Coming soon…

I recently entered into a coaching circle with my fellow Touched by a Horse grads. As a result, I’ve been putting a lot of thought into my business and it’s many faces. I’ve been revisiting my values and making sure they are reflected in my website. I’ve finally named my place here in Wyoming. After much though, the land and I agreed on Stonegait Manor. I’ve committed to taking my Paso Fino stallion, Viajero, to the Wyoming Equine Extravaganza where I’ll be able to market my business. Gulp, that’s a big one for an introvert gal like me! And finally, I’ve been working on and planning for a womens group. This has been especially hard for me because honestly, I don’t like being around most women. And yet, here I am part of a blog consisting of all women bloggers, posting to a site entitled Women Move it Forward, a graduate from a program that is made up of mostly women! OK, Universe, message received loud and clear!

Let me go back to my statement that I don’t like being around most women. It’s true. It’s authentic . “Most” women are not authentic. They are selfish, conceited, self serving, competitive, gossipy, back stabbing, moody, judgemental and untrustworthy. Society is partially to blame for this. I believe that as women entered the professional workforce and began competing against men for jobs they stopped embracing the uniqueness that made them women. Being emotional was a weakness – You’re being hormonal. Being vulnerable was a weakness – You’ll become a target. Being nurturing was a weakness – You aren’t strong enough.

Get the point? I’m sure there are a number of other reasons why this shift has happened. The overall result is a shift away from everything that women are authentically. We are suffering. Society is suffering.

Women’s circles and gatherings are an ancient tradition. There are many places in the world that this still happens. Those cultures and tribes are stronger because of them. As I continue to tap into my own past and ancestory, I am drawn to that ancient feminine wisdom. It guides me. It drives me to seek out other like-minded women. It demands that I take on the leader role, like the alpha mare, and create that space where none exists. A safe space to embrace our “weaknesses” and be emotional ,vulnerable, and nurturing. A space where women share stories, to listen and to be heard. A space where women tap into sacred feminine wisdom and remember where they came from. A space to share laughter and tears without judgement. Together we are stronger and we will heal the broken bonds.

Cooking soon at Stonegait Manor, brought to you by Through the Horse…

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Finding Outlets for Collective Rage

I’ve found an outlet for my collective rage. Thank God. And by collective rage, I mean the righteous anger that arises within me on behalf of all womankind every time I hear a #metoo story, every time I hear a woman’s voice being dismissed, and every time I hear that power is being wielded blindly, ignorantly and malevolently to exacerbate human suffering.

Since the inauguration of the 45th President, my insides have been slowly boiling. I’ve written letters and called my representatives, I’ve connected deeply with friends and family who share my pain for what is happening in our country and I’ve done my fair share of yelling and screaming to release myself from the grip of my outrage. But the news keeps on coming and our society now is beginning this simultaneously beautiful and horrific purging associated with the #metoo and #time’s up movements. And yet power structures continue to perpetrate grave injustices against people of color, immigrants, children and women. Reasonable people disagree as the lines between opinion and fact are blurred and certainty is valued over curiosity and compassion.

You know. We’re all living this upheaval in which we are disgusted and horrified on a near daily basis to hear stories of powerful individuals, primarily white men, who have used power to do harm. We all meet this moment with a reckoning based on our personal experiences, our personal stories and our empathy for our sisters (and brothers). We’re all finding our ways to actively engage, purposefully disengage, and to cope.

As a highly sensitive person with a stubbornly idealistic streak, my walk of this path has been a shaky one. Six months ago I joined a women’s boxing gym called Jabz and fell fully in love. Hitting heavy bags to loud music while surrounded and cheered by women has become key to my self-care. There are women there of every shape, size and age, all together to work out, punch stuff and feel good about themselves.

While listening to a podcast by Danielle LaPorte the other day (side note: I highly recommend her podcasts on sacred activism and sacred living) I was struck by her take on rage and the value of bringing your righteous rage to your practice, be it yoga, meditation, running, hiking or what have you.

“Devote that physical movement to a cause…use your body as a sacred tool,” Danielle LaPorte.

