2019 Begins with Goodness

Wow, just changing over from 2018 to 2019 has proved noticeable. 2018 was enlightening. I learned many new farm things, new life lessons and new coping skills for hanging on to life in fast motion. 2019? I look forward to seeing what God has planned, and what direction life leads myself, and those around me. The physical motion of taking down the 2018 calendar, and placing the new, crisp 2019 calendar up gives me a sense of wiping a slate clean, and getting to pick new life choices, while reminiscing about the milestones. It reminds me of an etch-a-sketch. I enjoy creating the picture, enjoying the picture, and now I'll shake it, and make a new one. All the pictures are good, some better than others.
Now that I've settled into a different type of nursing career, I've left the Operating Room behind and moved to Triage Nursing. It took years to become comfortable with all the elements in the OR, and this is no different. Time, I need time to learn the multitude of things needed to do this job well. And Lauren is doing the same thing. She's growing her knowledge on public library life. There's so many moving parts to it, and I really have no idea the depth of it, until I talk to her about it all. Frisco Public Library offers so many things to the public. Who knew!?
David is soaring forward with a new art studio (aka fancy shed). He's got his own space to nurture and create, paint and color, glue and hammer, and use that amazing imagination to any extent he so desires. I think he's most excited that it's a separate space, with a key to the door, that he can stash all his artistic belongs in one location. Plus all his "things" I try to get him to rehome. Collectables, he might say. He'll have a special place for it all. My 'Goodbye, Things' tendencies have not struck a chord with him, although I'll give him full credit  for recognizing that this as an option in life now. His closet is his museum, and his new studio shed will likely house his nearest and dearest things soon.
Warning: subject change. And can you believe it's been 2 1/2 months since Whisper's surgery!? At the 3 month mark, we are looking to set her free back to the pasture. Her leg should be healed and ready to be used more. She's missed her brother, Levi, whose taken all the responsibility for the sheep. He's done an amazing job, and deserves a bit of a break. They will be so glad to be back together again. Whisper has been penned in a large area where she has access to go in and out of a portion of the barn - all her own. This keeps her from running and re-injuring herself. Conveniently, the new guard pups have been living in there with her during the day. At night, the pups go out in the pasture with Levi for the night. He's showing them what to do. Soon, we hope to divide the front pasture with a new fence that will allow each brother/sister to take a portion of the pasture to guard. The sheep will stay with Levi (and Whisper). We are doing this in hopes of keeping Levi and Whisper's aging bodies strong. They take their job very seriously, and Dixie and Davis can step in and take a portion of the pasture to patrol. With sheep, chickens, barn cats and small dogs, they are all tasty treats for the coyotes, foxes, and bob cats - not to mention the mischievous raccoons and stinky possums. When the predators come out at night, it's our guard dogs that keep everyone as safe as possible. I feel like I can never repay them enough. We do make sure they eat well, and have a warm spot in the barn on those cold, cold nights - in between patroling the parameter.
