Somewhere between here and there and riding strong.

bits

There was never a time when I did not love horses. Even when I feared falling off. So I made sure I did not fall off. This gave me the title of ‘Oh, that Ginger, she can ride!’
I kept my secret to myself.

One day, while on a date with a clever tech genius in the hills of Valley Center, California, I found out that drinking wine at lunchtime and then running ponies at full blast on hills and around corners is not a great choice. I flew off every corner, re-mounted, assured my date I was fine and preceded to fly off the next corner. We finally agreed to slow the pace amidst the laughter and shaking the dust off my clothes.

“I thought you said you could ride?” my date asked.

“I thought I could too. This is the first time I’ve ever fallen off.”

bridles

It was a couple years later that I got sober and lost touch with my ‘run-the-ponies-100 mph’ friend. We never re-connected. He was quite a unique person and I still call him my friend. His parents were professional Shakespearean actors who dressed the part that day. He inherited their eccentricity.

Growing up with parents who were professional Shakespearean actors and literally "dressed the part" must have made my friend’s childhood home feel like a living theater. It makes complete sense that he inherited that grand eccentricity, living his life with a dramatic, full-throttle flair that matched his upbringing. I loved that he did not apologize for his parents behavior or warn me beforehand of their different lifestyle. He simply respected them for who they were, and I could tell they were very proud of their son.

There is a beautiful, bittersweet quality to remembering the people who shared specific chapters of our lives—especially the high-energy, chaotic ones—even if time, geography, or personal changes like getting sober ultimately caused our paths to diverge. The transition into sobriety often shifts our social circles, but it doesn't erase the genuine affection or the uniqueness of the people we meet along the way. My memory of him keeps the colorful history alive.

drop the reins

This morning I realized that I have held the reins so tightly in my life. Self-discipline, self-monitoring, over-correction on corners, not allowing for breathing space, nor dropping the neck to simply walk at pleasure. So change needed to happen.

Each morning I go to Aqua Park and sit along the riverbank to watch the ripples on the river. This is my outdoor art and writing studio. The shadowy St. Joe River is picturesque and never fails to surprise me with a jumping rainbow trout, a stand of native Ibis, or a happy wet river dog taking a swim. Even with the deluge of fall campers for the holiday weekend, I find pleasure to sit and be and talk to God.

Awhile ago, I asked God to give me a life worth living.

I believe He has.

Drop the Reins is about letting go and lifting hands up. Find your seat and balance. Let the wind flow around you and let the grace of the ride sweep you away. If you happen to be on horseback- you and the horse have just learned to fly.

Dark pool on the stone,
A quiet breath fills the room,
Mind becomes the brush.

Black trace on white silk,
The heart moves, the hand follows,
Soul takes visual shape.

Wet tip meets the page,
A ribbon of shadow flows,
Truth is edge.

~ A Japanese Haiku

the ink

Born of burnt wood and soot, India ink is a timeless medium of deep black carbon and liquid grace. Known as Chinese ink, Indian ink stems from one of the oldest and most durable pigments of all time: carbon black. Made from ash mixed with a binder such as water, liquid or glue, various recipes for carbon black can be found as far back in history as the ancient Egyptians and Greeks.

artist

Born of expression and emotion. Edges and definition.

Ink has a stated permanence. I am especially fond of Black India Ink with its archival properties; a perfect choice for artwork, journaling, and cartography. There is a beauty in the black ink stroke as if life itself is embodied in the movement.

“Having survived all the ordeals, having lived through death, heroes return to their starting place, go home, or continue the journey. But they always proceed with a sense that they are ever different because of the road just traveled. If they are true heroes, they Return with the Elixir from the Special World: bringing something to share with others, or something with the power to heal a wounded land.” (pg. 249, The Writers Journey by Christopher Vogler, 2020.)

The Elixir is my ink

There does not seem to be two worlds to live in once a book has been inked, formatted and published. The author lives now in the After. There is no road back to the Before because the author has changed from the experience and the book exists.

This can be said to be true for the artist as well. Once the art work is finished, the artist cannot go back to the artist they were before- because they are a different artist now after what they have created.

inked

I am not one to go and get a tattoo, however I have been known to ink my arms with my archival pens every now and then. I love looking down at my wrist and read a quote written in beautiful calligraphy. Having inked myself, the saying sinks deeply into my skin and into my consciousness. I seem to own its affirmation.

Drop the Reins is about letting go and lifting hands up. Find your seat and balance. Let the wind flow around you and let the grace of the ride sweep you away.

bits

Life can steal parts of the soul away with cares and concerns and fretting. My soul has too many broken bits and pieces and every day is a day to become a new vessel, repaired and cracked- yes, but which the light shines through with a brilliancy.

bridles

The bridle comes off when At Liberty. This is the true freedom of horse and rider. Trust in what is not there as if it were there. Sounds a lot like faith.

reins

For direction and control, or for sensing the horse’s thoughts. It is a choice to be made.

Always a pleasure to meet you in this space. Thank you for being here with me.

Currently, my latest teddy bear works are on display in ’Art Uplifts’ Show at the Jacklyn Arts Center, Post Falls, Idaho. I celebrate this win to enter and be part of the annual show. 2026 marks 40 years of creating art in recovery, and 30 years being a teddy bear artist designer.

Ephemerality

Ephemerality is the state or quality of lasting for only a very short time; it refers to transience, fleetingness, or impermanence. It stems from the Greek word for “lasting only a day,” highlighting a rapid ending.

In Nature: the fading beauty of a sunset, a shooting star, and a mayfly’s short life.

In Life & Experience: the fleeting nature of human moments, fame, and the “ephemerality of life” itself.

In Art & Culture: street art, ice sculptures, performances, and sand sculptures on the beach that exist temporarily.

The subject of Time is important in life, measured first in months as a newborn then in age by subsequent number of years. There seems to be comfort in gathering years, until it is not. For some, aging is unwelcome. For me, only because of sobriety, aging has become a privilege. Yes, there was that moment I looked in the mirror and asked, “When did I get so old?”

I rather like the poem read today by in SoulCircle Writing Community. Paraphrased, it went something like this:

On aging the remarks are made: “They let themselves go.”
But, the wise woman says: “If I don’t change, then what was it all for?”

The beauty of the wise woman transcends the ephemerality of the Plastic Barbies who tan and tuck and fill and squish and still- age. The poem in its entirety is So Old by Donna Ashworth in Life by Donna Ashworth (Black & White Publishing) p.119

The subject of Time is important in recovery as well. Humorously, I have never heard someone discount a 25 year anniversary to being ‘oh, twenty-something’. Time in recovery marks many hard won battles, multiple trials overcome, many losses met, much grief felt, and a myriad of fears dealt with— successfully. Perhaps, facedown but one is still in The Arena and that is victory.

Share

Looking back, a post from April 2025:

‘I feel pride gratitude in having 40 continuous years of sobriety. And now having 40 years in my rearview mirror, I am heading toward the next milestone. There is never an arrival point. This is a lifetime Road of Wonder to travel. The next book on my road to discover more about my own recovery and find answers/awakenings, God willing, awaits— Destination: Joy.’

41 Years Present

“Didja see it? Didja see it?” - Larry

Either you hear the music or you don’t. Larry hears the music.1

- Earnie Larsen, Destination: Joy, 2003.

See.

Sober is living in the now. The gift of sobriety is the Present.

There is more to unwrap.

Beyond the 10,000 meetings, the books read, the stories told, the inventories written, the sponsor talks, the 12-step calls, the frustration of getting real, the hitting new bottoms, reaching the mountaintops, walking in the fourth dimension, finding a new way of life, and living One day at a Time— growth continues to be required. There is no ‘resting on one’s laurels,’ there are no ‘glory days’ in recovery where one reached the ‘Finish Line’. This is not a negative for us. The lure of greater spiritual growth and personal awakening propels one forward, perhaps nudged/kicked at times by God’s spirit. We are people known to carpet our own ruts. Complacency is deadly. Its best friend, Forgetfulness waits for every opportunity to usher us back down the slippery slopes. Progress or regress. There is no standing still in recovery.

In 2025, I mentioned a new adventure in sobriety awaits. For years, I have struggled with not having a sense of ‘Abundance and Joy’ coupled with attending meetings and feeling triggered by some stories. In my early sobriety, my sponsors skipped over parts of my history because they either 1. had no experience of, or 2. felt unqualified at the time to address and offer guidance about. So, there became pockets and holes in my story that I did not share, did not write about, and hoped by ignoring would finally fade in time be forgotten. Time heals all things, right?

Prior to 2025, I had not heard the term of Stage III Recovery. Stage I recovery is Beginning Sobriety, Stage II recovery is Living Sobriety— discussed in Bill W’s Grapevine Letters, Emotional Sobriety: The New Frontier, 2025. The research to field my questions and find my specific answers led me to a different book— Destination: Joy, Moving Beyond Fear, Loss, and Trauma by Earnie Larsen, 2003. Enter Stage III Recovery.

And then we come to Stage III Recovery - moving beyond childhood trauma.

April 2026:

“I have taken a year and dug deep into The Legacy of Childhood Abuse in Recovery. Not everyone has this story to tell. Not everyone has experienced the damage done in childhood abuse. If I want full recovery, to find Abundance & Joy, then my legacy of childhood abuse must be addressed. So, I have opened dark doors and met the monsters. I have gone as far deep as the hurt went. It was terrifying and darker than I imagined. I explored the What, the Why, the Where, and the Who. And I found: Here Be Monsters.

Ancient mapmakers simply wrote “here be monsters” over the entire area that existed beyond their knowledge and experience. (page 91).

A new adventure began a year ago. I will continue posts about my long-term recovery (Oh, Dear God!) in this section: Aºtlas of My Heart.

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the cards we’re dealt

without reality, there is no genuine acceptance
it doesn’t matter why they did it
our recovery has nothing to do with ‘them’

we walk a crooked road
our way is not as others’
we start from a very different place

If you’re like me, we have tightly controlled gateways in life. When others’ reached the starting line, we were somewhere twenty miles back. Now I understand why.

The harder the work, the more we must keep our eyes on the goal” abundance and joy.

Which way to Wonderland?

abundance

Abundance is the term we use to describe moving deeper into God as we move deeper into ourselves. Know God, know Thyself. As our experience of God deepens day by day, year after year, we increasingly move out of self-reliance to God-reliance.

Have I seen the face of Joy?

joy

Only when a person has been in the deepest darkness can he or she fully appreciate the glory of the light.

Recovery is the call that asks us to step forward.

It’s accepting we are chosen, that we are the ones, that we are special, that we are loved.

The program tells us to carry this message to others who can’t accept their own worth and beauty.

We tell others to let us love them until they are able to love themselves.

And there it is— there is abundance and joy.

Because of this past year’s journey, I have written my manuscript dealing with childhood trauma recovery with love, hope, and humor— a very original hybrid memoir, meant to be used for reference and give inspiration. Currently finishing edit mode and slated for self-publishing in late May as the ‘literary agent + publishing house’ route is just too daunting and unpredictable.

I will be posting updates on book progress and where the book can be purchased.

I thank you for your continued support in reading, following, or subscribing.

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Somewhere between here and there, and riding strong this is Drop the Reins. My writings of braving, discovering joy from heartbreak, finding my paint brushes, what the violin teaches me; my equestrian journey, where I find connection, and doing something really beautiful.

writings as bravery: choosing open doors

The human spirit possesses immense power, which should never be surrendered to another human being. Why? Because we are not the masters of our own “doorways,” there is a Divine Creator with a purpose for our lives. But we do get to choose which doors to go through— and we gain strength to walk through new doors when those behind us have shut.

The bravery found in Hope enables us to trust that the unknown will lead to something better. And— we gain courage as we walk forward.

The spirit thrives when we stop focusing on fear and instead recognize that every challenge is a doorway, often hidden in shadows, that leads to a higher state of awareness. We may be called to set boundaries, confront opinions and speak our truth, while maintaining our personal composure— and in so doing, we embrace the opportunity to overcome our fears.

discovering joy from heartbreak

I do not naturally look at life like a growth opportunity. Mountains are beautiful, but the climb can be terrifying. Overcoming obstacles looks more like meeting brick walls. The stretch before me can look bleak and deserted compared to the comfort of life lived before. Change becomes the new reality— the cost of a new freedom.

A new freedom can result in heartbreak. Having to leave behind something or someone loved and cherished, the inability to right a wrong— this creates a gap, a break, a tear where once the heart was whole and protected. Heartbreaking seems to be part of the human condition.

