WHITE CARPET : RED STAIN.

                    

Saturday. I woke up this morning with an image in my mind that won’t go away.  So I thought if I gave it a voice it may have more to teach me. It has to do with my personal journey through domestic violence. It was certainly not a journey that I planned for myself, but once the engine pulled out of the station, picking up speed ~ it was hard to jump off the train.

I have spent the past few months working on a piece of “unfinished business” that bubbled to the surface through a series of seemingly unrelated events. Actually it was brought to my attention by my life coach who listened to me ramble on about the random chaos of my life;  a disappointing experience with my male housemate, patchy communication with my son, and yet .. forever optimistic …. my desire for a new relationship. Yes, I believe I am finally ready.

It was she who finally named the elephant in the room. With her help I have been looking at my relationships with the men in my life ~~ from the very beginning to the present. It has been interesting and sometimes painful; sorting through what is important, what needs to be transformed, and what needs to be let go. 

This morning’s vision was a red stain on white carpet.  It was curious and when I stepped back I saw a scene unfold before me.  I was in a living room ~ and I knew it was my living room although I have never lived in a house with white carpet. Someone had spilled dark red wine. They apologized profusely and even as I quickly found things to mop up the mess I was assuring them that it was alright, that everything would be all right.  But I was lying.  I knew the carpet was ruined and would never be the same again. I had the carpet professionally cleaned and the spot looked like it really had disappeared. But by that evening, after the workmen had left, the carpet began to dry and stain popped out again. And every time the carpet was cleaned the spot faded away a little more, until it was so slight that only I knew it was there. Maybe it isn’t really there anymore! Can you see it?  Maybe I only see it because I remember where it happened.

That is what domestic violence feels like. There were many stains …. but it was such a long, long time ago.  I cleaned and cleaned that damn carpet. I even sat a coffee table over the top and could walk right by without even thinking about it.  I thought the stain had finally disappeared … but here it is again. This is what unfinished business looks like.  

Of course there are elements of forgiveness ~ for myself and others.

But what about wiping the slate clean and forgetting all about it. Is that the answer? Is it even realistic? Does time heal all wounds? For me, the answer is “Yes, but” … which quietly dissolves into “No, not really.” 

And so here is where I am today. I realize that stain happened a long time ago to a young girl who had few skills and very little protection. But today I am a very different person. My forgiveness, offered many years ago, is still sincere. What to do next? I booked an energy session with a friend to clear and remove blocked and harmful energy patterns that no longer serve me. I have studied hard, learned many things, yet often stopped to smell the roses. I know honest lovely men, most of them married to dear friends of mine, but I enjoy their company and know there are more men out there like them. Today I walk with my head up, laugh easily, and am surrounded by friends I can trust to be there for me.

I believe the white carpet is my own young innocence. The "red" stain is the anger I felt deeply and never fully acknowledged. Stains happen, so do miracles.  Talking with a qualified coach and receiving energy work allowed me to move through the process with much more understanding; deeper and quicker and with more direction. 

And I know now that I can choose to pull the cord, stop the train and step off, thusly … moving forward with grace.                                    Blessed be.                                            

FIGHTING THE DEMONS

A friend of mine said to me recently, “You have been cycling through this pattern allot recently. You might want to consider a little round of anti-depressants to get on the other side of this.”

I was stunned. And then another tremor of shock went through me as I took a moment to consider how desirable that felt.  Oh, to take a pill and make my life easier. I barely listened as she told me her doctor’s philosophy that our brain synapsis can get off kilter and begin turning left when they should turn right, making connections that are not healthy for our organism ~ and by taking a round of anti-depressants, a person could break the pattern and get back to being their old self. 

My mind, adopting the adage “Inquiring Minds Want to KNOW,” wondered what would cause the brain to get off course in the first place.  My “Wise Woman” training believes that if we cover up  and placate the symptoms, instead of looking at and relating to the malady ~ we stand the chance of driving the dis-ease deeper into our bodies, only to surface again, later, and typically stronger than the first round.  By taking the time to look at it first, we can save time and can promote wholistic healing. 

Her observation had been a response to my statement that I had spent the afternoon “fighting my demons.” For the most part, my demons are the limiting beliefs that take me away from, or rob me of my joy.  They are not new.  (1) I never have enough time. (2) The balance I seek eludes me. (3) I concentrate more on what feeds my pocketbook than what feeds my soul. 

