Sirena On The Loose
Glennon Doyle said we can do hard things. I guess we can. Yesterday it happened twice within the same tender, fearful and unexpected moment.
it goes like this. Harley has fallen in love with Sirena. Head over heals in love. I’m talking up early in the morning, out the door and down at the barn doing her thing for moments on end. She uses words, phrases and technical terms I can barely follow. A lot of the time I have that perplexed look on my face. Probably the same perplexed look my high school teachers had to deal with, but that’s another blog… maybe 11 other blogs. You get the point.
So the day was gorgeous. Energy positive, invigorating and inspiring. Harley and I had plans to visit Guys Farm and Yard store so she could walk around, cruise the aisles and soak in the horse vibe. At one point she even turned to me and said “Mom, this is my heaven.” Well, okay then. Not my heaven. Stinky, dusty and a bit of a cluster F%^*, buuuuutttt, when it’s your kid’s heaven it, by default, becomes yours.
While we were checking things out, we did have a purpose. Harley wanted to buy horse shampoo so she could give Sirena a bath. We located the goods, plus a few other non-essentials like horse mints (didn’t know there was such a thing) and we were eventually on our way.
Once we were home and back at the barn, we were given some directive on how to turn the hose on near the barn. We were successful in rigging things up and Harley was proudly doing her thing soaping and sudsing this gorgeous creature. As time carried on, the event started to wind down and a feeling of success was lingering in the air. I can do hard things (rig up a lonnnnng hose to reach the barn) and Harley can do hard things (wash a horse, solo, for the first time)…. but that wasn’t the hard thing.
As I was awkwardly fenangling the many hoses, I heard the cry make it’s way towards me. It was panic, sadness, fear and hurt all wrapped in one. Sirena was loose. In her absolute care and love and tenderness there was a split second moment where her system proved faulty and Sirena was well on her way… fortunately, only 20 steps away.
Hard thing one~ Feeling responsible for an animal that is technically not yours and assuming the worse. Hard thing two~ Sitting with your child has they move through the devastation and heartache. Harley’s head leaned up against a tree while she attempted to fix the wire Sirena had busted through. She couldn’t understand what went wrong but knew she might have made a miss-step giving Sirena the green light.
No word or small gesture was going to fix that moment. Me, mamma bear, was going to the extreme. In my head I thought…. well…. I don’t want to see you in pain maybe I’ll fix it. I’ll save my tutoring money and buy you your own horse!!!!! WHAT!!!!!???????? Seriously… what!?!
This next moment was me, doing my hard thing. I DESPISE seeing others in pain. I want to scoop it out of them and swallow it for myself. I have been working for years in therapy, participating in various workshops, going to retreats and learning how to fine tune my intuition and clarivoyance and STILL I stink in the art of pain (especially when it comes to my children).
My hard thing. I existed next to her. I sent love and healing and all other things possible, but I didn’t take her pain. Eventually, I even walked away. I said “I love you” and I walked. Breathe breathe breathe. Dear God, I wanted to buy that horse!!!!! Just to make it go away. But I didn’t. That was my hard thing.
Soon after, I heard the humming of the tractor drive up the driveway. The door closed and down she went to her bedroom (our house is upside down;)). Time slipped by, she came upstairs and said “I feel better now.”
She did it. I did it. We can do hard things.