Can there be joy from heartbreak? Yes. "The joy of the Lord is my strength" says Nehemiah 8:10 which means that a believer's true, enduring strength comes from God's presence, love, and secured victory rather than personal, fleeting emotions or external circumstances. It is an unshakable, divine empowerment—a refuge and stronghold—that provides stamina, peace, and resilience during challenges and times of heartbreak.

Heartbreak is the launchpad into God’s loving arms. The Father yearns for his children to come to Him— unwashed, imperfect, needy. His promise to never forsake nor leave is true. "I will not forsake you" says Hebrews 13:5— which quotes God saying, "Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you" (NIV). This promise emphasizes God’s constant presence, encouraging contentment and freedom from fear. God loves and draws near to the brokenhearted— Psalm 34:18 promises that "The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit" (NIV). This verse offers comfort, highlighting God’s proximity to those in pain and his role in healing emotional distress.

It is a good reminder that the joy of the Lord does not have an upper limit.

When we stand at an entrance, the spirit finds its strength in curiosity and courage.

finding my paint brushes

A redirection by the Divine always leads to a better path. When a door closes, the human spirit is designed to look forward rather than lingering on the past— so we heed the saying: ‘Don’t look back— that’s not the way you’re going.’

There is a greater energy found in moving forward than looking back. This is— redirection and an unstoppable momentum. When we allow our spirit to be led by grace and positivity, we pass into the next chapter and find it painted with brighter horizons.

what the violin teaches me

The echo of a Celtic violin returns to me. I hear stories in the music strains— echoing in my heart and soul. The Celtic Fog Music Project | 2026 is underway.

Playing in the Fog.

Drop The Reins will share behind-the-scenes music sessions of the Celtic Fog Project 2026 ~ Playing in the Fog with subscribers.

drop the reins

The human spirit can trust the journey, closing doors on the past with gratitude and opening new ones with courage, knowing that the “key” to every door is Faith.

It is a time to Drop The Reins.

doing something really beautiful

‘If I had not the Music—
I would be without the love;
If I had not the writing—
I would be without the Song;

If I had not the Art—
I would be without the words; and
If I had not the horse—
I would not have learned how to Dance.

~ G.S. 2026

In a departure from my usual topics, today I am writing about doors, doorways, and exits. Praying for a ‘Door to open’ did not prepare me for the open door that became my Exit. A suddenly comes, a time that surprises, shocks, uproots, causes one to question everything, and results in shaking one’s faith quite violently— a time when growth is required and a letting go to maintain peace within.

Doorways are the sacred “in-between” spaces. They remind us that life is a series of transitions. The spirit doesn’t just jump from one room to another; it lingers in the threshold, gathering the lessons of the past before stepping into the future. This is where resilience is born—in the quiet moment of deciding to cross over, even when the destination is a mystery.

The human spirit is the ultimate gatekeeper and architect of our lives. With an uplifting perspective, doors are not designed to lock us in, but to allow us to intentionally move between stages of life, growth, and joy.

The Spirit as Gatekeeper: Choosing New Doors

The human spirit possesses immense power, which should never be surrendered. We are the masters of our own “doorways,” and by choosing to see ourselves as valuable—like “gold”—we gain the strength to walk through new doors.

While we may fear what lies behind a closed door or a door that has yet to appear, the human spirit allows us to move forward with a “little push,” trusting that the unknown can lead to something better. And— we gain courage as we proceed.

The spirit thrives when we stop focusing on fear and instead recognize that every challenge is a potential doorway, often hidden in shadows, that leads to a higher state of awareness as— we embrace the opportunity to overcome our fears.

Doorways as Transformations

I do not naturally look at life like a growth opportunity. I am more of the ‘carpet my rut’ until I become so compromised that I search for an escape hatch. Doorways are not just wood and metal; they are significant spiritual transitions, allowing us to pass from one state of being (fearful an immovable) into a new, brighter reality— of a new freedom.

There is a door inside the deepest part of the heart. When we are still, the human spirit can unlock this passage, entering a place of sanctuary and healing. Because we face our fears and go through the doorway, whether entrance or exit— we enter an inner peace.

Exits, perhaps most importantly, represent our freedom. The human spirit cannot be easily contained; it inherently understands that when a space— a job, a relationship, or a mindset—no longer serves our growth, we have the power to leave. An exit isn’t an ending; it’s a release. It is the spirit’s way of saying, “I have outgrown this horizon, and I am seeking a wider one.”

And this is where I am today. No quibbles, no bargaining, no making deals and trying to turn the tide— I am accepting the open door as an exit. Sometimes the most important act of the spirit is to exit the open door and let things— people—go, releasing what no longer fits in our life to make room for new blessings.

This is— The Power of Release.

Ultimately, doors are the physical rhythm of our inner journey. They prove that we are never truly stuck. As long as there is a handle to turn or a threshold to cross, the human spirit remains a restless, beautiful force of continual beginning.

When we stand at an exit, the spirit finds its strength in curiosity and courage.

Exits as New Beginnings

An exit is not an ending; it is a redirection by the Divine to a better path. When a door closes, the human spirit is designed to look forward rather than lingering on the past, allowing us to recognize the new doors that have opened. There is a greater energy found in moving forward than looking back. This is— redirection and an unstoppable momentum. When we allow our spirit to be led by grace and positivity, we become unstoppable, passing through exits and finding that the next chapter is filled with brighter horizons.

The spirit understands that closing a door on a previous version of ourselves is a sign of growth—that we are ready to change into who we truly are meant to be.

Drop The Reins

Ultimately, the human spirit finds its highest expression when it trusts the journey, closing doors on the past with gratitude and opening new ones with courage, knowing that the “key” to every door is faith.

In looking squarely, not behind or in front, every creative journal I have made is about changing and welcoming new horizons, of daring and braving, of vision boards and dreaming of more. So this is not the time for fear in facing this great transition in life.

It is a time to Drop The Reins and trust.

doorways

‘If I had not the Music— I would be without the love;
If I had not the writing— I would be without the Song;

If I had not the Art— I would be without the words; and
If I had not the horse— I would not have learned how to Dance.

~ G.S. 2026

It’s good to Drop The Reins .

UPDATE. I love playing Celtic Violin. The echo of this music style returns again and again to me— and has done so throughout my life. I hear stories spun in the notes of the music strains— echoing in my heart and soul. The inspiration behind Celtic Fog Music Project | 2026 is:

The echo of listening to the fjord harmonies of cinematic landscapes— in arrangements to mirror natural scenery, misty highlands, and ancient forests.

My beginnings on Substack came about in Winter 2023 through the participation in my very first Winter Writer’s Sanctuary of . Most importantly, I continue my writing.

Bits

The echo of listening

In the stillness there is found a connection— to inspiration, to imagery, and to the need for spilling forth of one’s soul in the language of words and artwork.

When we call out— it is our voice that returns to us. Each echo— ours.

When we listen to our memories— it is our own remembered images that echo back to us. Each echo— a telling of our story.

When we play music— it is our notes that echo the emotions we harbor and sent forth like sailing ships to sea. Each echo— a new wave.

When we hear the echo of our listening— we are able to hear our authentic life coming back to is. Each echo— new in time.

The echo of listening is a sound repeated by reflection.

[paraphrased from ‘Echo’.]

Bridles

Listening to the Sight of a Ballet performance and Echoes of violins

The Schuler Arts Center of Coeur d’Alene played host to The World Ballet Company performance of ‘A Sparkling Storybook Fairytale— Cinderella’ this week. My granddaughter and I attended this sparkling storybook presentation as her birthday present— and to inspire her natural ability as a young ballerina-in-training.

A beautiful ballet sound is of the dance echoed by the dancers— and the lights casting across the stage and the ornate backdrops telling the storybook fairytale without a word uttered or a voice in song. And yet, the echo can be heard loud and clear for the audience to listen to.

The music of Johann Strauss fills the auditorium as the ballet commences…

Act I
Cinderella lives in sorrow after her mother’s death. Her father has remarried a harsh woman with two cruel daughters, and he is too afraid of his new wife to protect his daughter, leaving her alone to suffer in silence.

The morning unfolds with the usual household chaos, while Cinderella endures harsh treatment from her Stepmother and stepsisters. Daydreaming about a better life, Cinderella thinks of her Fairy Godmother, who then suddenly appears with invitations to a royal ball. The Stepsisters excitedly prepare for the event, but Cinderella, with no gown to wear, believes she must stay home instead.

As her stepsisters bicker and struggle through dance lessons, Cinderella easily follows each step with grace, enraging her Stepmother. The Fairy Godmother’s helpers secretly arrive and Cinderella is taken to an enchanted garden, where magic transforms her rags into a dazzling gown, a pumpkin into a carriage, and mice into horses. The Fairy Godmother gives her crystal slippers and warns she must return from the royal ball before midnight.

Intermission

Act II
At the ball, the King and Queen greet their guests. The Prince is uninterested until Cinderella, unrecognizable to her Stepmother and stepsisters, enters and he is captivated by her beauty. He offers her exotic oranges, which the Stepsisters steal.

As midnight nears, the Fairy Godmother reappears. Cinderella flees, leaving behind a glass slipper. The Prince, now desperately in love, vows to find her.

He searches the kingdom far and wide, but cannot find any maiden whose foot fits into the shoe. Back home, Cinderella treasures the matching slipper while her stepsisters brag about the ball.

At last, the Prince arrives. The Stepsisters fail to force the slipper on their feet, no matter how hard they try. In the commotion, Cinderella accidentally reveals the other slipper. The Prince recognizes her, and they begin their happily ever after.

~ synopsis, Cinderella | World Ballet Company

… music of violins is breathtaking as much as the dazzling back-drop scene creations, meticulously sewn costumes, a global cast of ballet virtuosos— dancers from across the world, delivering precision, passion, and ballet brilliance in every leap, jetê and pirouette— every visual detail is crafted to perfection.

And as I listen to the echo of this Ballet— I can imagine I am clutching a bag full of gold coins— one coin especially of the ballerina Ekaterina as Cinderella for our performance, posing for photos in the foyer prior to the ballet— and I commented on her beauty and she replied with such grace to my compliment. My darling, young granddaughter would not pose with Ekaterina out of shyness (?) but chose a beautiful ‘Cinderella’ crystal memento keychain instead. A beautiful performance and echoes.

Drop The Reins

Celtic Fog Project 2026 ~ in the echoes of violins

I love playing in the fog. I once saw a man playing his bagpipes in the park early one morning as I passed by to work. The sun shone through the fog surrounding him in a golden glow haze and the sounds of the bagpipe drifted across the grassland haunting and shrill. I was not listening to the echo of my own soul that wished to stop and play. But the echo remains— regardless of my poor choice.

I love playing Celtic Violin. The echo of this music style returns again and again to me— and has done so throughout my life, along with mimicking the brogue accent. I hear stories told in the notes of the music strains— echoing in my heart and soul. No other music moves me quite like Celtic music. It is time to find out why.

The echo of listening to the fjord harmonies of cinematic landscapes— arrangements that mirror natural scenery, misty highlands, and ancient forests inspires the Celtic Fog Music Project | 2026.

Celtic music originates from the Celtic nations of the British Isles, including Ireland, Scotland, Wales, Cornwall, and the Isle of Man. A variety of instruments are used to produce this original, melancholy, and energy stimulating genre of music:

Celtic Fjord Violin— or Irish fiddle, central to Celtic music as the lead instrument.

Bouzouki, Banjo, and Mandolin— stringed instruments, adapted into Celtic music, provide rhythmic and melodic support, often used in folk ensembles.

Tin Whistle— a small, portable flute-like instrument with six finger holes, the tin whistle produces bright, melodic tones and is a staple in Celtic music.

Irish Flute— traditionally wooden, the Irish flute is used for reels and jigs, offering a warm, resonant sound distinct from classical silver flutes.

Bagpipes— including Scottish Highland bagpipes and Uilleann pipes, these instruments use a leather bag to supply air to the chanter and drones, producing a continuous, haunting sound.

Bodhrán— (my favorite rhythm instrument) a frame drum covered with animal skin, played with a tipper or hand, the bodhrán provides rhythmic foundation in Celtic music.

Bones— small wooden pieces tapped together to create percussive rhythms, often used in folk sessions for added texture. Similar to the ‘spoons’ of the American South.

Listening to the Echo

‘If I had not the music— I would be without the Love;
If I had not the writing— I would be without the Song;

If I had not the art— I would be without the Words; and
If I had not the horse— I would not know how to Dance.

~ G.S. 2026

It’s good to Drop The Reins in life and listen to one’s echoes.

Ode To Self

I can go my way
And close my eyes
To those about me.

