TUFFIE and PICCASO or Where The Path Leads

Last weekend I went to a neighbor's place to see some of the horses she's trying to rehome. She's leaving the United States. I'm guessing she is fed up with our political state of affairs but she didn't say. This is one of the little fellas she wanted to find a home for. She had another name for him, but I called him Tuffie.

 He was fierce and brave, quite confident inside that little body of his. He is most definitely a Left Brain Extrovert. He moved the whole time I was there, insisting that I pay attention to him. "Tall horses drool. Little horses RULE!" He talked too, using his pint sized voice to his advantage. He is in the class size for Mini's called A, in other words really, really tiny. He already has a new home, not surprisingly. I was glad to hear that because I was completely charmed and ready to simply tuck him in to the front seat of the truck and drive home with him.

I've brought a Mini home before, thinking that Willow would enjoy having a buddy just her size. In the way that horses have of surprising us, he joined up with Apache instantly and they were best buddies. The two of them were inseparable. He was named Tug, the perfect name for him. I would have kept him too but the person he belonged to would not give me a receipt showing full ownership (a hard word for me spiritually but a necessary one in legal terms). She wanted to retain full control. I sent him back and both Apache and I cried for weeks afterward. 

And Willow? She was disdainful, resolute in her opinion that she is most certainly NOT a donkey. In fact she is a 2000 pound Percheron who wanted nothing to do with a horse that looked like it's legs were missing. " Huh! I am above this sort of equine, WAY above him in fact." And that was that.

I was talking with John this morning while we ate breakfast, about the unexpected turns our lives take us and the way it always seems to be pulling or knocking, as the case may be, us on to the path we are meant for. I've never been sure if that is simply my emotions and mind taking control and saying, " There, there. You're fine. This was meant to be. It's all good. " as a way of comforting myself, the way I comforted little boys when they had skinned up knees or if that's really what happens and it is all predestined. Who knows? It's all bigger than I can comprehend. But my life does seem to tug, nudge and push me back on to the path of living in the mysterious world of horses.

I came back to horses half way through my life. It's an eccentric way to live but I'm following the path of the artist, not exactly main stream there either. It's no wonder I'm living with a herd on a preserve with the sounds of the wind, birds, frogs and horses as my music. They keep me focused and outside my comfort zone, learning, and enhancing my creative problem solving. Horses in any size at any age or stage in their lives are part of my path. Maybe it is preordained. 

With horses and in my work I keep pushing to find my way to being playful, non linear, alive and outside my comfort zone. The two sides of my life reinforce each other. I have no doubt I am exactly where I am meant to be. I am evolving. And, like my brief time with the charming Tuffie, I am here, immediate and involved in the process. Even my drifting has purpose. 

Here's to all of the bumps in the path, the mountains and valleys, earthquakes and after shocks that set me on my way. Thank you Tuffie. You've reminded me that life is a game worth playing and the path is always fascinating. You really do rock, little guy. 

I have a feeling I'm going to have to go visit Tuffie in his new home too. He and I have more business together. (His new home is with another neighbor up the road the other way. Funny how that works out.) And I'm taking my camera, paper and something to draw with and imagination too when I go to see him.

Don't I wish I could see the weird and winding path I've left behind me and the road I have coming up ahead!

I am, ever yours, Nancy, head back and laughing at the way things go!