And the one thing I know for sure; ignoring them does not make them go away.  There are times when I address them, have a real conversation, and they diminish slightly allowing me to move forward in my day. But they have yet to disappear. However tempting, slicing them to ribbons with a mighty sword is not the solution.  So I remain optimistic that there is an answer that will satisfy both the "demon" and my “self.”

Besides, do I really want to be my old self?  A mood-elevating pill might be reasonable … but for now I am going to stay in the observation mode. Becoming the “detached witness” that so many of my teachers have talked about. Realizing that putting oneself under the microscope can sometimes be disturbing. Moving beyond old and into a new way of being is my ultimate goal. 

I choose to have an awareness ~ an allowing ~ of my “demon self.” After all, we we share the same space. 
And I am the one, with consistent help from my angels, in charge of how large the microscope is.
In gratitude I realize that every day I have more moments of pure joy than the day before.  And if I don’t?  I will just start again tomorrow.
Anyway, I have to put down my sword to pick up a cup of Tension Tamer tea. 

IRELAND, a Link to Possibility

I am looking at the girl I was "before" I left for Ireland, the girl who made the trip and the one who returned.  And I want/need/desire there to be a difference.  Please note, I am using the term "girl" very loosely here, but it is early morning and that is how I am feeling. You might understand this better, as time goes on.  {*.*}

In Ireland, the Land seemed to continually whisper to me, "Let it go."  I heard it as I leaned my head into the trunk of an ancient tree or laid my heart upon the earth. I heard it from the moss and the tiny green "villages" I marveled at on the rock walls.  My body pressed the point by becoming constipated and all I wanted to do was "let 'er rip, and let it go".  But even with herbs and massage I was having trouble ... physically letting it go. In ceremony, a shaman stepped in front of me, looked me straight in the eye and said, "Move beyond your fear. Do what you want to do. Be who you want to be."  She smiled at me and in that moment I felt like everything was possible.  Re-member. That is who I want to be now, the woman/child to whom all things are possible.  So be it.

One of the things I let go of on the Isle of Inisfallen, is my proclivity to perfection.  Kind of trips off the tongue, doesn't it?  Proclivity to Perfection.  Ta Da!!!   Well it is not only a pain in the arse, it can be an excuse for not getting things done.  I am thinking of a lovely little blog I wanted to write earlier this year and I saw it accompanied by the perfect picture of my horse. I could easily visualize the whole piece. But the weather outside did not match the message of my blog, so I waited and waited for the perfect conditions.  Then, one morning the weather cooperated and I went out and took a dozen pictures of my adorable horse, frosted from head to tail with shimmery ice crystals. My photos were not as artistic as I had envisioned but they would do. Coming back to my computer I searched for the essay and realized I had never committed the words to paper - waiting for the perfect moment I had never actually written the blog piece - so now I had “okay” pictures and no essay.  I had nothing but a good intention and a lot of dissatisfaction with myself.

If only it ended there ~ but unfortunately this sad story continues. A few weeks later, I did actually "find the time" to write the piece, but it was a sunny warm day and something inside me said that I could not really post a blog about frosty horses on such a beautiful sunny Spring day.  Preposterous!!  Everyone would know it was sunny in Colorado and that this blog piece was not spontaneous.

So now I am beginning to see the flaws in Miss Perfection.  She really only cares about what everyone else will think of her. Anything less than perfection is unacceptable to her ~~ because of what others may think.  But when I let Miss Perfection "drive my bus" … I become constipated … my physical/emotional and spiritual bowels twist up, all forward motion grinds to a halt, and nothing productive is accomplished. 

My need for perfection at all costs, especially as it relates to being judged by others, is a limiting belief that no longer serves me. This part of my personality may have served me at one time but is now coming from a place of fear. That is what I let go of in Ireland. In my search for inner peace, I released fear based limiting beliefs.

As a gestalt coach, I know that I cannot toss Miss Perfection under the bus. Even when I want to, and I do, that is not the answer.  She deserves acknowledgement and acceptance. But I will ask her to sit in the back seat and enjoy the ride, offering up her valid ideas only to help put the polish on a piece; to bring up the luster by loving it into a more complete piece of work we can both live with.

And so now my dear little blog, get ready. I might post about rain during a drought, or feeling good when I don't, or any number of random ideas. And if I think of a fantabulous addition after the fact, I give myself permission to post that as well .... in a non-sequitur manner that would not have been possible BI = Before my magical trip to Ireland.