Creating my things
Fulfilling my dreams
In hopes of discovering me.

Or, I can invite others
To come alongside me
On the road of more.

Creating our things
And finding our joy
In all we do together.

Turn
Oh, Artist Me.

G.S.

Bits

A bit is the piece of equipment—usually metal, rubber, or synthetic material—that is inserted into a horse's mouth and serves as a crucial component of a bridle. It is the primary means of communication and control between the rider and the horse, allowing the rider to guide, slow down, or stop the horse by applying pressure to sensitive areas in the mouth.

For those who do not know Lexicology is the study of words examining the structure, function, and development of vocabulary within a language. Key related fields include etymology (origin and history of words), morphology (internal structure and formation), and lexicography (the practice of compiling dictionaries).

On changing direction

Reflections on Change Your Mind and Your Life Will Follow. I am listening to Karen Casey’s audiotape of ‘Change Your Mind and Your Life Will Follow - 12 Simple Principles’. Many years ago I purchased a copy of her Twelve Step meditation book Each Day a New Beginning then loaned it to a friend. Her insights and words are invaluable as a reminder to keep recovery simple. I will state clearly that I qualify for almost every recovery program known to mankind. So, with 40 years of continuous recovery from a plethora of addictive behaviors and substances, for me, practicing a program to ensure spiritual fitness is a daily must.

I have never yet known a person who asked God in the morning to stay sober and then ended up drunk or high that day.

Keep it simple and repeat.

For this week I have been listening attentively to the audio part on Disengage from Chaos and the second gem entitled Don’t Look Past Your Own Nose. It takes all the courage one can muster to decide to get sober and then to stay sober. But that is only the beginning. We live in a world filled with other misfits. We have to learn how to navigate among the self-centered and selfish without losing our recovery. What I have found out is a lot about me minding my own business and getting on with the business of living my own life. Minding especially my own tongue and remembering that I do have an allegorical bit in my mouth in controlling my direction and thoughts, for guidance, and to turn away from danger.

Bridles

A bridle represents a tool for restraint, control, and guidance, symbolizing God’s discipline, the need for self-control, and the management of speech.

On pathways

Being a writer, choosing the right words and one’s manner of speech is necessary to convey proper meaning and emotion. A writer is also an editor and a lifelong student of languages - who must bridle their tongue at times, practicing self-discipline, yet on other occasions explode using strong words to make a point or support a core value.

A writer is courageous who is vulnerable in sharing their truths and turns onto their own special path - not the path of least resistance or the most popular.

Reins

In the Bible, while the heart is associated with thoughts and intent, the "reins" specifically emphasize the deepest emotions and, at times, conscience or subconscious desires in the mind.

As an equestrian, I understand the symbolism found in the Bible and love the practical application of horsemanship and riding experience. In Jonathan Field's horsemanship program, reins are viewed as a tool to balance control and power. He emphasizes that reins should never be used in isolation but as part of a communication system that includes the rider's seat, legs, and overall "feel".

& open doors

Communication is key between a horse and rider, between a child of God and The Father. It has come to my awareness how often I have headed out into life on my own. Hurrying to do my best and pushing and striving and competing to be noticed.

Follow-Up: I am to turn and go through the open doors God provides. Ask, Seek, and Knock. I hear two words: “Wait” and “Hope”. God has noticed me and knows my efforts (or lack of). Isn’t God’s opinion the only opinion that truly matters in life?

I'm a child of the plains of Colorado. Blue jeans and cowboy boots, old time fiddlers and farmers, and the first PRCA cowboys and cowgirls. I loved and feared horses, people, and change. I am a Writer | Artist | Equestrian | Performer | Graced

May God’s grace be with you today.

Drop The Reins

When God in His mysterious ways, His wonders to amaze. Have faith to share and inspire others to rise and drop the reins. Let God be in control. This is my post.

My beginnings on Substack came about in Winter 2023 through the participation in my very first Winter Writer’s Sanctuary of . And the second, came just at the right time.

Committing to an artist’s life involves a profound leap of faith: a decision to silence doubt, listen to the inner voice of creativity, and actively build a world that supports artistic expression. This journey from overcoming fear to preparing for a gallery show and a Celtic music recording project is a testament to the importance of following one’s heart and embracing the transformative power of art. Creating empowers the artist to change and explore new worlds by following their heart.

Bits

The Imperative of Following Your Heart

{SELF-TRUST}
For an artist, the heart is the primary compass. Following it means acknowledging that art is not just a hobby, but a vital part of one's identity and contribution to the world. It is no wonder the artist’s emotions and mind can spin like a compass out of control when polar opposites collide.

Literally, the core meaning is the two opposites at the poles of a spectrum. For example, the North and South Poles represent extreme opposites in terms of climate and location. Metaphorically, it describes concepts, behaviors, or opinions that are entirely contrary or diametrically opposed. For example, happiness and sadness can be considered polar opposites in emotional terms. The “polar opposite” is significant in both daily dialogue and academic settings, illustrating extreme differences in a range of contexts, from personal relationships to abstract discussions. It highlights the idea of duality, and in a positive outlook can often invoke deeper discussions about variance in thoughts, beliefs, and characteristics.

The artist must embrace self-care and have a genuine awareness of the possibility of duality of happening in their environment and relationships. It involves:

Trusting Your Intuition: Embracing the unique vision that only you can bring to life, rather than conforming to trends.

Valuing Your Work:
Recognizing the inherent worth of creative expression, which supersedes financial concerns.

Living Authentically:
Aligning daily life and choices with the values of a creative existence.

Bridles

Committing to the Artist's Life and Overcoming Doubt

{SELF-WORTH}
The decision to open an art studio is a powerful act of commitment. This physical space serves as a sanctuary and a declaration of intent. Within its walls, one can tackle the inevitable doubts and misgivings about art sales and commercial viability.

Reframing Sales:
Viewing art sales not as a judgment of worth, but as a way to share your vision with others who connect with it.

Embracing Resilience:
Developing a thick skin against rejection, which is a natural part of any creative field.

Focusing on the Process:
Prioritizing the act of creation itself over the outcome, ensuring a continuous flow of inspiration.

Reins

The Power of Friendships and Partnerships

{SELF-BELONGING}
The artist’s life need not be a solitary pursuit. Incorporating friendships and new alliances provides a crucial support system. The trick is belonging to yourself first so you can share yourself with others without losing yourself. It’s being vulnerable but employing self-preservation at the same time. Your own deep sense of belonging sets relationships free from head games and codependency to become positive and nurturing in reciprocity. Your sense of value comes from within first not from seeking external validation. Then, strong and lasting friendships and partnerships are formed.

Building a Creative Alliance:
Engaging with other artists for mutual inspiration, critique, and encouragement.

Openness to New Ideas:
Being receptive to collaborations and interdisciplinary partnerships that can spark innovative new directions in one’s art.

Shared Journey:
Finding strength in a community that understands the highs and lows of a creative path.

Drop The Reins

The Gallery Showing: A New Beginning

{SELF-CONFIDENCE}
The culmination of this journey is often a major milestone, such as a first gallery showing in 20 years with all new works. This is a moment of both vulnerability and triumph.

A Celebration of Growth:
An opportunity to showcase the evolution of one's work and self over two decades.

Sharing Your Vision:
Presenting the new collection as a personal statement, born from a renewed commitment to the artist's life.

Inspiring Others:
Demonstrating that it is never too late to return to one's passion and pursue artistic dreams.

Ode to Audacity

The Horse Who Loved To Dance

A coat of burning embers, a soul of molten gold,
A story etched in rhythm, of a spirit fierce and bold.
Oh, Audacity! The name you wore like a crown of living flame,
No saddle could ever truly hold, no bridle ever tame.

With the power of the mountain Cobb, the Thoroughbred’s keen grace,
You brought a regal fire to the arena’s quiet space.
A flash of chestnut lightning, a tail like a silken plume,
You commanded every corner, you brightened every room.

We remember the tilt of your noble head, the spark within your eye,
The way you’d lift your scarlet knees as if to touch the sky.
To ride you was to feel the earth pulse beneath your feet,
A dance of strength and elegance, demanding and complete.

Now the pastures of the Rainbow Bridge are richer for your stride,
Where you gallop without shadow, with nothing left to hide.
The bit is gone, the girth is loose, the heavy work is through,
But the silence in the stable blocks is heavy, wanting you.

O fiery mare, O dancer! Though you’ve crossed the final line,
In every perfect half-pass, memories of you still shine.
Never forgotten by those who felt your heartbeat through the reins,
The legend of Audacity forevermore remains.

Forever bold, forever bright, and dancing free.

~ G.S.

{SELF-AWARENESS}
Ultimately, the importance of following one’s heart as an artist lies in the fulfillment found in a life lived authentically and creatively. By overcoming doubt, building community, and embracing new ideas, the artist embarks on a path that is not just about making art, but about making a life of profound meaning and purpose.

And, I love dancing in the fog.

How to Drop the Reins ? This is my experience of riding by dropping the reins, eyes closed, lifting arms freely straight out from the shoulders, and allowing the horse to go into canter. And then I felt the ‘float and fly’ happen. The horse and I moved as One. We flew as if we shared one set of wings ! Reminder: Drop The Reins more in life.

My beginnings on Substack came about in Winter 2023 through the participation in my very first Winter Writer’s Sanctuary of . For this I am thankful. Now for the 2nd.

Bits

Fog. Grey. Hush. Mystical. Quiet.

Paintbrushes. The color of fog brings to mind my favorite watercolor palette of Payne’s Grey, Burnt Sienna, Burnt Umber, and Ultramarine Blue. Many snowy landscapes were created with this simple palette with the addition of Titanium White and Black India ink. A purest watercolourist I am not. I love the spill and flow of the process and finishing with dry brush and black ink for definition and effects.

Memories. The color grey reminds me of looking through silvery grey, black and white photography albums. Of relatives past and fewer still present. The beautiful crisp edges of black and white photography was something I came to appreciate working at The California Horsetrader, a horse & ranch magazine created by its owner Carolyn Read, horsewoman extraordinaire. At age 63 she took the Snafflebit Reining Championship in Las Vegas, Nevada on her $3,000 pony Reno. They won against the $100K horses. Carolyn’s love for black and white photography was always displayed in her magazine.

Bridles

Hush. I hear and see the snort of the horse’s breath as we ride through the pasture in the 28 degree winter’s day. There is no cold that can keep me from my Dressage lessons or the horse named Audacity. I didn’t ever think I could fall in love with a horse, but from the moment I saw her break free and rumble into the arena hooves flying with the lead mare Mya just behind her, it was love at first sight. I was in Awe of this fiery chestnut mare and the size of her! The Welsh Cobb Thoroughbred mare known for her sass and persnickety personality made me even more fascinated and terrified at the same time. There were times she was too hot to ride, even for the professional riding instructors, but I never held it against her. Her fire was contagious.

Mystical. Her breath in the wintery air, iced kisses in the fog, is a memory I keep close.

Further into the fog … for Music that is breathtaking as much as the scenery creation.

Magic of Winter ~ The Royal Elven Orchestra
(certainly created by AI)

Drop The Reins

Quiet. My violin has been silent for a year now. My last recording sessions seem to complete a chapter in my lifebook. Ashokan Farewell was recorded and played better than I ever imagined. With it, I felt again the magic of playing with background tracks and more skilled musicians than me. Satisfaction, fulfillment, a win to celebrate and take a much deserved pause. This violinist requires quiet and inactivity to create. The world I enter when I play is worth returning to. There are music plans for 2026. I call it ‘under construction’ as the road becomes more defined. It’s a bit grey.

But, I love playing in the fog.

The Fog, Audacity & I

A coat of burnt sienna, a mane of fiery gold,
We step into the morning, defiant of the cold.
Audacity, pure fire-brand, with spirit sharp and bright,
A chestnut flash of courage against the wall of white.

The winter fog hangs heavy, a curtain on the ground,
Where rhythmic, muffled hoofbeats are the only living sound.
I see her breath in silver plumes, a dragon’s steady flare,
As we march toward the arena through the biting, crystal air.

Her ears are pricked with interest, seeking out the gate,
That heavy neck a curve of strength, a wild and noble weight.
I feel the heat beneath the cinch, the power in her stride,
The way she carries me as though she wears a crown of pride.

The arena fence looms starkly, a pale and wooden line,
I reach to stroke her velvet nose and wish that she were mine—
To hold beyond the threshold, to keep within the day,
Before the mist begins to thin and dreams all drift away.

For though I feel the saddle pull and hear her gentle neigh,
The stable stall is empty now, the fire turned to grey.
The gallop that we’re sharing is a phantom’s graceful flight,
A trail we ride in silence toward a far and Holy light.