I realized that this is exactly what I’ve been doing at Jabz. As I hit those bags with my rage, it releases, and the fire of that anger takes on the shape of love and faith—a fervent, strident, insistent faith in the prevailing power of love and the ability of love to conquer all.

This practice has been essential in empowering me to be more fully engaged and to take the actions that both stir my soul and contribute to the collective good.

What self-care practices have supported your sacred activism in the last year? I want to hear!

Growth – a Never Ending Process

Tags

animal communication, Animals, Coaching, Horses, power

From Ashara Morris, one of the bloggers on this site:

Last night I attended a women’s networking group in Denver, sponsored by one of the coaches I’ve worked with over the years. Let me digress for just a moment to say that I own my own business, and it has taken me a while to put on the CEO hat and really own the fact that I own the business. But I still don’t feel that much like a CEO. In my mind, that’s Howard Schultz, the CEO of Starbucks, or some other high-powered executive. My little 1 person show often, in my mind, doesn’t seem like it should even require a CEO. But that’s my title – along with Pet Psychic, certified EGCMethod(r) Coach, and Reiki Master. Many hats. The CEO one still doesn’t fit too well, but I’ve recently started embracing it a teeny bit more.

But back to that gathering. It is a group of executives and CEO entrepreneurs who are really making a difference in the world. The movers and the shakers, as it were, at least here in Denver. When I heard about it, I felt like that wasn’t my group of people, and I wasn’t going to go. Then I talked with a few women with whom I’d spent a year in a Mastermind. One has a business that is doing really well. A couple are still in startup mode. One is retiring from her day job the middle of February. All of them were attending. I gave this some more thought. My resistance was really up, and that’s when I realized I actually needed to attend. My inner gremlins were trying to keep me safe by telling me this was not my tribe. Well, let’s just set that gremlin straight. I paid my money, found something CEO-ish in my closet to wear, and headed to Denver.

I was easily the oldest woman in the room. That felt….strange. I’d never given it much thought before, but last night I noticed. (Oh, it’s the old lady gremlin!) When I arrived, I was given my name badge and told about the two stars on the front, that denoted the table I was to sit at to start the evening (color coded, very creative) and the one I would sit at for the break out session. I spoke with my friends, and the strangers at my table. I’m sure my vibe was a little off. After all, I’m “just” an animal communicator. This was, once again, those dang gremlins trying to keep me safe. And getting louder.

The breakout was in two parts. I got a glass of water and sat at what I thought was my designated table. But it wasn’t. Round one was back at the original table. I don’t know what it was about that, probably my “you must be PERFECT” gremlin, but I was mortified. I felt like an old lady who couldn’t keep a simple instruction in her head, and at the same time like I was 5 years old and couldn’t keep a simple instruction in my head. WOW. Thing is, I know what I was told at the door, and it didn’t jibe with what was actually happening. But rather than decide “oh well, it was just a misunderstanding” I folded into myself and was so upset I was almost in tears. Geeeeez.

Then a fairly good thing happened. At our table, we said what we did, what our hopes and dreams are for 2018, and then what the people at the table could help us with. I did that. I explained about how I help people understand their animals, how I wanted to change as many pet/people relationships as possible in 2018 and teach other people to do what I do, and then asked for help around the confidence to step into a lot of money coming my way. A woman at the table started asking about the problems I work on and the solutions I use. What? In the past, I would have been “the good girl” and just let her give me advice I didn’t really need. Last night, I stopped her, told her I did have a problem/solution statement (which was not what we were talking about), and that the help I was looking for was for my INTERNAL dialogue. The CEO in me pushed aside the gremlin who would have just let me sit there like a lump, very briefly raised her head and did what was needed to bring the conversation back to my actual appeal for help.

The bottom line: I will probably go again. It was uncomfortable hanging out with all that power, because I’m not used to it. But I won’t get used to it if I don’t hang out with it. On an empowerment call the next day, someone in the group posted this about someone else lamenting her many gremlins: “They get louder the closer you get to your own greatness.”

I must be getting close.