AI = After Ireland.                                                                                                                                       I claim my Freedom !!
Loving Living Wild in Colorado,
In-Joy !!

How to be a Better Human 101 ... cont... again ....

In the past I have jokingly described my spiritual journey as “How to be a Better Human 101”, placing myself in the freshman class with wide-eyed enthusiasm and an unchecked willingness to experience it all. My goal with every semester is to discern the teachings and assimilate universal wisdom.

For the past two years I have decided to up the ante; sometimes advancing with baby steps, sometimes falling on my bum, but encouraged by the brilliant rays of understanding that sometimes break through the clouds.  My teachers are the horses and those two-legged beings that speak through them, to them and with them.  Completing Melisa Pearce’s program, EGCM, Equine Gestalt Coaching Method was a dream come true; it has been nothing short of amazing.  

My self-study curriculum remains challenging, as on-going lessons should, with several mid-course corrections required, and I ride the roller coaster of accomplishment, failure, self-doubt and joy with utter amazement.  This past week-end’s training with Anna Twinney (Reach Out to Horses) was HUGE.  Surrounded once again by humans and horses I stepped into the arena. 

"I want to open you up.” Anna’s words are still ringing in my ears.  I have a very uncomfortable vision of an old fashioned manual can opener lying beside a tin of sardines, split open via a ragged wound, sharp and possibly dangerous. Worth diving into if you happen to like sardines, but proceed with caution, it is to be handled with care.

This Monday morning I take stock.

Physically, I am beat up, things hurt when I move, a temporary un-comfort-able-ness.

Spiritually, I am standing at yet another precipice, wondering how to get across.

Mentally, I know that we have stood in front of different obstacles before and have eventually figured them out. I take comfort in the absolute knowledge that I have tremendous teachers, marvelous mentors and friendly faces to guide me, stand beside me, and encourage me.

The horses stand out in their pasture, absolutely aware while appearing to dream contentedly in their own little world. But as every thing in the universe is connected, we too are connected. They accept their day, knowing that this journey is my own, but still mindful of my progress.

It will be what it will be. I am not sure where we are going but excited for the journey to unfold.

TROUBLE?

 I woke up way too early this morning.  I plugged myself into a CD to try and get back to sleep but that really didn’t work very well.  I had a serious case of “monkey-mind” that refused to be stilled.  As I lay there I had the thought that I could pour a bath and soak in the healing water as I listened to my CD. And so I did.

In the bath I questioned the partially bruised big toe of my right foot.  It isn’t bad enough to lose the toenail, but I have no idea what happened to it … seems weird.  I broke that toe five or six years ago. I was winter riding with some friends and I stepped my dear horse off the path onto what appeared to be dirt, but was really an icy patch that the wind had blown dirt over. Lakota slipped and in what felt like slow-motion - fell to her side. My friends told me it actually looked very graceful.  But I did not get my leg out of the stirrup in time and she landed on my leg. It didn’t seem like that big of a deal until my toe started throbbing and then I knew we had done some damage.  It was interesting how that fall has come back to me so many times; stepped off the path, time slowed down, falling and falling, things not what they looked like, the right side of my body gets hurt again … ????

The bubble bath was a great way to start the day. Laying there barely aware of the window getting brighter with the coming dawn.  Soaking in the warmth, the water, the bubbles and listening to the gentle voice of one of my teachers on the CD, letting her drown out my mind. 

For you, dear reader, do not know the problem that woke me up at 4:28 am with such fierceness.  Is there a fall in front of me? Will time slow down for me?  Will I have the ability to get my foot out of the stirrup in time to stave off hurtful consequences?  At least I will bring more awareness to this situation and I pray for the grace and beauty and wisdom to stand on the edge of the precipice and be guided through it without any one getting bruised or battered. That is my prayer for this day.

New Years Day – 2012

WOW!!

I have in front of me the cards that I pulled last night. I had settled into a peaceful place, touched the JOY in my life, and invited the “persona” of my new business, On the Wings of a Horse, to join me.  I sent my prayer out to the pasture and touched minds with Lakota and the long eared ones. When I felt the presence of all that is me and then that which is beyond, I asked for guidance, for assistance. I had Melisa Pearce’s Inspirational Card Deck in my hands. Shuffling them four times I thought of my vision, my dream and I opened myself up to the possibilities that i was yet to be aware of.

