Freedom from Expectation

It is my belief, that we all need a space or place in our lives where there are no expectations. No pressure, no deadline, no ticking clock, intrusive thoughts, or fears of doing the "wrong" thing. A place where we can simply exist as everything we are in that moment. A light hearted, excited, bubbling being...

a weeping, shattered, heavy being...a confused, wired, unsure being...or anything in between.

Where do we find a place like this? A place to just BE. For me, this place used to be the barn. However, over the years, I lost that place. The barn became a place of expectation. Not so much expectation of my horses, but expectation of myself. Expectation to get all the youngsters rode, condition the older horses, teach riding lessons, clean pens, bed down stalls, feed, create custom feed plans, oil tack, haul hay, teach, sweep, clean, brush, bathe, train, prepare, push for the next thing and the next and the next. Forever behind. Forever feeling as though I did not do enough or should be doing more.

My round pen was close to this quiet place where I could just BE. My round pen is sacred ground. Negative energy from the day has no place in the round pen, it is all left outside the gate...but that is a story for another day. However, it is still a place of work, of training, of directly encouraging growth. I needed a place to grow in stillness, in quiet, in the deep recesses of my heart that had not seen the light in a long time. I needed to re-create freedom from expectation of myself.

Many of you who have trained for the public understand the constant expectations and push you feel. I wanted to let go of that. I wanted to simply be with a horse and remind myself to let go and just BE.

Recently, I adopted an untouched, wild, mustang. I have zero plans with him. My only goal is to go into his pen everyday and soulfully exist alongside him. I read to him, I talk to him, I sit in silence with him, I imagine touching him and letting all of my love pour over him from my fingertips...knitting together his fears and soul wounds. And as I sit, I am overcome by a plethora of emotions at times. And I let them come...and I let them go. I do not try to understand, analyze, dive-in, or process. I simply exist. And he exists...a soft nose with warm breath trails up my pant leg and over my hand that rests on my thigh. A deep breath for us both. A horse that cocks a foot and stands next to me. Just us. Breathing. Living. Healing. Side-by-side.

My barn has once again become that place where I can just BE. Where I can mindlessly clean the pen, fill the waters, and feed. Where all the tack has a layer of dirt on it. Where things are messy. I had forgotten what it was like to live free from expectation of myself. To have a place where the mind can rest and the body can heal. So, if you catch me sitting in my old turquoise school chair, with a pitch black mustang laced with white markings standing next to me.....know the best "work" is being done in that moment. We are healing.