometimes it can make you nervous or anxious.
A little bit of that in the right environment is where the magic can happen. Want a dead broke horse? Go places and do things that challenge the
both of you. You won’t ever know how trustworthy
your mount is until you challenge that trust with situations that require the
both of you to rely on each other as true partners.
4.
Keep an open mind. You never know where you will pick up a little
gem of horsemanship. I’ve learned some
amazing little things just from my clients.
It may be a simple as a new knot or maybe a feeding or husbandry
trick. I may pick that up while watching
them have trouble putting a halter on 😉. If
you are always looking to learn instead of judging the learning in others you
can learn and grow in any situation. The
more you learn the more confidence you have!
5.
Invest in the very best horse your budget can afford. If you haven’t shopped for awhile there may
be some sticker shock for you as you discover what a basic broke trail gelding
costs in this day and age. This leads
many folks to hunting the kill pens or rescue organizations out there. While there are diamonds in the rough to be
uncovered, buying the wrong horse will do more to destroying your confidence
than anything else. ANY horse has the potential
to cause a wreck that will end up hurting you.
This is the nature of this game we play.
But, investing in a proven and safe as possible experienced mount that matches
your current level of experience is the best way to preserve your confidence
AND help rekindle the self-confidence I am speaking of.
Confidence is such an important part of being a leader for
your horse. They know! They always know! You can fake it until you make it to a certain
extent but the horse can always feel your fear even if you are trying to laugh
it off. Breathing helps so much for both
you and your horse because it has actual physical affects on your sympathetic nervous
system. If you are struggling to tie the
strings of your Superman cape and feel your knees go weak when you approach the
mounting block, try some of the suggestions above. Start small and build big. There is a great big world out there. Go get yourself a piece of it!
Saturday, April 8, 2023
Grief Bubbles
Grief is such a weird and complicated emotion. I don’t even think emotion is a good word for
this often life changing emotional roller coaster. We, as Americans, suck at grief. Our society doesn’t recognize the extended
and complicated process it often entails and instead allows for a nice stepwise
progression that has an established time period associated with “healing” from
your grief.
Grief is a cornucopia of emotions and time lines, and
nothing about it is linear. The only
thing that can be said is that it does get easier with time. You don’t “heal” from grief. You don’t “get over it”. You don’t forget or really ever quit hurting
with the remembered loss. What you do is
find a way to live with this new flavor of life and the living with it gets
easier the more you do it.
As a veterinarian and a life long animal owner I thought at my
somewhat advanced age that I was actually well acquainted with loss and the
emotions that go with it. I have experienced
the “normal” losses a person goes through with saying goodbye to lots of pets, grandparents
and I lost a couple of dear uncles. But,
when my own personal BIG loss came I was devastated in a way that I didn’t
think was possible for me. The devastation
was so disorienting that it made be question so much about who I thought I was
and what I thought I was capable of. The
depth of the pain was crippling and all I could think about was that I wanted
it to stop. I was not suicidal and did
not want to hurt myself at that point but for the first time in my life I
understood how someone can feel that is the only way for them. I knew deep down that if I stopped breathing
and my life ended it would be nothing but a relief.
As time passed and I got some professional help to deal with
the trauma of my loss I began to breath in a way that allowed me to carry the weight
of the grief without so much struggle. I
will never forget the first time I laughed spontaneously and actually joyfully
after that event. It was weeks after the
trauma. It felt so foreign and it was followed not by
relief but profound fear that I wouldn’t figure out how to be normal
again.
Now I’m in my second year of this new life. Most of the time I feel what I’ve learned to
call my new normal. I laugh and enjoy
life most of the time. But what I keep experiencing
that I haven’t ever heard someone else talk about in grief is a phenomenon I
can only call grief bubbles. They are happening
with decreasing frequency but they still surprise me.
One theory is that for a while when I was really struggling
I didn’t think I would ever really be happy or joyful again. I walked around like a zombie for months experiencing
things without actually feeling them. So,
gratefulness and true joy are still such a wonderful feeling in comparison to the
zombie feeling that it reminds me on some level of how I’ve improved and
reminds me just by contrast of the pain that was there. So much so, in fact, that it bubbles the
grief back up for a minute until I can breathe through it again.