Ashara Morris is the CEO of Harmony’s Heart LLC, of which Harmony’s Heart Animals is a part. Learn more about her and the way Harmony’s Heart is changing the world at http://www.harmonysheartanimals.com / http://www.harmonysheartcoaching.com / http://www.thewindriderproject.com

God is here, God is near.

God is here, God is near; posted by Barbara B. a co-writier of the Women Move it Forward Blog

This past month has been a whirlwind for me as for much of the nation. Hurricanes, fires, drought, floods and other natural disasters occurred disrupting our day to day lives. Politicians that were “mean spirited, uncaring and dispassionate” began to seem like the norm. And if I were to only read or hear the news I’d think our society was on the brink of disaster.

Yet during this stressful time, what I observed was love, care and helpfulness. Neighbors helping neighbors. Strangers giving a gallon or two of gas to another in need.  Houses opening up for the ones unable to find a roof over their head. Humanity, the basic need to get along and help each was alive and well. I can report that it is not gone. Human kindness is a condition of the heart that cannot be dictated or directed by the government.  I thank God for that.

I prepared for Irma, a category 2-4 hurricane coming to visit me in central Florida. There was no welcome mat laid out for her but if she landed on my doorstep I wanted to be ready.  I had plenty of water, set my water troughs under the barn roof so they would collect the runoff for livestock water (and bathing water),  canned beans, fruits and vegetables, snacks, dog and horse food. I filled my bathtub with a bladder for fresh water, had extra solar lights for night time luminescence, batteries and gas for the generator. Windows were covered with plywood and all material not tied down was in the garage or barn. I only wished that the worst of the storm would hit in the daylight, as I have a fear of tornados and did not want to experience them while in the dark.

The storm started up around 8:00 pm and not much later our electric was out. That is when I leaned my radio did not work, even with fresh batteries, so I was unable to receive current forecasts. For me that was the worse, not knowing what was going on or how long it was expected to last. I did know that they had predicted the eye of the storm to come over us around 5:30 in the morning and so I waited. During the hurricane, we would have brief lulls from the wind and rain. During such times, when I was able, I ran outside to check on the animals, the large oak trees near the house and the transformer pole at the roadside. During one of these lulls, I heard the tree frogs (peepers) start to croak a song. I thought I had heard them before but paid them little attention.

Wikipedia – green tree frog

As they got louder and louder, the toads, frogs and peepers all started singing a crazy chorus.  In unison with a definite rhythm and beat. As soon as they stopped the sideward rain and whipping hurricane winds would come at us full force again.  This continued throughout the night. Wind, rain, quiet and then the loud ruckus of the peepers and frogs.  At some point during the night, I said to myself, what are they saying? And in an instance I knew. “God is here, God is near”; over and over again. In that sing-song croaking baritone with one outdoing the other they shouted their message.  As the storm pressed on, branches and limbs flew by, rain pelleted the windows and I would say to myself, calming my nerves and heart, “God is here, God is near”. This is how I got through the night till dawn, counting my blessings and singing their song.

Was the hurricane difficult. Yes. Did the 12+ inches of rain make a mess? Yes. Was it unbearable, horrible, miserable? No. All I had to do was look around and see others in much worse straights than me. I’d repeat to myself “God is here, God is near” and count my blessings, one by one.  Yes I had extra work, trees down and fences to mend.  Yes, it was hot and humid. Yes there were animals to move to water and others to take in because their owners could not care for them. Yes, I had a mess, but that was all it was. And after 5 days I could drive to town for gas and go to the library to catch up on email or make phone calls. The calls I made were not to just chit-chat. They were to catch up with others and see how they were faring. What could I do to assist and how could I lend a helping hand?

 

Later, I saw hundreds of telephone and power linemen working around the clock. We brought them food and what water we had to say thank you. I learned it took 3-4 days to get down here because the roads were so crowded and many of them slept in their trucks too tired to go to a motel.  I saw neighbors helping neighbors and heard chain saws buzzing throughout the night.  When our generator went out, our neighbor brought an extra one they had to try and keep our freezer going.  That did not work but then a friend said she had a whole house generator and an empty freezer and I was more than welcome to fill it.  In the process I supplied them with plenty of meat for their family and friends that evacuated from the storm.

