I have been spreading myself out, finding myself in the same situation as I usually do: with the more I learn, the more it seems I don’t know.
The more I learn, from the innumerable webinars and classes with the experts and professionals I have found online to the white-papers that the folks that already know produce at an alarming rate.
With every lesson I take notes on, I find more I need to do.
With every contact I make, there are more incredibly gifted and insightful people I find that I just have to know more about. To sit at their cyber-knee and learn the lessons they, also, teach.
At 5:30 this morning, as Bella once again woke me (we really HAVE to finish the new house!) from not enough sleep, I decided I wasn’t going to be sucked into the same black hole of new blogs and archived webinars.
No siree, I was going to sit down and write some blog interesting and helpful articles to share with you.
So, here I sit.
If now was say, an hour ago, I’d say “completely uninspired.”
Now, after re-reading a post I kept, written by a friend I met online, I am not only inspired, but just am.
So, are you wondering how or what this has to do with Pioneer Outfitters?
(I’ll tell you!)
My friend is running through the thoughts and ideas in this post, that she will undoubtedly share (except for that which she has put behind her!) with us when the time is right, her voice and emotion comes through her written words very clearly.
Bla! Frustrated. Too much information. So, what did she do? She closed her ramble with letting us know she was going for a ride. (Yep.)
“I guess I’ll write about nothing. Because inspiration still hasn’t hit. I think I’ll go ride my bike.”
As I have shared with you all, since this incredible (and exhausting) journey into a bigger world via the internet started, my absolute-number-one passion (other than my children) is horseback riding.
That is what we do. So, today I will share with you the gifts received, horseback riding in Alaska.
Whether we are escorting and guiding guests through the vast wilderness that we make our home in or hunting big game in the Wrangell St. Elias National Park of Alaska or just “out for a ride in the Park,” this is what we do.
My horse is saddled and pawing a hole into the ground in front of the hitching rail, waiting for me to mount up.
(He doesn’t DO THAT until he sees me put my chaps on!)
As soon as I put my foot in the stirrup and swing up (and up!) I feel stronger.
There is nothing I cannot do.
I find my seat, swing away from the rail and life became beautiful again in it’s simplicity.
The kiddos, school (theirs and mine!), the business, the summer work to be finished so that all that our guests will see the beauty (not the pine needles, leaves, wind-broke tree limbs and all the critter-doo-scat) as they arrive and walk the grounds, the new obligations of running the website as I envision it, writing informative, helpful, insightful, humorous blog articles (oh geeze) and dealing with the training and matching the Trainees to Trainers: None of it matters while I’m in the saddle.
I wonder if that is how my friend feels, hoping on her bike and riding through her town or countryside.
If the breeze, even if it is only the breeze she makes for herself, is the only urge she needs to breathe deeper, filling her lungs with as much air as they can hold, to release it and actually feel the pressures, frustrations, worries and plans flow out to be looked at later. Later.
The green is spreading here in the North, finally and tiny flowers have come out of hiding. Alaska-Yukon Moose walk along with itty-bitty-gangly miniatures following close behind.
The sky is so blue it hurts your eyes.
The wind blowing off the glacier 4 miles away is a thrill against the sun-scorched skin on my arms. (Time to give in and get a hat that isn’t black for the summers!)
A Grizzly Bear stands up a few yards ahead and stands there, just checking us out….funny looking critters, he must think, with four legs and two heads.
Silly, scatter-brained Mountain Caribou ranging around, letting you get so close before running off a ways to stop and let you ride up to them again.
What a beautiful world.
The green is coming up the Valley at a phenomenal pace, now that it has finally begun and only rotten ice keeps us from going to the place I can almost hear calling me.
Does it open my friend’s eyes? Does it clear her soul to just go breathe? Does she feel full again when she returns home, remembering what and why she needs to share it?
This is what “going for a ride” does for me.
What it gives to me every time.
The gifts received, horseback riding in Alaska.