Another theory is that in joy, thankfulness and serenity we
lower our natural defenses. When we
allow ourselves the opportunity to sit in these positive emotions we are our
best selves. But that doesn’t imply perfection. Our true and best selves carry the scars and
baggage and trauma they have survived; not in any sole crushing way but just as
the complete package that we are as we move through this life. This is why the notion of “getting over” any grief
or trauma can be such a difficult and damaging concept for any one in the
struggling phase. It’s easy to hate
yourself and your weakness for not moving forward fast enough, complete enough
or well enough to “get over it”.
Early in my grieving when I was at my lowest my best friend shared
with me the advice she had been given to make friends with your grief. I had no idea what the heck that meant at
that point but I was sure that advice was not for me. As I continue to move through and understand
this process I think I now know what that means. Grief is the gift of love and human
suffering. It is the darkness that makes
the light seem so bright. To fully
experience the vast array of human emotions we have to experience the lows as
well as the highs. You must cry to know
how good a smile can feel. I would never
want to walk knowingly into grief again if I could avoid it, but I am thankful
for the things I have learned through my pain.
I have a deeper empathy for those that are suffering. I have a greater appreciation for the many
small blessings we experience daily. I’ve
learned to infuse my life with moments of serenity, at first so I could deal
with my grief process but now as a valued method of restoring my sanity and
peace of mind.
So, when I am happily bopping along humming to myself and
feeling grateful and a surge of a grief bubbles boil up, I take a minute to acknowledge
and breath through my grief. I take a
moment to appreciate the things around me that bring me happiness and joy. I take a moment to remember those loved ones
I have recently said goodbye to and the ones I didn’t take the time to properly
grieve in my younger years. ( Grief is also oddly compounding so that one loss
can make you relive a previous loss. As
if this process wasn’t complicated enough!) But, what I previously viewed as a
weakness of character I now recognize as a strength. To love deeply is to one day lose deeply
because that is the way life works. I
wouldn’t trade the love for pain of loss even at the worst times. I do wish I had had a better understanding of
the grieving process before I was knocked off my feet. That’s why I hope talking about it helps
others experiencing the myriad of emotions lumped into moving through
grief.
So, if you are walking your own grief journey and learning what this new life looks like for you, I would like to offer these three things:
1. Breathe and let the tears flow when they come as often as you can. Even if its well past when you should "be over it".
2. Find your one thing that brings you peace even in your pain. Use that to recenter yourself as often as you need.
3. Talk about your process with someone who has walked the path before. All the weird grief experiences that you think are just you may turn out to be more common than you think! (Grief hair! I didn't know it was a thing!)
I have been putting P's on mountains to honor two losses in my life. It's a great way to carry my loved ones with me while I practice my serenity and peace seeking.
Friday, March 24, 2023
Making a Mountain Horse
Chico on Queen Mnt |
Ernie on Gold Hill |
Kit on Red Top Mnt |
Friday, December 16, 2022
Finding Your Foal
I was asked recently what I look for in a foal. How do I pick a good one, or what is it about a youngster that sparks joy in my heart? I found it wasn't a snap answer. Definitely one to give some consideration to from multiple view points. So, here are my viewpoints. They are just mine, of course, but maybe they will give you some perspective on finding your own!
I remember asking my mentor, Eitan, what he looked for in a horse. How did he pick the champions from the many young horses that came through his hands. He found it hard to verbalize. Like the artist and horseman that he is he described it as a feeling. You just know. There is something about the horse that speaks to your soul. When I look at the horses that have remained as part of my herd I would have to agree. There is something about the outside of a horse that touches the inside of the human and that connection is a lot like picking a spouse. It's hard to define.