I was without electricity for 6 days. I was without phone service and internet for over two weeks. Yet the day after the hurricane, as I was picking up branches, there on a fence post was a pecan that had recently been shucked and eaten by a squirrel. Was this another sign to me? Was nature saying, get on with life, count your blessings and aren’t we lucky to do so? Yes, I said as I bowed my head to mother nature in all her wisdom.

I learned that talking to, sharing what you have and helping each other is the best way to get through a storm. I suspect it is the best way to get through any mess that life throws you. Oh, and don’t forget to count your blessings and listen for the song of the wild, God is here, God is near.

Barbara is a Equine Gestalt Coaching Method practitioner,  a retired Professional Engineer and Qi Gong Instructor as well as owner/operator of Wayfinding With Horses, LLC, (WWH.biz). But mostly she is a woman who loves and listens to nature and her horses and shares their wisdom with others. She offers clients the opportunity to find and align their inner compass through an experiential process where they choose to move forward, heal and fully engage with life. Barbara works at Wayfinding Farm, located near Ocala Florida. 

 

Heartfull Intention

The other day I had an incredible ride out near Orange Lake. My girlfriend and I were trotting along, experiencing the sights, sounds and beautiful vistas of winding dusty trails set between long leaf pines, views of sparkling water and sweeping boughs of moss floating off the branches of the live oak trees. The birds, squirrels, hawks, turkeys and occasional snake were also venturing out, tasting spring’s promise. It was magical and definitely full of  surprises.

Joan and I talked about how life sometimes seems to go so smoothly and then takes a turn for the worse and we often don’t know why. At times we take life’s ups and down with grace but other times it is fraught with anxiety. We give and share but it doesn’t always work out like we hoped. With age, we agreed, we’ve become better at recognizing what is important, how not to be attached to outcomes and more often than not navigate troubled waters. Yet, we can still be surprised at the unanticipated outcome.

The gift we receive when giving, receiving or sharing with no expected outcome, is magical. Just like my ride.  It is a “gift” that fills our life and creates happiness. The “gift” verses the “act” of sharing, giving and receiving works best when there are no strings attached. When we allow “surprise” to become an active part of our life and no longer feel the need to try to control the outcome. We feel buoyant as joy bubbles up.

I believe that when a gift or present is given fully with no expectation as to the outcome, the response the receiver gives is always correct. How or why we provide nurturing, teaching, loving, caring, cherishing or helping others influences the marginal, mediocre, average, good or fantastic outcome.  I wonder; does the the act of giving with expectations tarnish or affect the outcome?  

I thought about this all the way home after my ride. When I ventured out that morning for the trail ride, my only “goal or present”, share friendship, enjoy Mother Nature and spend some time with my horse. I did not intend to judge, instruct nor be attached to any particular outcome.  My experience was to be as it was to be. It was to be right, even if the mosquitoes were worse than anticipated, the weather a bit too warm or my horse more anxious that I expected due to all the activity in the woods. And yes, as it turns out, I had an amazing morning.

By freely sharing time, helping or reaching out to one another (animal or human) from the heart a deep sense of connection, calmness, healing, love surrounds us. And what happens when we “give, share or accept” with a hidden, not a heartfull , agenda?  What ensues when we give “freely” yet harbor an expected outcome? Have you ever given your child or friend a special treasure from your past, only to be disappointed that they did not cherish it as you expected (now I’m not talking about “good manners, politeness, etc.)? The act of giving may have been sincere, but the belief deep down that you should have received a reciprocal gift, such as the gift of gratitude or thankfulness, often leaves a bad taste. Did you become disappointed or resentful because you did not get what you wanted from the “act” of giving and did this in turn then tarnish the initial present?

The process of sharing, giving or accepting a gift from someone does not have to be difficult or create unhappiness when it comes from the heart with no strings attached. The horses teach me this. They share their gift of love and beauty with no expectations. Just like when I am grooming them or massaging their backs. When I offer thru love, yes I’d like to improve their coat or stiff muscles, but a tallied end result is not necessary. It is the process of giving love that I want them to feel and be part of. When I remove my expectations, I have no tension or pressure in my hands or heart. I work on them from the heart of giving. I am not attached to the fact that they will look, feel or be better when I am completed. Although I am pleased and often surprised when they are. I accept their honest feedback. Either way I know I did my best, gave them my love and somehow they know this. Removing burdens or expectations during the process of giving, receiving and sharing seems to create a deeper bond, trust and connection. That is my reward, if one has to name it, but again I do not expect it. My gift is pure, so is theirs.