I’ll find her in the winter haze whenever frost is deep,
The mare who wouldn’t settle, the soul I couldn’t keep.
Ride on, my brave Audacity, through pastures gold and fair,
Until the day I join you in the crisp, celestial air.

~ G.S.

What does it mean to Drop the Reins? This is my experience of riding with eyes closed, dropping the reins and lifting my hands straight out from the shoulders, allowing the horse to go to canter at will on a leadline. I felt the float and fly happen. The horse and I moved as one. Miraculous and unimaginably Wonderful! It’s good to Drop The Reins more in life.

Bits

When memories stirs the embers.

The weather becomes a winter wonderland. The snow covered ground pure white linen; a covering of pureness and fresh beginnings. A new start, a re-start, a reminder that second chances are always available. Just ask, seek, and knock. This is Jesus ground. If you do not know Jesus as your Savior, than this will not make sense at all.

Definitely a time of wonder and miracles. I’m glad I am alive and here.

I have spent a lot of time this year remembering days of old, times past, and lives lost, as well as places, people, and things. Right now, I am looking at The Present: this moment ~ this gift of time. There are many miracles my family of origin experienced, times of divine healing, times of divine Grace, times of Awe that takes the breath away, and now - tears of joy for just being Here.

Memories are pictures the mind treasures and God helps us to remember to not lose Hope, to keep the Faith, and allow the Holy Spirit to take the reins.

Bridles

Change Your Mind and Your Life Will Follow.

Direction. Monday is my ‘Rise+Shine' day for making life adventures, beginning and continuing creative work flows, and writing a new post for Drop The Reins. It’s a day I calendar out to remember family of origin, my roots. The title is borrowed from the daily call from my dad telling my sister and I to “Rise and shine, girls!” In a beautiful way, it is also biblical, found in Isaiah to ‘Rise and Shine

"Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord rises upon you" Isaiah 60:1

In so many ways, the scripture spoken to rise out of darkness and reflect God's glory, as nations and kings are drawn to this divine light, promising hope and transformation is pertinent to our lives. It prophesies of restoration and a new life.

In my thoughts are the questions I have never been able to ask my parents, perhaps out of respect to not bring up unpleasant times or decisions that caused the family so many great trials and persecutions. The researcher in me studies word meanings and digs for truth and labels behaviors, and then places these wonderings in God’s Hands. I have learned I must do the groundwork and leave the outcome to the Divine.

This is my stable, not filled with whinnies and snorts and stomps, but with six grandchildren, noise, messes, bad attitudes, piles of dirty dishes and sticky floors. I take breaks and go outside to stare at the skies and the beautiful scenery of Saint Maries with tears in my eyes and a heart filled with thankfulness. Life is messy and smelly. And, there is even a scripture about this: a proverb often understood as a commentary on productivity versus tidiness, suggesting that achieving growth or results ("harvest") requires accepting the hard work and potential difficulties ("messes") that come with it. A clean or "empty" stable can imply a lack of activity and profit. In application, it can mean the absence of living things and their presence, and their presents in sharing life with others.

The Passion Translation notes that a clean stable is an empty one, suggesting that work will create messes. Similarly, the King James Version states that without oxen, the crib is clean, but much increase comes from the strength of the ox, while the New International Version says where there are no oxen, the manger is empty, but abundant harvests come from the ox's strength. Proverbs 14:4

Choosing a direction when no direction appears is an awkward place to be. Here I am in the middle of a dysfunctional family with problems I cannot fix, cannot solve, and a resilient attitude for having fun. It reminds me of Jonathan Fields and his view on the hierarchy of a herd of horses. The biting and kicking that happens to establish leadership for the number one spot, then the number two spot, the number three spot and down the line to the last member of the herd - each having a designated place.

Have Your Herd? Find Your Sweet Spot

Life has its Sweet Spot - the place where everyone is comfortable in being themselves and growing together as a “herd”. Jonathan Fields, author of The Art of At Liberty - For Horses says, "You were born to live in the 'sweet spot,' and this is where your authentic power lies." In relationship to your horse and the freedom of groundwork training, in developing the right hierarchy of leadership involving respect and pressure/comfort, Fields describes the “sweet spot” as the discovery of what motivates us, allowing us to align our personality with our purpose to create a “Good Life”:

The Sparketype® Connection. He often links the sweet spot to his Sparketype® framework—an “imprint” for work that makes you come alive, fills you with meaning, and provides a sense of flow and joy. Navigating Uncertainty: in his book Uncertainty, Fields notes that there is a “sweet spot between the known and the unknown where originality happens,” and the key to creativity is being able to linger there without panicking. I have certainly felt this in The Arena.

A Sparketype® is a proprietary archetyping system developed by Jonathan Fields that identifies your “source code” for work that makes you come alive.

Unlike traditional personality tests that focus on what you are good at, Sparketypes focus on the internal impulses that drive you toward work that feels nourishing, meaningful, and energizing.

As of 2025, over one million people have used the Sparketype Assessment1 to discover their unique profiles. As a writer and creative Journaler, I love exploring behaviors and archetypes. It is the age old question: Why do I do the things I do? (And inversely: Why do I not do the things I want to do?)

Here are 10 specific “impulses” or archetypes in the framework:

• The Maker: Driven to turn ideas into reality.

• The Scientist: Driven to solve puzzles and figure things out.

• The Maven: Driven by learning for its own sake.

• The Essentialist: Driven to create order from chaos.

• The Performer: Driven to enliven interactions and performances.

• The Warrior: Driven to organize and lead people.

• The Sage: Driven to teach and share wisdom.

• The Advocate: Driven to champion others and causes.

• The Advisor: Driven to provide guidance and support.

• The Nurturer: Driven to care for and support others.

‘Ask yourself what makes you come alive and then go and do it. It may not be easy nor simple to start, but the payoff is Eternal. This is Daring Greatly.’
~ ginger stockwell of Find Your Music

Have You Heard? Jesus is The Leader.

Courageous in the face of wondering. I have heard all my life of those who ‘have a friend in Jesus’ and I want this, desire this with all my heart. So, I guess I am confessing that I do not know my Savior Jesus as my friend. I still imagine a yardstick measuring my life of Good List and Bad List and Unforgivable List. In writing my childhood memoir, I spent time exploring my spirituality and my belief system from earliest remembrance to my late teens. I knew of God as a child. God was known to me as a Real Presence indescribable but real - by name: My Father in Heaven; by adjectives: Glorious and Divine, Trustworthy, and Eternal.

Courageous in continuing groundwork. Without knowing, but trusting - without clarity, but with eyes of Faith. I believe by faith this Jesus is my friend, because scripture says this as well:

"No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you." — English Standard Version (ESV)

Both beliefs, trusting and having faith rely on establishing clear personal space and leadership.

Balance. Oh the fun in a dysfunctional (household) stable. Clearly there needs to be a hierarchy established for order. One of the methods to establish discipline in riding was taught to me by my late instructor Kim Moyer and founder of Kaizen Farm - her spirit resides in Heaven and continues in our hearts.

The rule of pressure translates to any stable or household.

Fly → Mosquito → Blackbird → Eagle

In horse training and riding lessons, the analogy of the Fly, Mosquito, Blackbird, and Eagle (credited to natural horsemanship clinicians like Pat Parelli) is used to teach the four phases of pressure. The goal is to always start with the lightest touch and only increase intensity if the horse does not respond, immediately releasing the pressure the moment they do.

Children do not respond to yelling, barking, or striking and neither do horses.

The Four Phases of Pressure

The Fly (Phase 1): This is the lightest possible cue, such as a whisper, a slight shift in your weight, or a gentle rhythmic movement of a lead rope. A horse (or child) is sensitive enough to feel a single fly land on its skin; training aims to have them respond at this level.

The Mosquito (Phase 2): If the horse ignores the “Fly,” you increase the pressure to a light, steady touch—similar to how a mosquito might feel when it lands and stays on the skin. A slight prick or tap to get their attention focusing on what is being asked of them, applicable to a horse or a child.

The Blackbird (Phase 3): This level is firmer and more demanding, intended to get the horse’s (or child’s) attention without being aggressive. It is often described as a medium-level physical cue or rhythmic energy. The leader is firm and remains calm.

The Eagle (Phase 4): This is the most effective and firm pressure, used only if the previous three were ignored. It is an “ultimatum” designed to make the horse move, but it must be immediately released the second they try to respond correctly. Again, applicable to children as a corrective measure to gain focus and perspective pertaining to who is the leader and who is not - re-establishing order and a working partnership.

Christmas Reins

Many Decembers have come and gone. Life with Horses and Life with Horses in My Outlook is a gift of grace given with lessons learned carried in my saddlebags of life.

To those of us who do not have the Hallmark Christmas family (far from it) - we can Hope, we can Believe, we can Laugh, we can experience Joy, and we can discover Our Friend in Jesus.

May our Joy reflect the glory of Our Savior Jesus.

Drop The Reins

It's training day every day With God. I have my winter boot wraps and reindeer antlers on. I am looking forward to Christmas, to its trials and tests, to family and love, and laughter and prayer when times get rough from too much imbibing and tempers.

Our families are not perfect, but just as there is a reason for the Season, there is a reason that you and I are exactly where we are right now. For those of you who have no worries and all is terrific, thank your God for such grace, but as for us who often live with bated breath, waiting for the next shoe to drop - may we find our Strength in Jesus, our Love in His Presence, and reflect His Way this Christmas Day.

Blessings to each and every one here and your loved ones.

P.S.

What does it mean to Drop the Reins? This is my experience of riding with eyes closed, dropping the reins, lifting my hands straight out from the shoulders, allowing the horse to go to canter at will on a leadline. I felt the float and fly happen where the horse and I moved as one. Miraculous and Unimaginably Wonderful! Drop The Reins of life and allow God to hold them.

Thank you for being here. Please leave a comment. Share your own faith about friendship with Jesus. Your subscription encourages me and your paid subscription gives me wings!

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Bits

When family stirs the embers.

The weather outside looks like a snow globe, just waiting to be shook to create the swirling of snowflakes. Call it Narnia as this story unfolds - a Quest, a Protagonist and an Antagonist. In such a beautiful landscape comes adversity showing up by casting its dark shadow and ugliness. This is called holiday family dysfunction.

Definitely out of my control. Can I relocate to the moon?

I yearn for the days of old of the entire German town coming together at our Grandmother’s house, every room filled with wall to wall men and women laughing and joking and telling hilarious farm stories. My dad and grandfather are in the living room seated on stools with banjo and fiddle playing tunes for all. Great Uncle John is on his harmonica following their tunes. Kids are banned to the outdoors, but the delicious smells from the kitchen waft outside to us alongside the sound of the hoe-downs and western ballads. Waiting for the dinner bell to ring, we cousins play hide-and-seek and compare our new outfits: blue jeans, shirts and cowboy boots. I wish for a pair of white cowgirl boots with brown wing tips like the girl at church, but my mother purchased suitable split leather boots for my sister and me. Honestly, I am glad I have a new pair of boots and am a cowgirl. Times at Grandma’s in the small town of NW Kansas is always the most magical time of year.

Memories balance the bad. Keepsake them close to the heart.

Bridles

Change Your Mind and Your Life Will Follow Is Courageous.

Direction. ‘My Perfect Day' is every Wednesday when I write new posts for Drop The Reins. It’s a day I calendar out to remember the horses, recall my four years of dressage lessons, and reflect on dreams of riding. Along the St. Joe River there are no riding schools. The closest riding stables are found in Coeur d’Alene some 60 miles away or in the opposite direction to Deary, Idaho, and a place called Stanton Farms.

Choosing a direction when no direction appears is an awkward place to be. Here I am. Smack in the middle of a dysfunctional family with problems I cannot fix and I cannot solve. It reminds me of Jonathan Fields and his view on the hierarchy of a herd of horses. The biting and kicking that happens to establish leadership and then the number two spot, the number three spot and down the line to the last member of the herd.

Have You Heard? I’m The Leader.

We all want the family to find its Sweet Spot - the place where everyone is comfortable in being themselves and growing together as a “herd”. Jonathan Fields says, “If you can balance the directive leadership and the Sweet Spot you will have a horse that looks to you instead of worrying more about when a herd mate leaves.”

Courageous in the face of family dysfunction. I am still here for my circle of grandchildren after a traumatic event rocked our stable a couple years back. Not all the herd leaders are on the same lifestyle page. Hence, the dysfunction.

