The Cowgirl Blessing
May your horse find you
whether you walk on concrete in the city
push a lawnmower in the suburbs
wake on a farm to feed chickens
May you find yourself with a curry brush in your hand
stroking her strong golden back,
her sorrel back or painted back
placing your hand on her belly where she is with foal
May you pick the dirt and poop out of her hooves
making sure there are no pebbles to trouble her
May her legs be healthy and strong,
her hooves trimmed and cared for, her teeth floated regularly
May you be able to ride her wherever your heart wishes
Green and blue mountains, sandy beaches,
well-tended arenas with safe footing
May you stay in the saddle
if or when a rattlesnake is found coiled by the trail,
a coyote tries to play a trick
or a deer dashes across your path
May you breathe in the sun
and exhale your worry and smile at it, with generosity
May you ride till your butt goes numb and that makes you laugh
when you find illimitable humor in complaining
May you find your Third Horse
or waken to find you already have exactly what you wish for
hidden behind the fretting and the stress
May you ride directly into the present moment
Slide between worlds
Dreaming and Waking, may you coast through the inbetween
and trust that each footfall might be a gift
even when it doesn’t seem so
May you understand feelings for what they are
Home movies
Often Ego’s Terrain
All the news about me
How-I-Think-How-I-Look-How-I-Sound-
How I stay busy
May you be able to see the miracle beneath the fuss
May you be able to hear the news without crumbling
May you be able to listen without interrupting
May you be kind
May your dogs and cats live forever
and may you laugh at your wishes
when they don’t come true
May you recognize when pain is fear you won’t express
and may you tell me the words that fear needs to tell
May nothing be left unsaid
May you embrace all of you
Not just the fun, not just the love
but the darker sides, hidden in the shadows
the hatred and perseverating,
the obsessions and mistrust
May you meet your monsters, rest with them in their depression
and old wounds they have carried bravely
and make them tea
serve them cookies
sit in the garden and listen to their woes
When they cry, “I want another horse”
don’t interrupt and remind them to be grateful for the one you ride
When they cry, “Make me young!”
don’t console or pretend aging is easy
When they wail in grief, just listen even if it’s the same pain
the same stories
the same losses
over and over and over
May you listen patiently to yourself
till you can really hear another
and then
may you hear the deep, soothing voice of the Universe
saying just this:
“There… there… little one… May you find comfort…
May you stop fighting
and remember to dance.”
From the first draft of my third book: The Third Horse
