Ask Quietly ... Then Wait

Me and Mr. Bud

Early on Wednesday morning I awake to a swell of anxiety, still haunted by my fall off a horse some years ago. I must be crazy to get back on a horse. Then I open the box of black Massimo Dutti riding boots and am reminded of the day, the place, and what was in my mind when I bought all the riding equipment I needed to get back to dressage. I can vividly recall coaching myself aloud to dive into what I feared, in order to create my own happiness.

I load my little white convertible with riding gear and head up country. Minutes later, as I zigzag up the mountain highway, I am awestruck by the beauty unfolding before me —cane stalks as high as my shoulders, pineapple fields wafting a sweet, almost acrid scent, and the green, green mountains straight ahead. I catch site of a double rainbow stretching across the horizon like a multi-colored canopy. This is my Wednesday morning, my life now.