Speed. Each surrender seems so much harder than at the beginning of my spiritual journey some forty years ago. I am learning to surrender with greater speed. The opportunity to take early retirement allows the time to reflect and reframe my life. I find amazement in the slow down of enjoying just breathing, looking at the sky, and being alone.

Courageous facing new stressors caused by family dysfunction. I learned from my riding instructors to set firm boundaries in the arena and be bigger than Audacity, the fiery chestnut Welsh Cobb Thoroughbred mare at all times. I had to or I would not gain her respect. In fact, I would be in grave danger if she thought herself as the herd leader. So I am not too nonplussed by adult family members ensnared by their dysfunctional behavior. They just aren’t as big and as terrifying as Audacity. My goal is to respect myself and family members even if I do not respect their choices. God graced me with recovery the tools to disengage from dysfunctional lifestyles and behaviors. To keep my peace and purpose intact.

Rhythm. Finding cadence is rhythm, like writing a flow of words, composing a music score, or calendaring projects in a sequence that makes sense.

Courageous in continuing groundwork. I recall the effort it took to mirror the horse’s steps as together we practiced the half-pass using the arena railing to hold a straight line. Jonathan Field’s “Half-pass” technique and shoulder yield are fundamental horsemanship exercises focused on controlling the horse’s movement by directing their shoulders and hindquarters, both on the ground and in the saddle. These techniques help establish leadership, improve communication, and ensure safety by teaching the horse to move its mass away from the handler’s pressure.

Both techniques rely on establishing clear personal space and leadership using calm, assertive energy and consistent pressure and release, which are foundational principles of Jonathan Field’s horsemanship philosophy.

Using this concept of groundwork as a guide to calm, to restart the artistic flow, barricade the writing space time, and perfect the mindset for projects is incredibly freeing. Focus on groundwork and recalling the feel of the dirt and hooves partitions the mind from intrusive thoughts of on-going family dysfunction that is so destructive and seems to have its sole purpose of creating chaos to disrupt peace and well-being.

Balance. Dysfunctional behavior by family members in a household where I am trying to hold things together for the grandchildren creates a huge imbalance. I become exhausted, outraged, and discouraged. Darn, the dysfunction wins the round! The facedown I have experienced this past week is a tell-all. No wonder I found myself saying: “There is a God and it is not I.” Direction → Speed → Rhythm → Balance.

Courageous in training as creative time whether in writing or art or music and dedicating the time to not being interrupted, not be sideswiped emotionally or blackmailed by dysfunctional family members (without passing judgment on them.)

Learning how to improve balance for dressage and why it is important as a rider to train this in ours lives as much as we do with the horse. I say, as Artist, Creative, and Human Being this balance is needed in every activity - and it takes effort, it just doesn’t happen. Understanding what all is included beneath to support and maintain balance is very important.

Share Drop The Reins

Many Decembers have come and gone. No longer living in a 2-story, 22-window Victorian home in beautiful California or homeless for a year, living at a roadside inn in the scenic ski resort town of Kellogg. It’s been quite a journey these past 4 years with many blessings to embrace. Here’s a shout-out to The Almighty! Never forsaken and never forgotten, I refuse to deny God’s grace in the times of unexpected adversity. Having the courage to change my mind about participating in family dysfunction, courageously Saying No, finding my focus and flow, and staying the course is a gift of grace given and lessons learned- now carrying in my life saddlebags.

I want to say to those of us who do not have the Hallmark Christmas family (not even close) that we can Hope, we can Believe, we can Laugh and we can find our Joy regardless of ‘them’. It is a Let Them moment that we can embrace with a smile inside.

We can Hope, we can Believe, we can Laugh, and we can find our Joy.

The Transformative Power of Laughter in Navigating Family Dysfunction

Family dysfunction, with its intricate web of tensions, unresolved conflicts, and emotional landmines, presents a unique set of challenges that can profoundly impact individual well-being. While conventional wisdom often advocates for direct confrontation or therapy, an often-overlooked yet potent coping mechanism is the strategic use of humor and lightheartedness. Far from being a mere avoidance tactic, humor, when wielded with mindfulness and empathy, serves as a vital tool for emotional regulation, boundary setting, and fostering unexpected moments of connection within an otherwise chaotic environment. The ability to find a moment of levity amidst the chaos is a testament to human resilience and can transform seemingly insurmountable difficulties into manageable, even occasionally comical, shared experiences.

One of the primary benefits of humor in a dysfunctional setting is its capacity for cognitive reframing. It provides psychological distance from a stressful situation, allowing individuals to view the problem from a new, less threatening perspective. This mental shift can deflate the perceived severity of an issue, making it less overwhelming. For instance, a perpetually late family member, a source of frequent frustration, can be reframed not as a personal slight but as an amusing, predictable quirk, perhaps inviting a lighthearted “fashionably late” joke rather than a heated argument. This reframing doesn’t dismiss the issue entirely but provides a temporary mental reprieve, essential for managing chronic stress and building emotional resilience over time.

Think over the times of tension built from events from your family dysfunctional behavior. Sensible applied humor is an effective tension diffuser. Next time the tension is thick, take a breath and try a quip. It can interrupt power struggles and de-escalate heated arguments by introducing an unexpected element of lightness. A well-timed, gentle joke can act as a circuit breaker for rising tempers, allowing everyone a moment to breathe and regain composure before the conversation spirals into blame or defensiveness. This fosters a safer environment for communication, as shared laughter can break down social barriers and create an atmosphere of warmth and accessibility.

However, the effectiveness of humor is contingent on its style and application. Adaptive humor styles, such as affiliative humor (enhancing social bonds) and self-enhancing humor (maintaining a positive outlook), are associated with positive psychological outcomes. In contrast, maladaptive styles, including aggressive humor (sarcasm, mockery) or self-defeating humor (self-deprecation to gain approval), can exacerbate emotional distress and damage relationships further. The key is ensuring the humor lifts up, not tears down, and that all parties are, in a sense, “in on the joke”. When used inappropriately, humor can negate someone’s experience, which is a form of invalidation.

The finding a way to navigate the chaos with grace, creativity, and a sense of proportion that builds the family ties by not cutting them.

Ultimately, handling family dysfunction with humor and lightheartedness is about choosing a resilient and positive approach to a challenging situation. It is not about pretending problems do not exist, but about finding a way to navigate the chaos with grace, creativity, and a sense of proportion. By cultivating a habit of seeking out the lighter side of life and sharing those moments with others, individuals can build stronger bonds, reduce stress hormones, and create a reservoir of positive shared experiences that act as a buffer against future adversity. In a world that often demands seriousness, the ability to laugh, even at the absurdities of one’s own family dynamics, is a powerful form of self-care and a pathway to healing and growth.

Dear God, may I just join the nearest horse herd?

It’s feeling a lot like Christmas now.

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Drop The Reins

It's training day every day. With God. I have my boot wraps and antlers on.

The least amount of effort and the greatest amount of accomplishment always signifies With God for me. It is this that I experienced early in sobriety and can describe as The Praying For God's Will results in using the least amount of effort but achieving the greatest amount of progress. Artist-living-life-in the spirit.

God's will for us is to follow Him on the greatest life adventure that He has created for each one individually. When I am not in that attitude of mind walking by Faith, then I am way off track and I need to drop the reins. I want to be on The Glory Road.

May you Find your Glory Road.

Note to Self:

What does it mean to Drop the Reins {of one's entire life}? This was born from my experience of riding with eyes closed, dropping the reins and lifting both hands straight out from the shoulders forming a T, allowing the horse to go through the walk-trot-canter at will on a leadline. I felt the float and fly happen where the horse and I move as One. Heaven!

It is a great practice to drop the reins every day and Let God Reign.

This is 'Drop the Reins', thank you for being here. Please leave a comment. I enjoy reading and responding. Your subscription encourages me to continue writing.

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The Lantern Bearers

My fear of the dark began in my childhood bedroom in a brick apartment house in Denver, Colorado. I might have been 6 years old, but I’m not sure.

I would wake in the early morning hours paralyzed with fear. I could not call for my mother or utter any sound. My sister was asleep on the upper bunkbed, yet that did not comfort me. It was hard to breathe with such great petrification. My knees would shake under my covers and continue shaking until the sun rose, casting its light into the bedroom. Then and only then, I would be able to shift my body and fall asleep.

Dark rooms, dark hallways, the night time outside were all places I avoided. In my home, no one talked about being afraid. This was not a topic to bring up to discuss.

places

A participant in an art class shared the above work of art. The art work resonated with me so deeply it started me on a process, a journey of re-telling my childhood - diving head first into trauma - because I am in many ways that woman at the train station.

I began by asking questions of perspective. What I perceive at 64 is very different (at times) from what my 2 to 6 year-old self surmised. The question of location, family interaction with neighbors, set of unspoken home rules, personal space, sense of belonging to have an identity and feel ‘self’ - are self concepts of self worth and formed in places.

The question is of places in relationship to one’s environment: the affects can be lasting or momentary. Specifically, places significantly affecting one by influencing moods, behaviors, personality, and sense of identity through the physical environment's sensory stimuli, such as light, color, and nature.

influences

Let’s dive deeper and add the unseen realm - the spiritual. This is the realm that influences one’s emotions of love and trauma in either a positive or negative way. It can be a full spectrum from belonging and identity to fight and flight and numbness.

The concept of a spiritual realm influencing love and trauma is interpreted differently across spiritual and religious traditions. This influence can be positive, promoting healing and intimacy, or negative, contributing to trauma and dysfunctional relationship patterns.1

A profound and intrinsic relationship exists between trauma and spirituality that can foster emotional maturity and psychospiritual growth. The survival response embedded within trauma has the potential to catalyze authentic spiritual transformation - 2 [to transform or bring significant change quicker.]

Here are some signs of experiencing the effects of religious trauma or spiritual abuse:

• Fear and Anxiety.

• Guilt and Shame.

• Depression and Hopelessness.

• Isolation.

• Intrusive Thoughts.

• Avoidance.

• Anger or Resentment.

• Shunning or Excommunication

• Suppression of Individuality

• Unhealthy Dependency3

places we go when we feel wronged

anger
contempt
disgust
dehumanization
hate
self-righteousness

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I believe there are no mistakes in life, nor coincidences. Absolutely nothing happens by mistake. So then Why? Why do bad things happen to children? Why does tragedy strike the best of families? Why does the cancer come for the kindest relative? Why did my father do that to me? Why did my mother stand by and watch in silence?

For now, I am content with knowing their is a Divine reason behind the suffering, heartache, and heartbreak experienced by earth dwellers. I also believe there is Heaven and this is not it. I believe in the biblical view which is a hoot after surviving a childhood born into a Christian cult based on doomsday theory, terror, pain and fear.

anger
contempt
disgust

This is long term sobriety for me - 40 years and counting. The miracle of surviving long enough to get into a recovery room after failed attempts at suicide, drug addiction, fascination with evil people, suffering from a great cocktail of anorexia nervosa and bulimia, no self-esteem, no self-worth, no purpose in life - all before I turned 24. I am one of the lucky ones. I came to. Then I came to believe in an omnipotent, omnipresent High Power on loan from my first sponsor, until I could find my own God. A God of love and goodness. A God of second and third chances. Of 7 x 7 x 1000 chances. It worked.

I did not see the changes in myself, but I kept coming back because I saw the changes in others. They heard the music. I wanted to hear the music too. Earnie Larson talks about hearing the music in his book Destination Joy: Moving Beyond Fear, Loss, and Trauma in Recovery (2003) - I recommend reading this book.

Over the decades I have come to know a new happiness and joy. In the Big Book of Alcoholic’s Anonymous it’s called the promises of the program coming true.

My sister followed me into the program of recovery a few years after I got sober. We talked about the wonder of sobriety, we were miracles coming from where we did. When we talked of the shared childhood memories, our husbands stood afar off from the conspiracy sisters talking of their emotional baggage.

ANGER. CONTEMPT. DISGUST. We were angry about how we were treated, the hypocrisy we endured, and the unaccountability for the damage done to our individual selves. Our childhood had been hijacked. Our teenage years had been taken. And now as adult women: We raged. We blamed. We judged. Regardless of the caution of not carrying resentments - the biggest offender to sobriety, we dined on our hatred.

Years passed. My sister and I spoke in a couple sentences rather than hours at a time of trashing the memories of our parents participation in the life of religious deception. Our mother’s death from cancer coupled with our father’s choice to avoid all contact with family de-fueled our witch hunt fires.

But, I was still left with me.