One card fell out, and I set it aside. It had chosen me but I had not finished my ritual. I cut the deck and there was MYSTICAL. I read it and the tears came.  “The vastness of your purpose and the energies of the universe are before you at this time.  …  Hold that everything is unfolding before you with divine inspiration, in divine time and with divine ease.”  Goddess, I love these cards!!!!  Thank you !!!

And then I read the card that chose me.  ATTENTIVENESS.  “There is a plan laid out before you.  … The path is choreographed and exact.  You are being asked to play full-out and to give your all. “ 

I have never pulled either of these cards before and their message to me was crystal clear.  I fell asleep last night with a smile on my face.  Ask and you shall receive.  So mote it be.

This morning I fed the horses with so much love in my heart that I barely touched the earth. I leaned into them gently and smelled them in deeply.  I am outrageously BLESSED and I give THANKS.

COMFORTABLE WITH “UNCOMFORTABLE”

Learning to be comfortable with being uncomfortable. 

This is a major life lesson for me that I have been peeling away, like layers of the proverbial onion, for many years.  Like an onion, the pure essence of it often brings me to tears and yet I know that if I persevere, render it to smaller pieces, then apply heat with a dollop of soothing oil, a transformation will occur ~ a softening ~ as the pungency caramelizes before my very eyes and is now a sweet concoction that will enhance any recipe that it is added to.

I have rushed the process and ended up with a smoky, bitter mess. And all you can do now is clean up the mess and begin again. One time, when the experiment had gone too far awry, I threw away the ruined pan and left the kitchen.  It may have seemed like the only answer at the time, but in the end it left me hungry.

I am ready to try again; gonna need more onions.

Reciprocity – Just an Idea.

Last Friday night I stood with my class, the Mid Pack, at our graduation ceremony!! Whew!! Almost two years of studying, practicing, and working through our own “stuff” … and we are now certified in the Equine Gestalt Coaching Method !!  The range, depth and potential of this work is awesome.

But I would like to take a moment and acknowledge those who came before me.  Among many other things, the Mid Pack had the outstanding privilege of learning from the Genesis group how to accept new members into this marvelous herd. We learned from their generous example.  It may not have been easy for them to let us in, to transition into a larger herd, but I never once felt that.  Not once. They were outstandingly gracious and accepting of us.

I have been thinking about the rumblings I have heard from new students as we each face our fears and our doubts about this program.  How large is this program going to get? Will there be enough work for me?  I confess that I have had my own doubts, my own dark fears.

I am reminded of a lesson I leaned fifteen years ago in South America. I was studying with a Peruvian shaman and one day he told us a story of his idea of reciprocity. To him and his fellow shamans, if anyone came forward and said they wanted to learn the ancient sacred ways, that teacher had to take them on as a student.  Because it was their understanding that not until each and every human stepped into their highest potential, could any of us ascend to the higher realms.  No one could move forward until every got it!  This idea was new to me and the hugeness of that statement stayed with me ever since. Every time you reach out and help someone up, you are supporting a larger cause.  Plain and simple, we are all in this together.

Then there is the sentiment that my dear friend Patricia offered up one day. She said, “If everyone on the earth was a healer, we would still have tons of work to do!” I don’t even know what she meant, but I know on a cellular level that the words are true.

And so I keep reminding myself of these two little stories. I totally believe that for each one of us to reach our highest potential we need to champion the successes of one another.  By supporting each other with grace and authenticity, we will each find our place.  There are thousands of horses waiting for us to step up to the plate and there are millions of folks who need us when they are ready.

If I had any words of wisdom for those coming into the program it would be this. If you need to compete, as is in my nature, compete with yourself.  Set your goals, keep an open mind, ask questions until you “get it”  and know that you are in a loving herd whose survival depends on your strength of character. We are in this together and it is so outrageously rewarding!!  There is room for all of us. I welcome you to a marvelous adventure.  It will be what you make it to be.

And I know for me this is just the beginning.  I look forward to many more years of studying, practicing, and working through my own “stuff” as I move forward as a practitioner of the Equine Gestalt Coaching Method !! 

Namaste.