Try out this little method.

1. When you give, share or accept an invitation, do it with a full heart from a heartfull place.
   1. Check in with yourself.
      1. Did you give or accept the gift graciously but secretly attach a “what’s in it for me”?
      2. Did you not tell the recipient of the their obligation or hidden payment?
         1. The tell-tell secret is this, if after your acceptance, shared experience or intent is complete; do you feel
            1. resentment
            2. disappointment
            3. envious
            4. bitterness
            5. sadness
            6. frustration

                  If yes to any of the above feelings, re-check into your heart. Discover the real reason or intent that you gave, shared accepted an invitation. Don’t be surprised because, quite honestly, sometimes we ourselves don’t even recognize that we have a hidden agenda or secrete expectations. It may be a habit or something we learned, but it can be unlearned. Start over, check in with your heart and it’s fullness.

1. Try again and this time ask if your are fully accepting, sharing or giving from your heart.
   1. Make this a habit. Check into your heart. Identity and verify your real intent. Is it with pure “love” (compassion, care, help, succor, support, etc.) for another?
      1. How will you know?
      2. You’ll feel
         1. happy,
         2. fulfilled
         3. satisfied
         4. content
         5. pleased

Your normal delightful and wonderful life will again unfold. Stress, concern and control will no longer be an outcome and the magic from your heartfull intention will happen.

 Barbara is a certified EGCM®life coach. She, along with her husband, dogs, cats, horses and cows, live at Wayfinding Farm, located near Ocala Florida. Wayfinding with Horses, LLC is a coaching service designed to help you achieve personal growth and development. Using the Equine Gestalt Coaching Method (EGCM®), Barbara supports you as you explore, discover and connect to the possible. For more information go to WWH.biz or Wayfindingwithhorses.com Call/text Barbara at 352-804-4224.

 

Transition

Recently, I went to my home town in Wisconsin to say my goodbyes to my mother. She was almost 92. She had been ill before, but there was something about this situation that told me it was time to take action and go home for a couple of days.

Mom and Future Me 1950

The last time I saw her was in July 2016, and we had a beautiful visit. She was feeling good, and in fact when I showed up at the Brookdale facility she wasn’t even there – she had gone on an outing for a few hours to a music event. She was a huge music lover, and sang with the local Sweet Adelines barbershop music group for many years, in addition to the church choir and, probably, the shower. I came back later, and she even recognized me, but not until she heard my voice – I’ve been gone from my home town for 40 years, and in that time we’ve seen one another in person off and on, but it has mostly been letters and phone calls. Since her memory has been faulty the last few years, I was grateful that she recognized my voice and we were able to have a lovely time together. The year before, she hadn’t known me.

Christmas 1962

While I was in town, I decided to see the movie “A Dog’s Purpose”. I actually had several movies on my list to chose from, and was hesitant to go to this one in particular – when I first saw the movie trailer I cried from start to finish because the subject resonated with me so strongly, and I didn’t want to spend two hours sobbing and then go visit my ailing mom – but it kept beckoning to me. I listened to my intuition, and spent a couple of hours with a reincarnating dog.

It was exactly what I needed. As an affirmation of my belief system, it was priceless, and helped me immeasurably to cope as I bore witness to the beginning of my mom’s transition. I sat and read to her, even though she was pretty much unconscious, and during that time I was very aware of three beings at the foot of her bed, keeping a silent and invisible vigil. I thanked them for being there and felt comforted.

