Sometimes Things Aren’t What They Appear To Be
One of the things that I love about life is the vast opportunities to learn. Whether we are ready or not, whether we are expecting it or not, events pop up in our lives to help us to learn and evolve.
The first thing that I do when I get home from the activities of my day is to go directly to the barn to spend time with my last horse standing, Chief. I have had to put down two horses over the last handful of years and two have died of natural causes. Regardless of the circumstances surrounding their departures, it is never easy. It brings grief and emptiness and gratefulness and heartbreak all at the same time. I liken it to a downpour of rain. The emotions come so fast and they are so heavy and intrusive that you are soaked to the bone with loss and sadness.
I came home to a handwritten note that had been placed on the gate to my barn and horse corral yesterday. The note read:
“This poor horse stands in the barren corral by himself every day. He must be so lonesome. And he doesn’t even have any carrots. SHAMEFUL.”
Oh, that was so hard to read. But whoever left this note doesn’t know. As a matter of fact, they don’t know anything about my Chief and me and our mutual love and devotion for each other. But it did give me pause. It did allow me to ask myself the question: What can this teach me? And after some reflection, I share some of my thoughts in the video below.
Stay true and be you —
Annie
Hi Annie,
Thank you for taking the bold move to post this video. I’m certain that the person who posted the note on Chief’s corral knew nothing of his true circumstances, because they did not have the type of tools needed to assess the situation from the vantage point of wisdom and discernment like you did. There is nothing easy about caring for creatures who need us to love and care for them unconditionally and to make decisions for them when they are cast into a world that is not their own. There’s a depth to your journey that the writer of that note may never understand, because they did not take the time to ask. Have grace, we are trained to judge in the name of being “smart” and “discerning.” You are brilliant Annie! For the benefit of the note’s writer, the universe, and your own strength and well being, I encourage you to leave a response note with the details of your and Chief’s journey. As you know, writing frees and liberates us. Worse case, nothing comes of it except that you get a chance to clearly crystallize your love for Chief (pretty good outcome I would say). Best case, you and Chief get a new pen pal, corral messaging becomes “a thing,” and you get a new book idea (that’ cool, right). Rock on Annie, and thank you for all that you do!