The Beginning

I remember standing in front of my kitchen window staring out on the cold January morning. I could see my reflection in the window;  looking out ~ yet looking in.  It was a bright beginning to a new year. My mind was racing with thoughts of the Melisa Pearce’s Touched By A Horse Certification Program.TM   What if this program was the answer to the riddle that had presented itself over and over to me for the past five years. Reading after reading after reading, I had been told that I could work with horses if I wanted to. Wanted To? It is what i wanted to do most in the world! But I could not see what it looked like. I could not visualize it and the women giving me the reading could not answer that for me. They all said, “I don’t know what it means. This is just the information I am receiving.”  

One of my ego’s strongest arguments was the cost. It was pricey and I was having trouble paying my mortgage. That was the most evident problem on this physical plane.  I am not a horse trainer even though my dear sweet horse, Lakota, and I have spent hours and hours in various clinics studying Natural Horsemanship and how to be better partners to one another.  On the other hand, I did truly want to work with people. The last 15 years of running my own appraisal shop has become more and more unsatisfying, financially, mentally, and spiritually. I am ready for a change. But my “Doubting Thomas’ voice is loud in my inner debate. “What if we sign up and spend all this money and then we can’t make a living at it? What if we find out we’re not good enough? What if this is not the answer? What if? What if? What if?”

But a part of me knew. This is an answer. Here is a teacher right in my own back yard. “What if she moved up here from Arizona to be my teacher? What about that…huh?” I asked my Doubting Thomas self. “What if this IS the answer and I’m too scared to go for it?”

The part of me that “knows” smiled at the reflection in the frosty window and whispered, “It will be what you make it to be.  It is up to you, dear one.”  I walked to the phone and left a message with Melisa’s office. That was January 1, 2010.

Today, June 10, 2011, I will graduate with four of my fellow classmates. I would be lying if I said the journey has not been extremely challenging at times. But with help I have walked through my fears; I have acknowledged and moved beyond the nagging doubts ~ and there have been many along the way.  But in every cell of my body I KNOW that this was the answer. I am proud of myself for staying in the program, looking the “what-ifs” square in the face and finding the funds, finding the courage, and finding the stamina to move forward.  With Lakota’s help, and with the horses I sense will be joining us ~ we will make it glorious!!

Once again ~ we are at the beginning!

 

Ode to a Honda

I have been taking my Honda cars to Hoshi Motors for nearly thirty years.  My mechanic has become a dear friend; I have her birthday on my yearly calendar.  February 2009 I was having trouble with my car’s heater and I had them look it over during a routine oil change.  As I stood at the counter they gently explained what a head gasket was, and that Idgey’s was going bad.   I tried to keep up a pleasant banter as I questioned them about what to expect and what did this really mean?  The prognosis was grim, “It could last for two days or another two weeks, but it is going to fail you one day soon. You need to start thinking about a new car.”  I started crying on the road home and I cried for days.

My 1^st Honda was a little light blue station wagon, I have no idea what the vintage was, but it was used when we bought it before my son was born.  Her name was Old Blue.  My 2^nd  Honda was the large square wagon with dark tinted windows; it was blue as well.  It was my office on wheels, had tons of interior space, plus it had high clearance for barreling through the snow.  I always thought of that car as a juvenile delinquent but I loved it.  It was November of 1992 and my family was getting ready to drive to Missouri for Thanksgiving. I took my car to Grease Monkey for a quick oil change the day before we left.  By the time we got to Springfield, Mo the engine was wrecked.  I didn’t know how bad the damage was but I decided to take him to Hoshi as soon as I got home.  We had to add a lot of oil on that return trip.  We found out the engine was blown, but he carried us all the way back to Colorado and delivered us to our doorstep.  I still think of him has Brave Heart. 

I bought Idgey on December 5^th, 1992.  It was the first car I had ever purchased new, 36 miles on the odometer, and Bob talked the dealers into free air conditioning.  She is an opalescent light green, the color of the movie, Fried Green Tomatoes ~ one of my favorite books that they made into an excellent movie.  Idgey was one of the main characters so naming my sporty new car was easy.

To me an automobile is NOT an inanimate object.  Every component of my car is made of metals and plastics ~ which are probably compounds of mixed cellular structures.  She drinks fluids and, on rare occasions, may emit a little gaseous fume.  Even if my theory is weak on facts, my conclusion is the same.  She is my friend; she has a heart and feelings.  She has been there for me in the good times and the bad, in sickness and in health.  She has listened as I sing along to the radio, witnessed my tears and absorbed my anger.  I made up a song for her that I sing every once in awhile.  Every year on my birthday we pretend that it is her birthday as well and we go the car wash and get “the works” inside and out;  I pay extra for a squirt of “new car smell”. 