Not all predators come around at night. Last weekend, we had a hawk incident with one of our chickens. This is not the first time it's happened, but I will say the chickens usually know and sense the hawks above - most of the time. They instinctively seek shelter under a tree or back in the barn. Levi will bark at them, at times, when they get close, too. But now and then, that hawk is really hungry and invades our scared space - and intrudes upon a helpless chicken. It's awful. The circle of life is tough - and necessary. But I just get so upset every time it's happened. It's like my insides cry,  that this cruel way of dying has to happen. Death is never easy. But sometimes, it makes me realize those that die a horrific death, or a tortured death is harder to manage - than that of a natural cause. Something about it just hurts my heart and I fret inside terribly about it. The people in life that have these types of deaths happen to family/loved ones is incomprehensible. Something people never get over, I can only imagine.
Down that rabbit hole, I went. Whew. Now, I climbed back out of the death spiral, and will focus on happy happenings. Good news! Grace is completely weaned from the bottle. She's such a sweet girl, and loves to be loved. Clara, her twin who did get her mama's milk, watches Grace and wonders what all that love is about. She comes close to feel it, sense it and see what's so special about these humans. She wants to smell us, and it's all on her terms. That's okay, Clara. You'll learn to love us more, now that mama (Eve) has no more milk for you. We have treats! They are 3 months now. They still stay close to their mama, but overall, the 5 of them have become more of a herd together. Belle has mothered LuLu impeccably. LuLu is two weeks younger than the twins, and is shy, kind and gentle-natured - just like Belle. They are just alike in most every way. Except LuLu gets all her love from her mama. Belle gets her love from David and I (technically, we are the only mama she's ever known). LuLu watches us closely. Look, but don't touch - is her motto. Over all, the sheep are doing amazing. They each have their own distinctive personality, their own baa sounds, and really stick together and are always in tune with the other. Guess that's why they're a herd. I have a lot to learn from them.
As this cold February approaches, I know March is just behind it. It's taken a couple of winters to get our $*@# together in regards to heated water buckets, plenty of straw for bedding, and (yes, we buckled this year) with the new lambs and pups we put out a couple of heat lamps in the barn. We said we would never put heat lamps in the barn. We were wrong, when we said that. Lambs and young guard pups need that extra little something something to help keep them regulated from the 20's and 30 degree temps. And for the donkeys, they have a new barn of their own, as we converted their run-in shed to a more closed quarters facility, with a rubber mat flooring. If all the animals are comfortable, I sleep better at night. If I'm going to be responsible for these creatures, I try to do my best. I do readily acknowledge that our farm animals have a pretty good gig (and I may or may not have been told that they are all spoiled), but they do all give back and have a job, We have very few, if ever, any rodents, snakes and predators. (Thank you barn cats, guard dogs, and territorial donkeys) We get fresh eggs every day, and all the love anyone could ever want. Plus 24/7 outdoor entertainment. It may be stinky sometimes, muddy, messy and crazy around here. I absolutely love it.
So 2019, here we come. Here on a little piece of land God has granted us, we keep moving forward and enjoy the little things. The sweet baa of LuLu, the chickens following me around, our barn cat palooza and every single thing on LECR (Little Elm Creek Rd - longest address we've ever had) that feeds my soul. Life out here is where I belong.

