Last Updated On November 4, 2021

 

“The doors to the world of the wild Self are few but precious. If you have a deep scar, that is a door, if you have an old, old story, that is a door. If you love the sky and the water so much you almost cannot bear it, that is a door. If you yearn for a deeper life, a full life, a sane life, that is a door.” ― Clarissa Pinkola Estés

 

 

This piece is part of my Garden of Delights series, see The Garden of Delights 30 Day Writing Challenge if you would like to participate all through the month of November.

In the car, if I see horses in a field- I say “horses!” to no one or everyone.

And if I see a field that doesn’t but sometimes has horses, I say “Where are the horses today?” as if they are on vacation or at their day jobs.

Today, I saw horses running across a field and I said “delight!”.

Running horses immediately raise my level of awareness. I am wondering where are they going, what are they running from, are they scared, are they exhilarated, are they competing with one another. What must the sound be like, the beating of hooves, the whipping of mane. I’d much rather witness the thrill of running horses over any sport or race or rocket’s ascent. There is an old part of my consciousness that awakens when I am momentarily disconnected from being the apex living thing in my purview and on some level I think I yearn for it. There is a wildness in my heart, a portal that I can barely access. What would it be like if instead of seeing songbirds and chipmunks outside my door, I saw broad looming beasts. Snorting at my tires and sniffing my mailbox, rolling around to scratch themselves on my driveway, wrestling each other in the lawn. Supremely confident as they clock my existence at the door, not changing their pace- ripping things up, rattling the ground, raising dust and exhaling steam, bellowing at will.

I long to defer to nature.

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Last Updated On November 4, 2021

 

“The doors to the world of the wild Self are few but precious. If you have a deep scar, that is a door, if you have an old, old story, that is a door. If you love the sky and the water so much you almost cannot bear it, that is a door. If you yearn for a deeper life, a full life, a sane life, that is a door.” ― Clarissa Pinkola Estés

 

This piece is part of my Garden of Delights series, see The Garden of Delights 30 Day Writing Challenge if you would like to participate all through the month of November.

In the car, if I see horses in a field- I say “horses!” to no one or everyone.

And if I see a field that doesn’t but sometimes has horses, I say “Where are the horses today?” as if they are on vacation or at their day jobs.

Today, I saw horses running across a field and I said “delight!”.

Running horses immediately raise my level of awareness. I am wondering where are they going, what are they running from, are they scared, are they exhilarated, are they competing with one another. What must the sound be like, the beating of hooves, the whipping of mane. I’d much rather witness the thrill of running horses over any sport or race or rocket’s ascent. There is an old part of my consciousness that awakens when I am momentarily disconnected from being the apex living thing in my purview and on some level I think I yearn for it. There is a wildness in my heart, a portal that I can barely access. What would it be like if instead of seeing songbirds and chipmunks outside my door, I saw broad looming beasts. Snorting at my tires and sniffing my mailbox, rolling around to scratch themselves on my driveway, wrestling each other in the lawn. Supremely confident as they clock my existence at the door, not changing their pace- ripping things up, rattling the ground, raising dust and exhaling steam, bellowing at will.

I long to defer to nature.

###

Last Updated On November 4, 2021

“The doors to the world of the wild Self are few but precious. If you have a deep scar, that is a door, if you have an old, old story, that is a door. If you love the sky and the water so much you almost cannot bear it, that is a door. If you yearn for a deeper life, a full life, a sane life, that is a door.” ― Clarissa Pinkola Estés

This piece is part of my Garden of Delights series, see The Garden of Delights 30 Day Writing Challenge if you would like to participate all through the month of November.

In the car, if I see horses in a field- I say “horses!” to no one or everyone.

And if I see a field that doesn’t but sometimes has horses, I say “Where are the horses today?” as if they are on vacation or at their day jobs.

Today, I saw horses running across a field and I said “delight!”.

Running horses immediately raise my level of awareness. I am wondering where are they going, what are they running from, are they scared, are they exhilarated, are they competing with one another. What must the sound be like, the beating of hooves, the whipping of mane. I’d much rather witness the thrill of running horses over any sport or race or rocket’s ascent. There is an old part of my consciousness that awakens when I am momentarily disconnected from being the apex living thing in my purview and on some level I think I yearn for it. There is a wildness in my heart, a portal that I can barely access. What would it be like if instead of seeing songbirds and chipmunks outside my door, I saw broad looming beasts. Snorting at my tires and sniffing my mailbox, rolling around to scratch themselves on my driveway, wrestling each other in the lawn. Supremely confident as they clock my existence at the door, not changing their pace- ripping things up, rattling the ground, raising dust and exhaling steam, bellowing at will.

I long to defer to nature.

###