I can barely imagine life without Idgey.  She takes care of me.  Many years ago, coming across Kansas I-70 on a return trip from my parent’s house, I suddenly felt the power disappear.  In front of me was an off ramp.  Idgey coasted up the ramp, we made a left hand turn over the interstate and finally lost all momentum in front of a pay telephone at a convenience store.  She took care of me ~ there is no other way to describe it.  I called Hoshi, they checked my file and told me what had probably happened and how much it would cost to get it fixed.  When I got back home, I called my insurance agent to ask if I could be reimbursed for the tow truck.  “You didn’t need to pay for that, it is included in your insurance!” he exclaimed.  “It is?” I asked incredulously.  “Nothing ever goes wrong with my car so I didn’t remember that.” 

I have often joked about driving her for 400,000 miles, Hondas have been known to do that and we are well past 300,000 miles now!   Even I know that she is probably no longer safe for long highway trips, but I must tell you that she and I made four trips across Kansas a few years ago as my Fathers health began to fail.  I had other things on mind, to be sure, but I never thought for a second that she wouldn’t get me there and back again. And she did - four times in six months.

It has been more than two years since they told me her time was near.  I keep a very good record of all the antifreeze I add and I religiously watch the heat gauge, it will be one of my first warning signs.  I am still getting over 400 miles per tank of gas and she drives up Boulder Canyon like a trooper.  She is my friend, my ally, my office on wheels.  When her time is really up, I have a phone number of a charity that I can donate her body to, and she will continue to serve as a learning tool for an aspiring young mechanic.  I know that is what she wants.   But for now, I will continue to sing her song for as long as she will listen. 

((written July 6,  2008; revised April 20, 2011 -  blogged today to prepare to receive my new CRV)

Happy St. Patrick’s Day

I poured a can of beer in my crock pot this morning and slid the corned beef in. I love this meal. I love my crock pot slaving away for me all day! I had aimed to get the red-brined beef on sale for the season but when I got to the check-out stand it didn’t ring up at the sale price. The cashier called the meat department for me and we found out that I had picked up the more expensive cut, the flat cut, it was on sale, but not by as much. I thought for a moment and decided to keep it. Living “high on the hog” for one day instead of so “close to the bone” as we have been.

As I cut up my potatoes, carrots and onions to add to the pot, I thought about what happened last night.  I feed my horse Lakota in the smaller paddock because she gets alfalfa and the donkey’s can have only grass hay. I opened the back door to move Lakota to the north pasture so the herd could be together through the night and marveled at how bright it was. The moon isn’t full but it is headed that direction. As Lakota stepped towards the open gate, her head snapped up and her body was taut with pure focus. I looked where she was looking and saw it moving in the corn field. Quiet, dark, large. The silhouette moved with its nose to the ground, looking for a moonlight meal. I am sure it was coyote, not a threat to a full grown horse and I do believe the two mini donkeys could hold their own, but it looked large enough to be a wolf.  I was urging Lakota through the fence so that I could close the gate when I saw my cat. The large white triangle on her chest glowed in the moonlight ~ like a neon sign advertising the “blue plate special.”

I called to her but she seemed frozen in her crouch. Making an executive decision, I snatched her up and moved toward the house. She was not happy. Even on a good day she doesn’t like for me to carry her around; if I pick her up she wants me to stand still. She squirmed violently to position herself so she could keep an eye on the dark predator. I held her firmly and she growled, low and deep, her unhappiness with me. As I neared the door she made another desperate attempt to free herself, but I only tightened down on her, thankful for the coat sleeves between my arms and her claws. I finagled the door open as she continued to struggle. I told her quietly how much I loved her and how happy I was we were both safe inside. Gently I lowered her to the floor. I know that she would have landed on her feet but I did not want her to leap out of my grip and fall to the ground. I stroked her softness as I bent down; I was sure she would rush away from me as she has done in the past. But this time she got her feet underneath her, sat on the tile and looked up at me.

She recognized the difference. I wasn’t holding her down to push a pill down her throat, past those razor sharp teeth, which sometimes makes my heart beat too fast. My intent was different. I had been holding her tightly, with love in my heart my purpose was protection. Now we could both relax in the comfort of our home. She ate a snack before coming into the living room. She plopped up on the couch and lay on my chest as I took a few minutes to wind down from another busy day. It is all about intent.