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A day in the life…

I’m finding my voice and my way through this new world.  I have officially been out of my old corporate job and lifestyle for eight months.  I think I can do this.  I believe I can continue to narrow my focus and thrive.

The other day I spoke with a long lost friend.  We have been in touch, at a distance on social media, but  hadn’t spoken live in ages. “So what are you doing now?” she queried.  At first I was a little miffed.  I feel like I live my life as an open book, literally these days.  Five days a week I post to my blog and my Facebook activity fills in around the edges.  Did she seriously have to ask what I was up to these days?

“I’m the beekeeping-yogi-equestrian-author who is taking hospice classes, remember me?”

Every morning I take my mug of tea and sit by the hive as the sun comes up.  The warm, golden glow heats the colony and slowly the ladies come out to greet the day.  They congregate on the landing board and kibitz.  One will lazily test the wind, followed by another and another, until the front of the hive body is a mass of fuzzy activity.

I wander back up the driveway to the deck at the rear of the house.  The small fountain is splashing gently and the breeze is playing a solo on the tall pine trees; they sigh as I seat myself on my mat, turn off my mind, and stretch my body to the sun.  (OK, truth disclaimer here.  I do “baby yoga” for half an hour to the same DVD every time.)

It’s still cool in my loft office at this hour so I set my mind to the blog topic of the day and spend an hour editing and tweaking my piece. The words flowed like honey yesterday afternoon.  All that remains is to shape and mold the thoughts into the finished work.  I prepare for a call with the publisher to hammer out the cover design.  This is the fun part, I think.  A fear of finishing the project now looms in the corners of my mind.

Mid-morning, I slip into my britches and boots; heading out the door for the two mile drive to the barn. The road is sparsely populated and wildlife spotting is not unusual.  I brake gently at one particular turn, there is a beehive in the field off to the right.  I don’t know why I feel the need to slow down, there is never much change and you can’t see the bees from the road.  It just feels reverential to drive by slowly.

I never seem to get there before my riding buddy, Lauren.  We stand for a few moments in the barnyard to chat, before heading off in different directions.  My mares are pastured up the hill.  Lauren’s mare, Blessing, is out front.  If I’m planning on exercising Night, I will take my helmet.  We saunter, bareback and bridleless back down to the yard, with Night snacking on the tall blades of grass along the way.

I no longer concern myself with conditioning Night for Events.  Our rides these days are calm and slow by contrast. A year ago I was taking regular lessons, practicing my dressage test religiously and running a conditioning route I had laid out in the woods.  These days I feel no pressure to compete against the clock and my best previous performance.

Back to the office to capture the sights and sounds, the slight impressions of my day into the digital scrapbook of my computer.  I may have photos to critique or a theme to capture in words.  My mind is clear and I have set this time aside to write and create.

Late afternoon, I succumb to the need for a shower and a fresh start.  Cleansing away the dust and sweat, I revive myself.  If it is Monday, I dress and head down the narrow roads to my Hospice class.  My route home again will include a leisurely drive by the field at the top of the hill, and the chance to watch the sun set over my surrounding mountains.

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