hot horse

During a recent low motivation work day, an uninspired massage treatment, I got an image and a feeling, so strong it was like a memory, and it got me through the rest of the hour. A horse, a feisty small hot horse, an arab maybe, grey, fleabitten grey it's called, maybe a mare because of all the sass, though I've never gotten along with mares. A small hot horse, here on this overgrown west coast farm, and me on it, bareback, outside this little cabin where horses are so out of place. The horse was prancing and skittering and I sat easy and was laughing, not bothered and the landlord came out of his place and hadn't ever seen me like this, usually just harried and tight lipped and unable to take a joke. We were about to canter down the driveway, the only place there is to run around here. It felt like something to reach for, despite feeling like there is no fertile ground in which dreams can grow in my life, yet, in this holding pattern and stuckness. But horses have been infiltrating my thoughts again more and more and I welcome it. I'm getting ready for some bigger energy, something that'll blow my hair back and make me be strong back. Strong in an assertive way, not a survival way. Felix fell out of bed for the first time last night and it terrified me. While I was deep asleep, heard a massive thump under the bed, it felt like and in the space of a second my brain ran through all the possibilities: earthquake, bear, inhuman demon beast, then felix started wailing and I woke, cradled him, turned on a lamp, checked for blood or missing teeth, he squeezed a boob, drank some water and went back to sleep. I couldn't turn the light off for a while, still scared that it may have been some evil force that pulled him off the bed, and my diaphragm stayed in inhalation till well into the morning. Good thing I just took that craniosacral course on Gabriola I thought. My single classmate had thick cover up on and filled in eyebrows and I shit you not a clear - with pink piping all around it - plastic zip Barbie case in her oversized handbag. We had lunch together on a bench and she had a minor meltdown when she saw that the bench was home to some ants and they were eating her dropped crumbs. We had to leave the spot, with her saying ew ew ew over, though I was trying to bring her attention to how a whole crew of ants had assembled around a particularly large piece of grilled cheese fragment and lifted it - all together now. The next lunch break we spent apart and I stumbled into the local seed savers seed swap. I happened to have some ashwagandha seeds in my purse, which I thought was rather hilarious and ridiculous, and I swapped them for the Styrian pumpkin seeds on offer. Picked up some more bush bean varietals and an heirloom Vesuvian tomato plant, and I may be uninspired and realistic in my big dreams but at least I have unfettered and unfounded optimism in my gardening skills.