Christmas 1986

My brother arrived in the early evening and we sat and talked, more deeply than we have in some time. I’ve always kept my “special gifts” under a bushel basket with my immediate family, because we were raised in a very practical fashion and woo-woo wasn’t really part of our training growing up. However, in recent months I’ve been more who I really am with my family than ever before. This evening was no exception. I told my brother about the beings I had seen. He remarked that he had never seen anything like that, and he almost sounded regretful about it. I also found out that he, like me, had grown up with a pretty massive fear of dying. I’m not sure where that came from for us, but how interesting that we would reveal this fear to each other while our mother was doing exactly that. As we’ve gotten older, the fear has subsided somewhat. There are times when I can feel some curiosity about the “next thing”, and even hope. He feels the same way.

As we prepared to leave for the night, I stroked mom’s hair and marveled at how soft and silky it was. I’ll never forget that. Her body was failing, but her hair was like angel floss. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised.

Me, best friend Judy (mom’s daughter from another mother), and mom circa 2014

The next morning, my brother called me early to say that mom had passed during the night. It was as though she had waited for the two of us to be present at her side, our little family, and for peace and love to surround her. She knew her kids would watch out for one another; her job at last was complete.

Mom defied family convention by saying that she wanted to be cremated, and her ashes spread over the farm where she spent the last almost-50 years of her life. No pine box for her! She loved that place, and I feel so grateful that it has remained in our family; my nephew lives there now, with his wife and children. It is a great place to grow up. I’ll travel back in the Spring, when the flowers are blooming and the trees coming to life, to join in the ritual of finalizing mom’s wishes.

My family was conventional but weird in its own way. My mom, who looked like the epitome of conventionality, chose her exit in a way that was totally unconventional to her upbringing. She had an open mind, a wisdom about her, a hands-off way of loving her children once we were grown, that I strive to emulate. All she ever wanted was to have a passel of kids – she ended up with two, and filled in the big family gaps with my cousins and the neighbors. Everyone loved coming to our house. Her heart was huge, and I always enjoyed having her come with me on my teenage adventures (yes, I did, and I invited her!) She was fun without ever losing sight of the fact that she was the mom. I always felt safe.

As I grew to adulthood and moved away, she let me go, but she never, ever judged me or stopped loving me, even when my life was chaos, sometimes heartache, a revolving door with men and husbands, as I strove to find myself. She treated every one of the people I dragged home with respect and love. I’m sure she was as pleased as I when I finally grew up enough to realize that I deserved all of the happiness I’ve found with my husband of 26 years, Glenn. It took me quite a while to get there, but she always hung in and cheered me on from the sidelines. She was the Best. Mom. Ever.

Rose Gertrude Zauner Neuens – Born November 5, 1925 – passed to the next life January 27, 2017. Fly with the angels, mom.

Glenn, me, and my wonderful, wacky, wise mama

 

To Be Free, Is To Let Go

To Be Free, Is To Let Go

Thanksgiving dishes have been put away and the turkey, stuffing and pie are gone.

We gave thanks for peace, blessings of memories and what is to be.

Reds and greens have replaced the yellows and oranges of my favorite holiday.

Nature too is making a change and does not ponder what will be.

The easy bend of spring, the frills of summer and the vibrant display of autumn,

Are played out like a breath …  deeply inhaled, held and released.

Her golden hues that danced in the sun and cast deep shadows under the super moon are waning.

Whether it is a gentle breeze or a stiff wind that brings you down swirling to the ground, it does not matter.

The finery is to no longer displayed, exposing long limbs bare and smooth,

With deep roots, like a dark secret, they hold fast in the hard unyielding ground.

While her heart beats slower with a knowing of calm warmth held deep within.

Nature prepares for her liberation, for the season of letting go, for the release of burdens and hidden meanings.

To hold on is pointless and will surely only bring longing and sorrow and letting go provides a space for new growth and promises.

It is to be, to be free is to let go.

I too am feeling the urge to be freed. It has been almost three years since I left my engineering career and turned to a true passion of living, loving and being with horses. I immediately set up a coaching business upon leaving my profession of 35 years. I have kept informed, learned many new lessons, attended classes, meant new friends, sent out flyers, created websites, supported women, their families and children as they passed onto a new awareness and life phase. I have carefully constructed my days and nights to a never-ending motto of self-improvement. But now in the quiet of midnight and the hooting a lone owl, I feel I am waking up.