Mia Fe born July 2020. "Fe" was a very sensitive but brave foal from day one. She is an athletic level mover much like her momma. She is opinionated but smart. Definitely one to challenge you. |
As a Veterinarian I am called on to examine young horses for health and wellness. I often get to see these youngsters at their 24 hour check up. It's quite honestly one of my favorite things to do. If I wasn't also trying to run a business I would do these check ups free of charge. It's the very best part of our job. We listen to the heart, checking for regularity and lack of murmurs. We listen to the lungs to ensure there is no lingering fluid and air is moving equally through both sides. We feel all the joints to be sure there is no swelling. We check the umbilicus, scrotal area and perineum for any hernias or abnormalities indicating possible inherited reproductive defects. We look at the jaws, to ensure there is no evidence of malignment of the bite. We look at the eyes to be sure we don't have any suspicion of congenital cataracts. And finally we draw blood to make sure that baby received all of the colostrum from momma to set it on the path of health and wellness for a productive life. None of those very important things tell me anything about who the horse is destined to be. The completely healthy and normal 24 hour old foal may grow up to be a clobber footed dingbat who can't walk a straight line without tripping or spooking. What does give me some information as to who this foal will be is how they handle the process of this examination.
Whether your foal was imprinted properly or was gathered from a range mare and trapped in a corner while someone restrains the veterinarian eating momma, you can see right from the start if this is a sensitive, curious, frightful, brave, or smart baby. It still doesn't tell you much about their winning potential but it does give you the first glimpse of their personality. In my very humble and relatively inexperienced opinion, that personality means at least twice what the conformation, breeding and type mean for performance in the long run.
The next important aspect of evaluating a young horse is to be realistic about what you hope that foal will grow up to be. You may have a discipline focused breeding program that is carefully creating foals for a specific purpose that predetermines the athletic future of your foal. You may also have one special mare that you bred in honor of keeping the legacy of that special horse alive in your herd. Either way, the best of intentions can be overridden by so many variables that are completely out of your control and likely more related to your horse's personality or possibly physical limitations. My great grandpa, grandpa, father and uncle were all attorneys. My mother was a paralegal for my father. I was bred to be an attorney and raised in a home filled with it. My personality determined that wasn't possible for me. That's a little anthropomorphic for our foals, but they will tell you what their job should be if you listen. You are much more likely to turn a baby bred for your sport into a happy participant in that sport but they can still surprise you.
This is again why I think personality is so important in your selection. If you are a hunter jumper you want a brave, forward thinking not overly sensitive (spooky or touchy) foal. If you are a reiner you want an athletic, sensitive, smart but level headed foal. If you are a casual trail rider you want a foal that is trusting, quiet, brave but not reactive. It's important to be realistic about your goals. You may think you want a high powered athletic cowy son-of-a-gun, but if you are only a casual hobby cow worker that horse may spin right out from underneath you because his game is bigger than yours!
I believe you can see a lot of this potential in a youngster from day one, but especially by 3 months. It's a little tougher if they haven't been handled much but you can also watch how they interact in the herd or with their mother. You can watch how they learn, how they process stimuli, how they seek release.
So, how do I select my next partner from the small breeding program I have been blessed with? I have a sentimental legacy that I very much want to carry on in selecting an offspring from my stallion. I had hoped to have a son of his to carry on his legacy but he is going to have to carry that legacy through one of his daughters. I am an avid mountain rider but I also love fancy movement and a flashy horse that tests me and forces me to grow and learn with it. I also want pretty. Ultimately, I think I pick out my horses most like Eitan. There is just that something. That indefinable something that touches my soul when I see a horse that needs to be mine. I'm still not going to be able to put it into any more words than that!
Sunday, January 2, 2022
The Nadir
This blog post is going to depart from my general horsemanship ramblings to more of a personal note. I suppose, as all horsemen know, that horsemanship is really life, it won't be as much of a stretch as it may seem at first glance. As Buck Brannaman is much quoted as saying, "Horses and life; it's all the same to me."
I've come to view 2021 as my personal nadir. As I've been wallowing, struggling and trying to breathe through these past months, "nadir" is the most polite and academic term I can come up with. For those of you who's geometry classes are somewhat of a blur, here is the definition of nadir as defined by our friends at Webster
Nadir: the point of the celestial sphere that is directly opposite the zenith and vertically downward from the observer. 2 : the lowest point.
The problem with the term nadir is that it assumes that it is in fact the lowest point and that there will be no points lower in the future. Handy in geometry or astronomical computations, less handy in life. Indeed I cringe slightly to assume this is in fact has been the nadir and that life will be better in the future. That implies a certain amount of hope that is quite frankly difficult to sustain in the sucking pit of nadirism.
