if you want for clear sky

i've nearly completed my 40th year...as my birthday approaches, i am reminded of my father's words to me.  he said, as only a father can gift a daughter (thanks dad!), "you are not a circus pony.  you are a wild arabian mare."  those two sentences mean the world to me and i come back to them in times that call for solace, guidance, celebration or grounding.

in conjunction with that, i was gifted the book "holy is the day:  living in the gift of the present" by author carolyn weber (who also wrote "surprised by oxford").  she writes, "irreverence begins in not paying attention.  and yet, i think, it can also stem from counting too often and too closely.  the eternal cannot be insisted into a measurement...it pricks our want for clear sky, our ache for the star by which to mark our journey.  we crave the wisdom from within the flurry of beauty that startles and quiets".

these two concepts come together for me in that to run wild on the mountainside takes great strength.  it takes courage and boldness and grit.  it takes a willingness to enjoy being alone while also finding your tribe of those to run alongside.  sometimes i envy circus ponies.  what's not to love about them?  it seems easier because they're cute and their routine is simple.  not so the wild horse.  with such capacity that wants not to be tamed comes great responsibility, sometimes great pain and an often uncharted journey.  and yet i wouldn't want to be or have anything less.

just for now, however, in the midst of my running free i want to stop and do nothing.  i want to enjoy the views that the climb thus far has to offer and just be grateful for the experiences i've had.  i want to turn away from the fear of "who will do everything if i don't?" and, after i have reared up in response to the beauty of it all, simply stand in this one wild and holy moment.