Happy New 2019,
Cyndi

The puzzle that is Me

It's taken many years, various events, and copious thought processes that bring me to a final conclusion of why I'm so attracted to the notion of having less, wanting less, and desiring less. Less feels like more to me. I find when I'm out and about shopping, my thoughts are: I need to discard something, before a new item is brought into the house. It's been a circus-like journey in my own mind, to reach this point of most probable, no return. It all started (cue the dream sequence music)....
Once Upon A Time, there was a skinny, little curly red-headed, willowy girl who had a lost soul. She tried to find it, looking while at church, at home, at school, from family, from friends, but never could seem to locate her soul. Physical and material things would pacify her for only short periods of time, and seemed fulfilling, but only provided short term satiety. She grew up from hard working parents who taught her a strong work ethic and the importance of education. Still, an empty soul. Many tried to guide her, but never able to tap into her true needs. If only she knew to look inward, and not outward for what she was looking for.
Fast forward to a marriage, a beautiful baby girl, a lovely new house. Somehow, with a lost soul, she felt un-deserving. Less than. She kept that feeling inside, although she was sure others knew and could "see" her soul was lost. Uncomfortable, she kept moving on.
As age descended upon her, the red-headed lady began to evolve, and not just exist. She finally did look inward (God is truly patient), to see if she could survey this desire to be better, be more and do more. Dream, then realize her dreams. Not just dream. She needed to wander and learn. She needed to feel what being herself felt like, not what others wanted her to be. She wanted to start discarding the physical things that once made her superficially happy. Less felt better than more. She wanted to do things that always sounded crazy to others, but normal to her. And so she began. The pilgrimage was long, and still continues to this day. It's a trek that has infinity as it's parameters. Her migration from lost to found slowly became apparent to her. It took most all her life to get there, and there's still many places to go, picking up the pebbles of her soul along the way. There is no The End, as she feeds her soul every day, doing the best she can do that day. Looking though a lens that seems clearer and more beautiful than ever before. She now feeds her soul, and wants to share this same feeling with others.
It's a recipe that is different for us all. 1 heaping cup of self compassion, a pad of Permission Slips to be written to ourselves, generous helpings of forgiveness, unlimited empathy, and most of all self-love so we can give our love away to others. That happens to be my recipe, with sprinkles of non-attachment, dabs of confidence to be authentic, and a constant stream of vulnerability so that I can continue to grow.
As I age, I just want to roam. Not intentional travel. Just roam. It's like having an understanding why homeless people like to be homeless. They get to roam. I've come to accept my roaming will be "controlled" roaming. Like running a new route and looking at everything around me. Noticing new things on old routes. Biking to new towns around me, seeing how other people live and what their recipes are in life. There's so much more to this thing called earth, and although I only plant my feet on a minuscule portion of it, I adore what I'm given. I'll take it, happily. The freedom to roam is like winning the lottery 100 times over, and not having to worry about what to do with all that money.
My most cherished possessions are the living beings all around me. At the farm esp, as my love for my animals feels like an exploding piñata each time I see, pet, touch or care for them. It's sheer joy. The true definition of joy for me. But this applies across the board at work, at home, with family, with friends, and with people around me I don't even know. They are living the same life as I am, but with a different recipe, that taste just as good, if not better, than mine.
This Year of Know is like having a light bulb turned on. Things are bright, clear and easier to see, when the intention is set to do so. It's a time of not only what's important to me, but listening and watching what's important to the people around me. God has me on His track of moving through these seasons of my life, and feeling what it is He has next for me. I'm just trying to keep up.
Have you read the book, The Year of Yes, by Shonda Rhines? It's kind of like it really should be titled The Year of No, instead. Because I found her "yes's" include a lot of boundary setting, which is kind of like saying no. While reading her book, it becomes easy to characterize ourselves as an introvert or extrovert, as the reason we do things, or not do things. Just the same, her focus is to encourage us to "dance it out, and stand in the sun". Who doesn't want to do that? The encouragement from her own life may be very different than mine, but her point is well taken. And I recently re-read Goodbye, Things by Fumio Sasaki. Every time I listen to this book, I hear something new (I guess like I do with most books I re-read!). By biggest take-away from this book was: The things you own, end up owning you. He poses the notion that the the less you have (material possessions), the more freedom you have to go wherever you want, with a minimal amount of chores, as well. What a basic and profound statement. I enjoy that book because it's a nice reminder as to why I might want to go buy things to make myself feel better, but it really is a short lived feeling. The author places much of people’s unhappiness due to the burden of our things. Then, after the third (or fourth) listen to How's Your Soul recently, did it finally hit me that I had been searching for mine so long, in all the wrong places. That book could easily be titled, "Reminders for Cyndi Graves".
My all-time favorite author, Brene Brown is the one who encourages me to be vulnerable, rise strong, and dare greatly. Writing a blog like this one is hard, because I want to delete it after I've written it. Sometimes my feelings are raw, and I'm afraid to say what's inside me. But that's not being vulnerable, and putting my truest self out there if I delete what I write. After all, it's coming from my heart, and that's the life I'm trying to lead. I'm trying to be my own person, but the fear in doing so is the challenge I face - and accept. So as this little red-headed girl has grown up, searched her soul, and grown in so many ways, I too have the opportunity to tell others my story. That way when other's are searching for their soul, I can assure them they will find it.
Along my own trek, I have been blessed to have a daughter who has published my writings, and placed them wonderfully, in a book of my own. As a published author, I feel honored to share my words with others. Even though I'm in the "final" editing phase, my first copy is out and titled: "crossing". I found myself out on US60, wandering the land, living life on the side of the road, looking for me. I'm now able to share my experience with others. Thank you, Lauren, for all your hard work in getting my (our) book published. It means more than words can ever say.

As the barn animals baa, hee-haw and cluck to be fed, I'll close for now. They are truly cherished beings I have, who trust me to always care for them. I need them, as they need me.

Time for my barn therapy,

Cyndi