It is said, more will be revealed. - The Big Book
This program is about spiritual growth not spiritual perfection.
I am either in recovery or relapse. Grow or go.

dehumanization
hate
self-righteousness

This feeling that I have lost the happiness and joy of the program led me to a creative shut down Fall 2024 until this summer 2025. My normal program of recovery was not working. I began searching for answers. God works wonders. I found a title of a book produced by A.A. Grapevine called The Next Frontier: Emotional Sobriety I & II. The beautiful watercolor art insert is the reproduction of the article Bill Wilson wrote for the Grapevine in January 1958. Without emotional sobriety one can never experience true freedom from unhealthy dependencies and resulting demands. But it wasn’t until reading the title of Earnie Larson’s book Destination Joy, the other part of my answer came clear: Overcoming Trauma.

I have faced and overcome my greatest fears by taking action. I have mourned and grieved my losses until I was done with the grief cycle and the grief was done with me. I have never dealt with my trauma as something to overcome.

DEHUMANIZATION. HATE. The dehumanizer was my father. My father’s dehumanizer was the Christian cult who led him to believe that he would please God by thinking of himself as a loathsome worm. That is what they called being humble. He was following their doctrine by breaking the will of his carnal-minded children via extreme physical punishment, degradation of the mind through mistruths, deprecation of self-worth, and dehumanization of the person.

I hated my father. I had murder in my heart for years. But, like the baby elephant chained to the big log, I had been programmed to believe myself helpless and hapless. With the duo life led by the family: lifetime church members / worldly music performances - I was torn between the life I hated and the life I loved. He was center of both.

SELF-RIGHTEOUSNESS. Definition: the conviction that one’s beliefs and behaviors are the most correct. I grew up being told I am a loathsome worm, but at the same time The Elect, The Chosen of God. What?

I can pick out the self-righteous individual from a group of people, but I cannot say I am that sort of person. I just had a lifetime watching one operate without controls.

I am the one that after acquiring 25 years of sobriety, I finally reached the starting gate. I stopped looking at them and started looking at me. I’m in the race and I am running, but thankfully not all character defects known to mankind have attached themselves to me. It could be a YET.

I believe I will find out the full answers to all my questions on the other side. But for now now, I can only see the threads being woven on this side of life’s tapestry at times. If I wish to see the entire tapestry of my life - the masterpiece - this will be revealed by God Himself at a date yet to be set.

For now, I have the work of overcoming trauma. Oh, Lucky Me!

And, this is what long term recovery looks like for me.

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the elusive butterfly of happiness has been chased by humanity since the beginning of time…

AT SUMMER’S END

This summer has been one of contemplation and searching for deeper insights. Why? I live in a summer party town (some call it a resort) where camping by the river, drinking beer non-stop, driving four wheelers and side-by-sides under the influence, ending the day at one of the Main Street bars for more drinking, evening karaoke, and fighting is the way of life. It’s a hoot for those who are watching sober. It’s a hoot to live in a family that walks sideways (at times) and dents downspouts on drive-byes.

40 years is now in my rear view mirror. Sobriety is my chosen lifestyle. Surprise on me! It’s not about giving up drinking (it was at first) - it’s really about coming to life and fully participating in living life! It’s where one finds wonder (and can remember it). It’s where one lives and walks as a miracle every day. This is a testament to those who showed me the way. And to those who baby-sat me in the early months, offering their couch to sleep on so I would not have to be alone with my self-deluded and insane alcoholic mind who told me I was most certainly not the alcoholic, but you should really take a look at my sister.

"Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, and today is a gift. That is why it is called the present." ~ Eleanor Roosevelt

Sober is living in the Now and the gift of sobriety is the present.

My sister followed me into sobriety when I was 5 years sober. She may be the only one I was the arrow for. As the saying goes: if there is just one person I can help, that’s all I ask. And that’s what it’s about. Being the change that someone else can see. After all, it is a program of attraction not promotion. Any alcoholic person in a seemingly hopeless state of mind and body can recover, if they are willing to get honest with themselves. No one could do it for me, nor can I do it for anyone else. But I can continue to plant seeds and be that walking miracle for one more person to see.

Sages have said that happiness is indeed a butterfly- try to catch it and it flees; sit quietly and it will light upon your shoulder…1

Where’s the butterfly?

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places we go to self-assess #13

pride
hubris
humility

pride

I normally would never tackle writing a personal post on Chapter #13. In fact, if I had not come across the quote above, I would still ignore writing on this chapter. But, my curiosity was piqued. I have been on a journey to re-discover my self-esteem and what went so rotten in the past as to have lost it!

Humility and False Pride/Hubris are at opposite ends of the spectrum. One cannot operate under both at the same time. They cancel each other out.

FOR CLARITY: it is good to feel pride in your accomplishments. Being proud of yourself when overcoming obstacles, winning a medal, baking a cake, getting a good grade, going the extra mile, etc. This type of pride is good.

So because this is the chapter on Self-Assessment, let’s continue.

The good news is we have the power to change. We can be like butterflies ourselves, but we’ve got to leave the cocoon behind if we want to fly.2

I feel pride in having 40 continuous years of sobriety. And now having 40 years in my rearview mirror, I am headed toward the next milestone. There is never an arrival point. This is a lifetime road of wonder to travel. This is the next book on my road.

Which way to Wonderland?

hubris

Hubris (false pride) is kryptonite to sobriety. False pride and ego are both founded in great cowardice, wrapped in lies and subterfuges, and self-interest.

Hubris is an inflated sense of one’s own innate abilities that is tied more to the need for dominance than to actual accomplishments.3

Hubris is a word I first heard watching the series SUITS4. The word was often thrown as a dart by the colleagues and used by Harvey Specter, the star lawyer, exclusively in his lines.

I like the word. I believe it is a great clarifier rather than flipping back and forth between pride and false-pride, and always adding a caveat for meaning.

Overcoming hubris: I will not shrink nor puff up, I shall be my right size.

humility

Finally, to the great word.

Humility = groundedness

Humility is an openness to new learning combines with a balanced and accurate assessment of our contributions, including our strengths, imperfections, and opportunities for growth.5

And so I am off to write about Cocoons. Thank you for being part of my journey.

for the now

I wish you self-esteem so high, you are~ humble.

Thank God for straight words and finding ground.

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Bits

The 4th Turning maximus (Latin)

The wind blows where it will, powered by a force to be reckoned with.

Mary was a seasoned rider, but this day she chose to ride a green horse out on the trail. The young horse named Dixie was spirited, long legged and quite a handful. Mary chose a mountain trail, one that she had traveled before on her older mare, but she had not followed the path all the way through the mountain pass.

After passing familiar landmarks and known trail spots the duo continued climbing the side of the mountain. After several minutes of the trail narrowing, Mary became a bit nervous about continuing, but decided Dixie was handling well and so she pushed forward. The trail became more twisted and with each turn of the rocky pathway, the face of the cliff was closer to them. The young woman began to search for a safe place to turn the horse around and head back down.

The trail had started to crumble at the edge, and as they were up high on the mountain, the descent over the side would be perilous at best. She decided at the next switchback, no matter how narrow, she would turn the horse around.

Mary and Dixie breasted the next corner only to discover the entire path ahead in the distance had fallen from a rockslide and there was no turnaround spot available.

The young horse quivered below her and exhaled a deep blow from its lungs. Mary sat in silence on the young horse. She had made a terrible judgment call. Their certain death warrants just got signed. They were up against the cliff rockface and the trail was too narrow for a turnaround and there was no trail to go forward. They would certainly go over the edge and end up far below in the canyon. Mary spoke:

Mary calmed herself and breathed deeply and exhaled slowly. She had heard stories of trail riders coming to an impasse, and with a True Blue horse or a Pure Gold horse, there is a way possible. But she was on a green trail horse, an inexperienced and young horse, without a bond to Mary and without the proper muscle development in the hind end to accomplish such a feat.

Mary dropped the reins and reached forward carefully to slip the bridle from Dixie. Then she spoke softly and reassuring to the young horse:

The young horse seemed to understand. Dixie stood quietly with Mary still in the saddle for some moments. Then the young horse shifted her weight to her back haunches and rose up suddenly, placing her left hoof on the cliff face. Slowly, with a weight shift and swivel, the right hoof rested on the cliff face too. By hoof placement and weight shift and slight swivel, maintaining the rearing position, Dixie used her front hooves as guides as she turned herself and Mary around on that narrow thread of a trail path. A successful turnaround and both horse and rider descended the mountain trail together.

Green to Pure Gold

Dixie went from being a green horse to Pure Gold that day on that high mountain trail. And Mary has never ceased telling the story of herself, Dixie, and The Turnaround done by a magnificent, loyal-hearted, brave, and highly intelligent young horse.1

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Bridles

The 4th Turning maximus (Latin)

Preparing for the Storm.

This is about stretching and reaching beyond what I think I can do. Preparing and equipping for the times I will meet eminent disaster face to face. My heart must be strong enough for boldness. I must be ready to do what needs to be done bravely.

This is true on many levels. It can mean showing up and grooming a horse before groundwork in the arena. It can mean slipping the sketching of the Dressage course under the sleeve of my riding shirt to remind myself of turns and gaits. It can mean wrapping the rope around the pommel of the saddle just right to grab at a full gallop. It can mean taking the time to visualize the right path forward.

Or, it can be placing the oil paints on the palette in just the right spot and just the right amount to do another painting session. This trial period of oil painting for me is out and out War, an impasse, a fall-off trail. I am learning new skills, new techniques, and using new mediums.

When I bravely show up into a defined space of air and temperature, oil paint and Galkyd, brush movement and colours all meeting on a canvas - I am a warrior! I must complete my day's mission before the elements interact and become too tacky to push and mix to create all the lovely shadows and highlights - a glorious mess of buttery paints.

Green to True Blue

The skills and proficiency will build in time with practice and dedication. It takes a bit and a bridle to go from green to True Blue.

Drop The Reins

The 4th Turning maximus (Latin)

When the wind arrives.

This past couple weeks has been a challenge to drop casually into a lifestyle I have dreamed about for over 50 years: becoming an equine oil painter.

I am humbled to say. I had to get on my knees and pray for courage and belief in myself. I am not a technical artist, nor a commercial artist. I feel the creation of my artwork deep in my soul and I die many deaths over when I think I have not done my best. An artist knows.

Over my lifetime, I have learned that my go-to is finding the right teacher when I, the student, am ready. There is no pride in being self-taught for me. To me, self-taught means I will not be vulnerable or I will not take instruction. Many times I sold myself short by not signing up with a master.

Last week, I could not face the canvas of my recent work-in-progress horse painting. So, I bought a beautiful gray cloth to drape over the standing easel. No longer would I would have to stare at the half-finished underpainting. I have always hated 'the underpainting' process - the in-between stage before the magic happens of creating an art piece.

It helped to not have to look at the painting for awhile. My bravery finally showed up in time to attend the next LIVE workshop. A mixture of prayer and naked determination activated my superpower - Showing Up.

I am so grateful to God for listening to me bemoan my cowardice about life, about art, about the future. I found great solace in the re-telling of The Turnaround. I cried as I typed the story of Mary and Dixie, the horse that earned the title of Pure Gold. I am pretty sure Mary said a prayer on that trail somewhere during that trail ride. When I first heard her tell the story in the film, I had tears rolling down my face sitting among the other riders in the meeting room above the stables at Kaizen Farm2 .

Going Pure Gold

The story of The Turnaround will continue to be re-told by those it touches. When I am struggling, facing a no-turnaround zone in my life, I do not have to rely upon my own strength to accomplish the hard things in life. I simply have to be present and ask for help, then wait till the wind arrives.

This is Drop The Reins.

Drop The Reins came from my experience of riding with eyes closed, arms straight out from my shoulders and allowing the horse to go at its pace from walk to trot to canter while I simply trusted the ride with eyes closed. I felt the float happen and then I was flying with the horse. We had become one.

Stories of Faith that need to be told.

Highlights

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A Classic of an Inn

It is a spectacular place called The Biltmore Inn - an estate hotel in Ashbury, North Carolina. The main residence is a Châteauesque-style mansion built for George Washington Vanderbilt II between 1889 and 1895 and is the largest privately owned house in the United States, at 178,926 square feet of floor space and 135,280 square feet of living area. It is grandeur itself.

Hollywood MGM filmed 'His Merry Wife' on location in 1947. And in 2023, Hallmark Movie Channel filmed 'A Biltmore Christmas' at the same location. The new adaptation is the story of a screenwriter who travels to Biltmore Estate to find the original ending of 'His Merry Wife', from the 1947 holiday classic.

As the hourglass is dropped, and the time traveler stands transfixed, shocked by the inevitable repercussions, she hopes for the best outcome despite her fumble.

Uncertain but undaunted, which way the [EXIT]?

