How I Do

The question that’s currently inundating my inbox is the one I’ve received the most over the past few years, and while I’ve partially addressed it in my book and in some interviews, I am going to try to tackle it here, fully. And it is: “How did you take the leap of faith?/ How did you make such a drastic change with your life?/ How did you swing it financially?/ How did you DO it?”

This was a hard post to write. The answer is multifaceted and it’s a tricky question for me to answer because so much of it is tied up in who I am ~ my past, my self, my personality. But the bottom line, and the truth of it, is that I practiced.

I have practiced leaving and going and trusting and doing and taking risks and making things work on my own (and my own terms) for years. Decades. First on a small scale, then gradually increasing in scope and degree of commitment required. For as long as I can remember, I have pushed myself outside my comfort zone. I like to test myself. I still do this, all the time.

Meanwhile, I was learning to pay attention to my intuition and to trust it. I remember so many times when I would be given direct information in my head and I would ignore it and then life would prove that I was really, really dumb to have ignored that information.

This happened enough times that I finally said, OK, I don’t understand this and can’t explain it but I know I must always pay attention to that voice. And now I confidently make major decisions by tapping into that part of myself and paying attention to the information it gives me. I hold logic in very high esteem but if intuition says “yes” or “no” and logic says the opposite, I go with intuition. And I’ve never been sorry.

I believe wholly and absolutely that everyone is capable of having a strong and trustworthy relationship with their intuition, but it’s something that’s been forgotten or ignored or dismissed by our society. It, too, takes practice to become proficient, just like any skill. And I believe it is a skill, not a gift.

So there’s A) Practice and B) Trusting my intuition. C) is Failure.

Failure is really not as bad as it’s made out to be. I have failed so many times. SO MANY TIMES. Some have been minor, some major. But I think we’ve been conditioned to believe that failing is The Most Horrible Thing Ever and in reality, it’s more akin to skinning your knee. Or even getting a compound fracture. Sure, it hurts in the moment and you have to work harder to recover, just as your body must work a bit harder repairing a skinned knee or broken bone. But then, as is true for scar tissue, you’re stronger in that spot. I happen to learn best from failing. I would rather fail than not try. And sometimes I don’t fail at all. I fly.

Somewhere in this, somehow, I need to say that I don’t do things that I think are stupid. I do things that other people think are stupid, but based on practice, intuition, what I know of myself, and what I know I’m willing to risk or sacrifice, my choices never seem stupid to me. The mother of my best friend in high school had a saying, “be wild and crazy, not stupid and dangerous.” What I’ve learned is that you are the only one who knows where the line between the two lies for you.

As for the financial aspect, for me, it, too, goes back to practice and intuition and trust. When I moved to Wyoming, I did not have very much money and I did not have a job lined up. I knew that moving here was the Right Thing (and this was full-on intuition: I had not even been to this town before. My ride across the Bighorns was two hours north of here. I rented a house sight unseen, over the internet, from New York City.) Anyway, since I knew this was Right, I knew I would make something happen, work-wise, because I had to. Because I had done it in the past. Because I believe when you are doing what is right for you, in the truest sense of the word, things conspire to help you.

That said, I am A-OK with a low standard of living. I have a $1500 truck. No car payments. I have catastrophic health insurance with a $7000 deductible. Low monthly payments and I don’t go to the doctor. When I moved here, I didn’t have internet service or long distance (and I still don’t have a cell phone). I went to the library to use the internet and in doing so, I saved a bunch of money and made friends. I know what I need and I know what I don’t need and that helps me in my decisions.

So…. where does one start? Practice! Give yourself a day and just start walking. See where you end up. Take breaks when you need to on the side of the road. In a strange cafe. See what you see or who you meet. Take water, pen and paper, trail mix and your cell phone so you can call a friend to pick you up at the end of the day. The commitment level is low but the exploration quotient is high! Who knows what might change in that one day.

As for intuition, I don’t really know how to explain practicing that skill, so if anyone out there has suggestions, please please leave your ideas in the comment section. I know it is intrinsically linked with awareness. So maybe start with making lists: What do you want? What are you willing to sacrifice? What do you refuse to give up? What are you willing to risk? What, to you, is the worst thing that can happen (know thine enemy, so to speak)? Define these things. This kind of awareness brings power. One thing I learned on my Vespa trip is that confidence keeps a woman safe. Take that a step further and you have self-awareness. You have that, you have real power.

So. This is what my path has been and continues to be. “Practice” is probably the most boring and undesired answer. But that has been my truth. And while magical serendipitous experiences or profound epiphanies are incredibly awesome and can transform one’s perspective or physical reality in a moment, I believe practice and diligence are just as important. In playing the piano, one must first learn scales. And after mastering the third movement of the Moonlight Sonata, you still practice your scales. Said another way: “Before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment, chop wood, carry water.”

no camera available

Sometimes I don’t have a camera & I just try to memorize the moment:

Pulling into the driveway and seeing Daisy standing over Frisco, Frisco lying in the grass suckling her teat. Drinking from Daisy whilst lying down. Yeesh.

Charlie going absolutely nuts for the fringe surrounding a hole in the knee of Mike’s jeans. Obsessive nibbling. It looked like it tickled.

Frisco falling asleep with his head on my chest (drooling on my shirt, even) as I lay against his chest. If Escher did farm scenes, this would be it.

The smell of marjoram.

What didn’t you take a picture of today?

Sir Baby Becomes A Man

On Sunday, we put Sir Baby in a gorgeous pasture filled with lush, knee-high grass. Bushy alfalfa. Two huge shade trees. Fresh flowing water. And twenty plump, eager virgins. It’s time for Baby to earn his keep!

Sir Baby trotted through the gate. He stopped for a breath as the heifers surrounded him. Then he ran.

And the girls took off after him.

And when he stopped, the herd of heifers surrounded him once again.

(that’s Sir Baby in the foreground, and a hussy in the back riding another heifer)