Vianca and Barbara on back

Now that I have more “time” on my hands, friends often ask what do I do with all of it? I respond as most retirees “I’ve never been busier” and “I don’t know where all the time goes”. I began to wonder about the phase “time fly’s when you’re having fun.” It really does seem to be true. Could it be that because I am choosing what I love to do and whom I’m around, I’m propelled into a state of mind of constant amazement and wonder? And if I am doing what I love or “having fun” then time should fly.

I am busy with my new work, caring for family and others, volunteering, spending time with my grandchildren at a speed that is not rushed. I wake up early, anticipating the day. I go out to the horses, clean stalls, groom and hear the quiet drumming of the fans as the humidity and temperature ramp up. I choose early morning because it is still cool enough to get outdoor tasks done. I get to hear the singing birds at daybreak. I go into the house during midday heat and complete inside routines before venturing back outside when the frogs start croaking their symphony at dusk.

Recently I had the privilege of having my grandchildren visit for three weeks. They are 11 and 8, the best of best of age. They are old enough to go out into the pasture or forest and explore without being constantly watched. Often I’d find them talking with the horses in the middle of field, their tails swishing and ears soft and the children’s faces fully animated and happy. Their visit reminded me that time was not my master or theirs during the long summer days. The sunrise, sunset and their tummy’s grumbling for food, were how we gaged the day. One morning the youngest asked me why I “worked” so hard on the farm and I just had to laugh. I explained, the “work” I do is totally by choice, it is not dreadful nor am I slogging through the day. Because I care for my home, farm, family, friends and of course the horses, I do the best for them that I can do. We talked about what it meant to care for each other and the effort it takes. Some people call my efforts “work” or a “job” but I call it “giving” which sometimes takes great effort and requires sweaty exertion but other times can be peaceful and life sustaining.

This started a discussion about what was work and why was it “yucky” according to the youngest. Work, I was told, was what you had to do, not what you wanted to do, like folding clothes and cleaning. What if you wanted to work, I asked, what would you call it then? He did not know. What I do is not drudgery or duty because I choose to have a family and farm where others can enjoy horses and country life. Is it hard? Yes. Do I get tired? Yes. But the effort is well worth the outcome. I’ve been able to carve out a space where energy and life cooperates and thrives. It is not forced or coerced. I honor the ground, the trees, the tools we have been given to cultivate the land and all of God’s creatures. I show gratitude by taking care of what I have been given and feel blessed that I am able to care for it. To me it is not “yucky work” but a gift that I have been given so I can give to others.

In no time my quiet home turned into a whirl wind of disarray after the grandchildren arrived. I did not want them to “work” or have fights about taking care of their things, so I kept the conversation about work and caring going. As we brushed the horses till they shined and sweep the barn floor, leaving a neat and tidy space to return to, we saw visible evidence that place or space was loved and respected. “I wonder”, I said, “What happens when we go to the house and see shoes and clothes on the floor? What would be a good way to show respect and care for the space that shelters us, our home, like we did at barn?”. I asked them the third morning of their visit if they could sense how the space inside our home felt? Did it feel treasured and tended to or messy and abandoned?”  The youngest said it probably felt like a droid or dork, unloved and unable to see when we don’t care for it. The older one was silent for a moment and then she said,” if we let the inside space know it is loved as much as the outdoors, then it would always be happy, creating a special place for us”.

This conversation lasted for many days. We talked about the space we live in and the container that holds our space or body. We questioned the best way to show we loved and cared for our body, our home and our environment space. The kids really got into this. They said the sink was happier if cleaned out after brushing their teeth and they felt better as well. We talked about our own internal “engine” and what happens if we give it sludge or high-octane fuel to burn? They said that by choosing good things to eat they showed the spaces inside their respect. Soon, cleaning and straighten their room became a simple task each morning and I was getting reports of their “bed” energy and how the space felt best when the sheets were clean and straight, not rumpled or messy.

So in a short few weeks, simple every day “work” turned into a fun experience as we cared for our space. The time slipped by quickly, so I knew we were on the right track. I’m not saying that everything was spick and span and there were a few squabbles but overall the energy flowed easily. Space chores were done quickly. Dishes were put in the sink, clothes were hung up and floors were swept often, leaving the home a nice place to return to after our time out.

We discovered that by caring for our space and not wasting energy opposing what was to be done, the space gave us an incredible gift. The gift of more space or was it time? A beautiful spell seemed to transcend and time either expanded or lingered in the space that we cherished and cared for. We found we were doing more but not at a feverish pitch. Laughter came easier and more frequent. There were no reminders to put dirty clothes away or wash hands. Our space was cared for and in return it nourished our spirits, mind, body and souls. We sang, swam, raced against the wind, became still as we watched humming birds, rode, told stories and listened to rain with ease. We were able to fully engage and enjoy each other. Time did fly and I’m glad it did, because we all had the wings and presence to fully enjoy our days and nights together.

My wish for you is that you take wing and find a way to fly with time as it expands and spins through space. For me time flying is a prime indicator that I’m loving, caring and sharing life, and I hope the same for you. Till next time,

Flying with Time,


Barbara is a certified EGCM life and wellness coach. She along with her husband, dogs, cats, horses and cows live at Wayfinding Farm, located near Ocala Florida. For more information about her life coaching business, Wayfinding with Horses, please view, or join her on Facebook.