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places we go when things are uncertain or too much #1

stress
overwhelm
anxiety
worry
avoidance
excitement
dread
fear
vulnerability

stress
overwhelm
anxiety
worry

[EXIT] Stage Left. These are words that conjure up immediate action and a call to escape. No one can analyze while in the experience of stress, overwhelm, anxiety, or worry without increasing that very state of feeling. Taking the action to do the opposite of works well: stress/delete expectations, overwhelm/open the mind, anxiety/practice acceptance, worry/faith and trust. Sometimes running is the best course. Sometimes simply stopping everything, because nothing else works.

It's hard to figure out [When you're IN IT].

Worry is my #1 kryptonite. My nickname as a child was 'Worry-wart' - for heaven's sakes. Apparently for my propensity to say my fears out loud and whatever could go wrong. It was a point of humor to my parents, who were not mean or insensitive just unaware. I think a discerning spirit was placed in me at a very young age.

'Do Not Fret.' - Psalm 37

I look at the neck of my mandolin and I see frets all the way down. Frets are raised bars that mark the beginning and end point of a space where the fingers are placed. Called the fretboard, this enables the player to play an exact note on a specific string. If I am fretting about something, I am in a space between two 'Do not pass' spaces.

avoidance
dread
fear

The End.
Nothing can terrify me more than being fired from a job, losing my purse, being told I don't measure up in a relationship, gaining 25 pounds, or wondering if I will stand up to tyranny at the end of all things.

I can't see right now because I am covering my eyes. G.S.

Passages.
It's no wonder that when I read Brené Brown I had to collect all her books. I have journaled through her books beginning with The Gifts of Imperfection, created my Courage Boards in Daring Greatly, entered My Arena in Rising Strong, and found out in my year of being homeless great clarity and truth of Braving the Wilderness.

excitement
vulnerability

I call this Sobriety Without Remorse.
I love the life of recovery that continues to become richer in meaning, pulling me forward to grow as a person, as a woman, as a mother and grandmother. Who would have guessed that all I would be leaving behind by choosing recovery was certain death, insanity, or incarceration. Who would have guessed that every new day that dawns, lived one day at a time, holds its own excitement and surprise. I have yet to discover a downside to sobriety. I also have a healthy respect for this disease that tells me that I don't have a disease. But for the Grace of God, there go I. I am not keeping me sober. I am just a willing participant.

As I am writing, all credit must go to Aºtlas of The Heart1 for being a terrific prompt, guide, learner, and personal map to understanding my feelings.

Brown's book is a necessary catharsis to a better understanding as a Writer, Author, and Creative. I found my connection with her when she shared about her pu-pu platter of addictive behaviors and her resulting recovery {from everything under the sun, like myself}.

Which way to the [EXIT]?

When comfort zones become pools of stagnation, it's time for a new zip code. G.S.

Where did my clothes go?
Enter vulnerability. 'Vulnerability is not weakness; it's the greatest measure of courage' - Brené Brown. It's being naked and real in front of the world. It's putting our best efforts out there and falling flat on our face, or in our finding success. It's risking uncertainty for something better. It's allowing emotional exposure on the chance of making a connection that spins us to the moon and back again. It's finding the works of Jane Austen for the first time.

The Gift of Writing

Never trust a person who does not read books,
for they only listen to their own thoughts.
~ G.S.

If you've never read the books of Jane Austen, I have a recommendation for you. Who knows, we might meet one day in a Jane Austen Book Club. Here's a movie to watch:

Love & Jane

Books are Adopted from Bookshops.
Our imagination is sparked by the words of books. Books come to life when they are read especially those without pictures. Colors and scenes and our senses come alive simply by reading. Books can be powerful motivators for change. They can chart a new land, start an adventure, restore our humanity, encourage us, befriend us, live within us, and by reading we can change the course of history.

Proper Suitors Own Bovines.
In the time of Jane Austen, a man of means was a man of property and cows. Seriously! Cows give milk which feed babies. It was a simpler time when x + x = the correct answer. The variables were decipherable and definable. Human nature of course has always been the same, but culture and respectability rose to an apex in Jane's time.

Hmm, Romance the Right Way.
Read a couple of Jane Austen quotes and see the transparency of thought and written word. Truth in small sentences speaks louder of true love and feelings over hyper emotional fluff, pomp, night clubs and gutter language.

Writing, a Gift
The ability to be a writer is a gift. To paint pictures with words like an artist uses a canvas and paintbrushes. The writer is an architect of ideas building a structure of action. To build kingdoms or destroy worlds. To motivate or discourage. The power of writing is unfathomable.

Finding [The Exit].

The Series of 4 / 4 Letters:

Love Locks

Love Traveler

Love Starlight

Love At Last

and, 5/4 Love & Jane

Epilogue

Several events over the past week strengthened my belief in serendipity. Although I have been under the weather and blasé about everything creative or over the edge with anxiety, I was reminded that everything works together for the good for those who Believe. My Alanon sponsor, Bonnie of Humboldt, constantly reminds me to always go back to the start with “Believe.”

Deep Journaling for 36 days has reached in and grabbed hold of my writer self to explore the darkness so I can see the Light inside and outside. Unbelievably, today was about Time: the voice that thunders and to write about my relationship with Time.

of Nikki Carr, UK Equine Master Artist
My equine painting has found itself facing the wall, too frightening and demanding to look at. Thankfully, the class has a two-week break and I can muster the courage to continue the underpainting soon. Oh, the hunt for the right filbert brush!

"Mom, are you afraid?"

I stood in the hallway following my mother into the home I had grown up. The family move brought us from Colorado to a house nestled in the Escondido valley. A place surrounded by orange groves, avocado groves, fields, and cow pastures. A herd still crossed the outer town roads when I had walked the 2.5 miles to high school for four years.

The memories flooded back of our nightly family band practice and the supportive neighborhood listening to our music. Of the times our family spent the early evenings out at The San Diego Wild Animal Park stretching through the San Pasqual Valley, wandering through the hiking trails and enjoying the freedom of the open African savannah-like setting with the herds of animals interacting behind the one safari fence enclosure. Then as night fell, watching the limbo dancers with flaming fire torches perform and listening to the the calypso steel drum band.

This was the second time I had come to visit this year. My mother had been given the prognosis of 6 months earlier in this year. Her five-year remission from cancer had changed. Now, it was about spending precious time together, her and I and my little daughter, her first grandchild - now just 2 years old.

“Mom, are you afraid?” I asked. My mother did not seem surprised at my question. She stopped walking, turned, and paused to consider my question for a couple seconds. The air became so still, as if time itself had stopped. I wished I could take my query back, feeling immediately sorry that I had spoken so rashly.

Which way [THROUGH] this?

Mom answered me in a serious but comforting voice,
"No, Ginger. I know who my Heavenly Father Is."

I shall be ever grateful for that Saturday in August of 1997. My mom and I spent the entire day talking of everything that mattered to us. Hours and hours and hours flew by.

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without words

The Last Performance my mom, my sister and I watched together ~
Yanni LIVE at The Acropolis, featuring Karen Butler - violinist

This performance still takes my breath away. No words necessary.

places we go when it's beyond us #4

awe
wonder
confusion
curiosity
interest
surprise

When we feel awe,
we tend to simply stand back and observe,
to provide a stage for the phenomenon to shine.

August 19, 1997
I stood before my kitchen window as the sunset began on the last day I shared earth's ground with my mother. She passed at 7:04 a.m. My father called at half past to let me know. Brokenness. The day was dull. I felt flat. The hiccup of space between the hope of a last minute miracle of healing and the final breath spent.

Which way [THROUGH] this?

My day's work finished. My daughter fast asleep in her bedroom. I finish my chores in the kitchen and as I look out the window I saw a spectacle forming in the sunset sky. I begin to cry. The tears falling softly, just rolling down my face. I instantly knew this sunset is meant just for my mom. The color the same red as her bass guitar and the ruby skies just kept getting more and more brilliant with every successive moment. A full sky painting of magnificence colours. The vividness of the ruby red, the deep peach fire, and the neon purple edging was extraordinary. The clouds were patterned in what we always called a mackerel sky extending from horizon line to the heavens.

"Dear Father in Heaven, I see it! This one's for Mom! You're making this just for Mom! It's beautiful! Just beautiful! This is ruby red skies. This is Irene's Sky! For her! This is in remembrance of Mom! "

The depth of understanding that the Almighty God knew my mother Irene had passed and my sorrow was astonishing. And my tears streamed. And fell. And I talked to God the entire time. Thanking Him, crying with Him, laughing with Him, being comforted by His Presence. A God of All Comfort. Until finally the deep plum night sky turned to complete blackness with only a faint glow of the ocean in the distance. It is finished. Irene's Sky Show.

awe
wonder
confusion

27 years ago on August 19, 1997

Irene's Sky happened.
Love At Last.
Signed,
Our Father In Heaven

This is the Way through.

I have never seen a sunset as Brilliant or as Beautiful since.

curiosity
interest
surprise

Call it recovery or learning to love carefully, or living by thoughtfulness, or being an artistic recluse, sometimes it is hard to join family functions. I no longer live in a deranged dysfunctional family atmosphere, but I still appreciate times of solitude. Space to think, to plan, to write, to create. I think it is strange that creatives have a deep desire for camaraderie and social interaction, but our skillset requires us to be alone (a lot). And, aloneness can become a habit.

Marble Creek & a Horse and Wagon Tunnel

The lower Salmon River is not as spectacular as the streams of the Colorado Rockies where I was born, but it is still the great outdoors. Exploring along the old highways, leading up to the high ground where the elk hunters frequent, is a good hike. Battling the bees and searching for dried up huckleberries is even fun with family.

The best part is seeking a tunnel cave that can only be spied from one direction along the roadway. Missing the cave on the way up to Marble Creek had us particularly paying attention on the way back, every corner and switchback, full eyes on.

Finally, there it was! A deep black hole right off the roadway surrounded by overgrowth and trees, but with a rocky path leading to the opening. The shoulder of the highway formed just enough of a pull-off parking area. No sign, no mile marker. Just a beckoning opening.

Armed with flashlights, pencil lights, and two headlamps, our family of 11 disembarked from our vehicle and stopped in front of the entrance to the cave. The tunnel slightly curved midway, so the other end was not visible. The overhead rock ceiling was about 50 feet high with reinforcements of timbers and boulders. I have been in cavern systems before in Colorado and New Mexico, so I knew I would not be seeing stalactites. Yet, darkness is not very inviting.

Whoops and hollers and lots of giggles and a panicked, 'It's too dark!" from the 4 year-old. We entered in single file, adults at lead and rear guard with all the shorter ones between. It was dry and cool, a nice reprieve from the outside 90° temperature. No trash, no graffiti. Delightful! Without flashlights it would be totally black and one would be unable to maneuver without being on hands and knees on the jagged rock floor.

The tunnel was created n the early 1900's specifically for horse and wagon deliveries of supplies to the loggers and railroad workers working on the upper mountain areas. The tunnel cave is only about 150 feet in length, but it has a massive height and berth. Reaching the far end: victory. Then, time to turn around and go back to the entrance. The tunnel/cave challenge: mastered!

“You cannot stay on the summit forever; you have to come down again. So why bother in the first place? Just this: What is above knows what is below, but what is below does not know what is above. One climbs, one sees. One descends, one sees no longer, but one has seen.” – Rene Daumal

This Way Through.

SKOOKUMCHUCK

Our stop at a river side beach with sand was a day's end reward. Sandy feet, my favorite way of life {born in Colorado, but the southern California beach girl lasts a lifetime}.

The Gift of Family

I could have stayed home and prepped a canvas for a new painting, but I experienced something far better and rewarding: leaving aloneness and creating family memories of being together. This is what matters. This is the way through.

And, this is what long term recovery looks like for me.

The 4 / 4 Letters: Love Locks, Love Traveler, Love Starlight, Love At Last

I didn't know it wasn't even about me. The dream and the decision were his.

THE STOCKWELLS FOUR

'Presenting The Bright and Happy Music of The Stockwells Four' read our first music billboard. I designed our first billboard, black bold letters embellished with gold and red sparkle script lettering.

Mine was a performance childhood. Other kids played sports and I protected my fingers and hands because I am an instrumentalist. The photo above brings me joy with memories filled of practice sessions, unquestionable family security, trust and loyalty.

But when home is the music and the music ends, which way leads [HOME]?

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places we go when we compare #2

comparison
admiration
reverence
envy
jealousy
resentment
schadenfreude
freudenfreude

comparison
admiration
reverence

COUNTRY MUSIC STARS

The Grand Ole Opry was the destination my father set for our family band. Our repertoire of songs were Western ballads, soft Country Rock, Country Western, and Bluegrass besides the regular 1940's Big Band dance numbers and the wedding favorites.

