I’m selling my farm. Well, actually, it belongs to me and my ex, and we’re selling it.
If all goes well, I hope to hear back from a facility that works with horses and challenged kids, and I will be placing my horse partners there, with them. My dear four footed friends, who have shared my life and my love these 9 years…
To say my heart is breaking, doesn’t even come close.
And… at the same time, I feel the call of my own purpose – asking me to take these steps… to actively choose them, and open myself to what is wanting to emerge NOW in my life.
There’s a part of me that is immersed in this process – feeling the loss, grieving, and also getting curious about what is coming next.
And there’s a part of me that sits quietly, watching it unfold.
What surprises me the most, is how precisely this set of circumstances is drawing out old unresolved hurts from way back in my history. Betrayals… lack of belonging… displacement… dreams deferred.
I feel the pull of my own deep knowing, setting up my life so that I have the opportunity to heal.
It’s not enough to take a pass or two at healing that old stuff… there’s a clarity within me that won’t rest until it’s excavated. And my guess is, that this is a lifelong process.
I’m finding compassion for the tug-of-war dance going on inside me – between wanting to rail against the changes, and embracing them.
My own humanness revealed – the selfishness (I want what I want… when I want it), and the light (I want my highest purpose), both.
I’m a tremendously powerful creator. And as I’m creating the dismantling of so much that I love, I have to remind myself that this is a good thing!
In a season of my life when I was still shut down, I called into my life, this farm, my horses, this haven… which has held me, nurtured me, and been the backdrop for my own waking.
And now that waking is calling me on. It called me out of my marriage… out of the old patterns of living small… and now it’s calling me out from my insular life here on the farm.
I don’t know what this next season looks like yet. But when I lean into it, I smile.
I know what it feels like.
And that’s a truer compass than the external landmarks.
I raise my glass now, and toast the journey… to the uncharted waters before me… and the compass of my own heart that calls me to break and heal, with utter abandon.