I look around at what has been accomplished. The dream I harbored for so long has essentially come true. It is good and fulfilling. Yet somehow it lacks in description of who I’ve been, am or will become. Like the Thanksgiving feast recently consumed and gone, I am no longer. Knowing this provides me with a deep sense of yearning once again to find myself. To need less and love more, to do less and be more, to see less and observe deeply, to hear less and find peace in the inner sanctum of quiet. Many have written about this phenomenon, this tiding up of the soul, mind and spirit at the coming of a great change. The power of giving away, recognizing less is more and finding comfort in being part of the circle. Yes I am waking up, to less is more and to the awareness that “To be free is to let go.”

I’ll let you know how this goes. Maybe it is a phase or a passing thought. Either way, it is who and where I am, at this moment.  If you have or are experiencing similar shifts in awareness or feel on the edge of something very exciting, yet a bit frightening, I’d love to hear your story.

Barbara is a certified EGCMethod® practitioner, life and emotional fitness coach. She created Wayfinding With Horses, LLC to assist women in transition and searching to re-discover their sense of well being, balance and connection. When unexpected events such as divorce, empty nest, retirement or loss occur, it is easy to get lost. Join us at Wayfinding Farm and take a journey using your own internal compass for guidance, feel safe, heard and complete at you look inside and not to external distractions for answers.  Barbara lives with her husband,  horses and cows at Wayfinding Farm, located in “horse” country, near Ocala Florida. For more information go to Wayfindingwithhorses.com (WWH.biz) or call/text Barbara at 352-804-4224.

My Hair, Part II

Remember that story about Samson and Delilah? Delilah cut off all of Samson’s hair, with the result that Samson became a wimp. Well, he lost all of his strength, or something like that. Anyway, it changed him. Something similar happened to me when i cut off all of my hair.

Last time, I wrote about my childhood (and still) best friend, Judy, and how she is going through chemo to help her recover from breast cancer. So in support, I had my long hair buzz cut.

After a few weeks’ growth

There are some interesting things about this ongoing experience. Firstly, I’m not bald, like she is (although she reports her downy fuzz is back and this time, she’s leaving it alone – you’ll just have to read the other blog to know what that means) – event at the very tightest setting on the clippers, I still had stubble. It was like a two-day growth of beard on my head.

However, with all my luxurious locks laying on the salon floor, I did feel something. Like Samson, I felt weak. Vulnerable. As if there could be something wrong with me. I didn’t want people to see me without hair because it felt like they would think there was something wrong with me. I used to get stares and then (usually) smiles, because my hair had some crazy colors in it. I think people smiled because they, too, wished they had colorful hair. Right after my extreme hair cut, I did go out a few times just wearing a baseball cap on my buzz-cut head. People started, and then quickly looked away. And I felt….sick. Like I was sick because I had no hair.

Interestingly, as my hair grew (and unlike friend Judy, my hair didn’t pause to think about it while digesting the whole chemo process – it grew with a vengeance), I started to feel better. My spirits rose in direct proportion to the length of the stubble. Imagine that. It told me a lot about what might be going through the mind of someone who did not have a choice about what their hair did, or looked, at least at first.

Latest Buzz cut – and if you look closely, I have a “birthmark” type thing on this side – Judy, it’s like yours!

I’ve had it cut back twice now since the original cut. That initial feeling of weakness hasn’t returned, probably because I know how quickly it will be long stubble rather than short. I often go out in just a baseball cap, especially if I’m merely making a quick trip to the bank or grocery, and people still stare and look away, but it no longer bothers me.

Judy’s last nasty chemo session, if all goes according to schedule, will be September 21, and then we’ll both start growing our hair out again. I look forward to new “do’s” over the coming months.

I will admit to enjoying my really, really short hair. It’s easy to keep clean, dries in a jiffy, and doesn’t flop into my eyes. I wonder if Samson felt that way, too. Did he realize his strength was not in his hair, his outward appearance, but within himself? Did he start to enjoy the freedom his short hair gave him? What I wish for anyone who, through no choice of their own, has to endure an outward change like no hair on their head, is this realization: Within you is incredible Strength. Love. Peace.

Always.