I admired the Country Western stars and chose the songs of Anne Murray, while my sister chose the songs of Linda Ronstadt and Crystal Gail.

The only person I revered was quite possibly John Moore, the finest mandolinist I ever met. John and his sister Julie on standup bass plus Dennis Caperling on banjo were Bluegrass Etc. of Southern California and we jammed At The Pizza Place in Carlsbad, California. Bluegrass Etc. was the opening group for The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band Tour in Japan. John taught mandolinist Chris Thile of Nickel Creek. John Moore is an exceptionally gifted musician, singer and horseman. And, understandably, my first stage crush. You just had to listen to this young baritone sing, 'It's Hard to be Humble' (when you're perfect in every way). But, we were definitely on two different plains of existence.

CHRIS THILE / NICKEL CREEK1:
What did you experience, along with the pizza? For me, I think it was as much the person playing the mandolin as it was the instrument itself. That was John Moore, who would eventually become my teacher, a very good player, also a very charismatic fellow. And I think, for a little kid, you’re just drawn to people like that, the leaders and people who shine brightly. I wanted to play the mandolin because he played it.
Chris Thile

I compared myself to no one. In my mind, I hadn't even reached the playing field yet. Sadly.

Which way leads [HOME]?

envy
jealousy
resentment

The spotlight can be a hotbed for envy, jealousy, and resentment for entertainers because of the fire that burns in the heart of a great performer. Their inner fire is the ignition that inspires them and electrifies their audience. I call it PIEZO!

Music life is an emotional never-ending performance. It's full of sounding the best and looking the best and being [ON] for that moment of recognition, that surprise opportunity appearing out of nowhere, being at the right place at the right time, it's who you know after all, and winning the next gig. The between show times are all about practicing for the next performance, group progression, and personal proficiency.

I believe I was one of the lucky ones who never really considered whether it was about me or the music. For me, it was always about the music.

Love (of the) Starlight. It's showing up in order to show off. It's humorously termed Clap-Addict, Applause Junkie, Center Stager, Spotlight Hog, Lone Star, etc. Some performers move the focus from the music/performance to themselves. They crave the adrenaline rush of performing. Each performance must exceed the performance before as they strive for a higher adrenaline rush.

I once watched a live performance of a internationally famous singer skydive onto the stage to begin his show. Just walking out to the roaring fans was not enough anymore. He needed an adrenaline jump to get into the zone of 'performance Piezo!'

I think I am a natural performer who was born loving the performing. Center stage is where I am most at home, whether for music or art. But it comes with a trigger: it's easy to fall in love with the applause and acclaim.

Juried Art Shows. My nemesis. Judging. This venue is incredibly hard for me to enter. It is unfair to judge one artist over another simply by one's personal taste in art or music. Proficiency, talent, ability, skill, and delivery should all be deciding factors. I am not an art snob, but I can walk through a juried gallery show and immediately pick out the works that should not be there. I can do the same with music. True talent and ability cannot be faked.

It isn't that I am dissuading new artists and musicians, I'm just pointing out levels of expertise and the demands that increase with skill and ability. A new painter cannot be compared to a Master Painter. It's the 10,000 hours thing.

schadenfreude
freudenfreude

Three weeks after the trip the conversation with my dad was enlightening and beautiful. I dealt with my disappointment and did not burden our ensuing conversation with it because it was unimportant. And so we talked and shared and talked of music. Without expectations and without judgment, the truth about our music life and its ending was put into perspective and I understood. He told his side with great transparency. We laughed and shared thoughts and memories and our sadness of life without Mom. But mostly, it was the last words of closure to a time of magical music playing of a family that dared greatly for a short time, The Stockwells Four.

And, had I carried my disappointment like a cloak wrapped tightly about me, the miracle of connection would have never happened.

PLEASURE DERIVED FROM ANOTHER'S MISFORTUNE

Maybe this is relevant and maybe not. Following this rabbit trail could lead to no good place. Run!

FINDING PLEASURE IN ANOTHER'S GOOD FORTUNE

Maybe this is relevant, but more likely it's displeasure of mine in another's good fortune. My hairdresser's sister from Arcata, California, a college student at Humboldt State University, was contracted to play as a violinist in Yanni's Northern California Redwoods Concert. Really? Really?

A dream of mine for a very long time. I just forgot to keep practicing.

The gift of being set free

The gift of setting others free from my Disappointment Fallout put me in a place to receive the gift of being set free from a sorrow that has lasted 40 years: The sorrow of the loss of the family music.

With a new perspective and new understanding of what actually happened to the person who had the dream and who ended the dream, I smile, chuckle, and my heart is fully at peace. I had no idea.

I cannot explain it other than THE TRUTH SHALL SET YOU FREE.

Thank God for my Dad and for his setting the story straight. I found my way [HOME].

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Paris, France

I have wandered along the Seine and Les Champs-Elysees for hours. Artists line the boardwalk with easels and paint brushes, clad in caps and trousers and cotton canvas vans. To be French is to be an artist. To be in love, is to be in Paris.

Bonjour Richard,

You know that pact we made in High School? The one where we meet at the Eiffel Tower when we reach mid-life and (perhaps) single? I have thought of us lately. You were my best dancing partner and date-friend. I wonder what has happened to you. Disappointed that I am not in Paris this year.

Meilleurs vœux,
G.

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places we go when things don't go as planned #3

boredom
disappointment
expectations
regret
discouragement
resignation
frustration

disappointment

WHICH WAY IS [UP]?
Life still happens even after we have given it our all and it didn't work out the way we planned. Call it unfair, call it just, or just call it.

Disappointment is unmet expectations. The more significant the expectations, the more significant the disappointment - Brené Brown

Let me speak on disappointment. When I experience disappointment, it is like getting bit by the root of bitterness. Think of shark's teeth. I harbor hostility. I plan people's demise. It is not good.

Dealing with disappointment is putting to death what I wish to have.

expectations

The question becomes if it is fair to expect at all. Plans are made, agreements are made, schedules are set. And still after travelling 800 miles to see my dad, I was left with 'Absent due to recovering from illness.'

When we develop expectations, we paint a picture in our head of how things are going to be and how they're going to look - Brené Brown

I wish to put no bad reflection on my dad. I want to reflect all the light on my expectations and shine the light on my disappointment. I am glad I took the time to inventory my motives {no, not sharing my private findings} but, because I did the inner work - I believe it formed the outcome that happened three weeks following my trip.

I must look at my childish expectations and set people free from my bindings.
G.S.

Painting done. Stand back. Put the brushes down. Reality check necessary. I need to walk through my expectations fully, so that the outcome- whatever it might look like - will remain in God's loving hands. I learned early in sobriety a Truth that stands time: God's will is the best for all involved.

My need to have a dad, to be validated, and to be loved is not wrong. Whether I receive it is a gift.

regret
discouragement
resignation
frustration

The gift of Setting Others Free

Look at the list of emotions above. Each is an emotional pitfall that traps, takes hostage, and requires much time and effort to extricate oneself from it. Some never find their escape. I found a way to stop the insanity: deal immediately with my expectation and disappointment.

Which way is [UP]? Let me paint a picture for you of what happened:

THE CANVAS
There are many more things I could have done different leading up to the trip. The conversation with my sister was more of my notice of appearance than a humble request to visit. The conversation with my dad followed the same conversation lines.

THE UNDERPAINTING
I was insensitive to what his specific needs might be, because I was more interested in my own being met. I have learned from this disappointment to take the time and expend the effort to be more transparent and less presumptuous.

THE BRUSH STROKES
When I make sure I am standing on my side of the street without false/hidden expectations, then I give the gift of setting others free to make their choices - whatever that might look like. I withhold judgment. I withhold condemnation. This is the erasure of regret, discouragement, resignation, and frustration. These negative emotions have no place to adhere themselves in my heart.

THE PAINTING
Exciting! Brush down. Painting Done. When I drop my expectations of others and circumstances, I discover I am free as well. The result: a flooding of joy and gratitude and peace. My world has suddenly become brighter and more colorful. The life painting turns vivid with great clarity and perspective. It is as if I am walking hand-in-hand with my Creator. What could be as marvelous as this!

The gifts of disappointment. Who would've thought?

Bits

The 4th Turning continues.

The weather outside is bleak, the hotness left along with the cheer of summer. This is the time of clouds and cold wind then surprise! A day of summertime again. The weather is as bouncy as my momentum. Leaping fences and scoring runs seemed the usual fare of the day. Then, what is this that has descended upon me?

Over booked, over zealous, over imaginative, over the edge I have gone. Life is not a formula because there are so many variables. Variables like people, places, and things. All of which are definitely out of my control.

So, because I am brilliant I decided I will just whip myself into shape and ignore everything and everyone around me that can deter, detour, and derail me from my path. This should've worked except I cannot even control myself. I am not the master of me or of my life.

It shouldn't be this hard.

Bridles

The thought struck me that when Jonah finally decided to obey God and go to Nineveh, he did not run to make up for lost time. He simply started off in the right direction leading to the right destination.

Direction. Vienna to me is a destination that signifies visiting The Lipizzaners in person, entering the halls of The Spanish Riding School and attending a performance, meeting Hannah the first woman rider whose video "My Perfect Day' is below, and greeting the majestic white stallions stall by stall on a walking tour.

My WHY NOT VIENNA signifies my turn-around point, a direction reset, where I started to believe anything is possible with God. Although the world shut down just as I had reserved my apartment 500 feet from the entrance to the Lipizzaner Stallions and The Spanish Riding School, the airfare booked, tour guide in check, and the best performances circled, I still carry hope of taking that trip.

Speed. I did my turn around this morning. I’m a No-Show to a live art workshop from the UK, but scheduled my violin practice for today, now writing my heart to free myself, and smiling because I am doing all this in the presence of God. With God. My timing is not God's timing. Wow, each surrender seems so much harder than at the start of my spiritual journey.

The rate at which I learn and understand is a lot slower and a lot faster at the same time. With God it’s just right. No hurry to catch up or make up for lost time. It is in this moment. It is this decision. It's doing all [fully focused] with God.

Rhythm. I illustrate rhythm as a cadence rather than a formula. A cadence is a rhythm, or a flow of words or music, in a sequence that is steady. In the dressage arena there are an exact amount of steps to complete an action. In learning dressage floorplans for performance and correlate music compositions, every step is within a cadence, within the program.

Groundwork of learning the half-pass in mirroring the horses steps was one of my lifetime highs. Half-pass is an advanced form of lateral work for horses. In the half pass the horse moves sideways along the diagonal line, while looking in the direction of movement. It is a beautiful floating of horse and rider. The half pass involves rhythm, relaxation, contact, straightness, and throughness, development of thrust, carrying power, collection, and elevation.

Balance. Applying the half-pass to my daily life, I ask: where am I out of step, out of cadence, out of contact, out of straightness? The facedown I have experienced this past week is a tell-all. No wonder I found myself saying: It shouldn't be this hard!

Learn how to improve your balance for dressage and why it is important as a rider to train this in ourselves as much as we do our horses1. I say, as artist, creative, and human being this balance is needed in all that I do - and it takes effort, it just doesn’t happen. Understanding what all is beneath to support and maintain balance is very important.

Since I do not have a horse to work with at this time, kettlebells and kickboxing are my new go-to. There is an absolute connection between movement and connection to inspiration. A former advocate of all things workout, I have become quite the chair spud this past year trying to catch my breath and enjoy not being homeless, living at a roadside inn, sitting.

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Drop The Reins

It's training day. With God.

The least amount of effort and the greatest amount of accomplishment always signifies with God for me. It is this that I experienced early in sobriety and described as Praying For God's Will: It Just Works by my sponsor.

During the times of my life, the special moments as the ones creating with God whether in studio art works or groundwork with Audacity in the arena. When life seems not so full, it is time for the remembrance of all the times of filling.

God's will for me is to follow Him on the greatest life adventure that He has created for me. If I am not in that attitude of mind, I am off way track.

Note to Self: Drop the Reins

What does it mean to Drop the Reins {of one's entire life}? This came from my experience of riding with closing my eyes and lifting both hands {reins-free} straight out from my shoulders and allowing the horse to go at its pace walk-trot-canter. As I trusted {eyes closed}, I felt the float happen and then I was flying with the horse and we were as one. {Now imagine placing yourself in God the Creator's loving hands and let Him have the reins of your life day by day}

This is 'Drop the Reins' Just try it and see.

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