Pain, depression and anxiety, regardless of their source or substance can only truly be appreciated by the person for whom they are making their mark. We judge our friends for their ability to weather a storm and marvel at their brave ability to move forward with a perpetual spirit of polyannaism. As a society we are uncomfortable with grief, pain, and depression. It hasn't been that long in our collective psyche that the mentally compromised were stashed away out of sight in some horrific institutions, colloquially dubbed "hospitals" but more akin to dungeons.
In today's more "woke" society we can talk about it in the abstract. We can recognize the importance of mental well being and stability. We have armloads of pharmaceuticals devoted to the pursuit of stable mental health. But we still struggle to know what to do for a friend or loved one that is experiencing the nadir of their own personal storyline arc.
Because as a society we struggle to embrace these nadirs, those left experiencing them are forced to cope in a number of different ways, all of which are then subject to judgement by our friends, families and acquaintances. Unfortunately, without the aid of either professionals who are well versed in these struggles or friends that have reached their nadir and climbed back out again we can struggle to feel like our own personal journey is normal emphasizing the "brokenness" that I think is more disorientating than the depression.
While all of us must go through the day to day and minute to minute realities of our own journey on our own, it is so useful to know that others have felt the way you do and have found a way to feel more "normal" again. But how are we to discover that if we don't talk about it? If talking about it makes your friends feel uncomfortable or that they need to "fix" it for you?
When my best friend hit her nadir and was rocked by personal tragedy that I couldn't even empathize with because of the shear depth of the pain, I was at a loss for how to help. I chose love through distraction for my friend and tried to be present to listen when she needed someone to talk to. But in reality I just couldn't be what she really needed in that time. Thank goodness she had the presence of mind to seek a support group of others that were going through a similar experience to help her understand the process and to help her identify her experience through the filter of other people's journeys.
Then when I hit my low point, she was able to be there for me. Just talking about how low the lows feel and how hard it is some days to just freaking brush your hair and make it out the door. How you have days where you feel pretty dang normal then something hits you out of left field and you are struggling to breath normally again.
Grief and depression are such a personal things. Nobody can truly walk through those things with you. Nobody can take the pain away or say anything that will ease the suffering that has to bleed through your system as it heals you. But, having the freedom to say, "this is how I feel today" and having someone that can say, "Ah, yes. I remember something like that feeling." makes you realize that you are not, after all, crazy. You are not, after all, irrevocably broken. And most importantly, you are not, after all, going to feel like this for the rest of your life.
Having been for the most part a very joyful and optimistic person for the past 48 years it has been earth shattering to me to feel my nadir (dear god, let this be my nadir!). Looking for things that spark joy or trying to count my blessings is a daily chore that I sometimes fail to get done. It's hard not to stare around the world at this dark reality and not just get caught up in the melancholy of it all.
Because society demands it, I hide these feelings most of the time. I play distraction games that allow me to forget or at least to concentrate on something else besides the darkness still sucking at my core. I go to work. I do my chores. I attempt to engage in the things that have brought me joy. But, when I give myself the time to acknowledge the despair it swoops in and grabs me by the ankles and I have to sit and cry for a spell before I can move on again.
So, why am I talking about this? Is this a desperate plea for sympathy? Is this a cry for help or attention? Am I trying to say to the world, look at how tough I have it? Nope. None of those things. I know I am not alone. I know that there are others who are struggling with their own nadirs. I know that loss, suffering, and depression are everywhere and the people struggling may be friends, acquaintances and people that you would never in a million years suspect are struggling. This is why grace is so important. Talking is important when you feel safe to do so. Being NOT OK IS OK!. You don't have to put on a happy face all the time. You don't have to be having the most amazing blessed life all the time. (Social media is the WORST for that!)
We need to normalize the process of being less than okay and still getting through your day. We need to talk about the struggles, the weight of the feelings and the lack of joy that can be a daily burden to carry. We need to be gracious to one another. If you know someone who is struggling, just a quick note, soft word, or quick hug can mean the world to them. Don't make them feel like they have to go away until they can be more happy and normal again. It is brave to face adversity with a smile, but I think it's even braver to stand there and look it in the eye with tears streaming down your face.