We all have fantasies…come on, admit it!
Most people see me as a realistic, pragmatic, even-tempered, patient person who presents a face of contentment with my life and an abundance of compassion for others. A few close friends and colleagues, however, know the real, volatile, driven passionate person who dwells beneath by mundane exterior. The real “Me” is a dreamer, a romantic, a passionate lover who jumps in with both feet; I still live a somewhat enchanted life, filled with bubbling fantasies and whimsical notions that carry me through the quotidian existence-and have been my salvation throughout my life.
The same vibrant fantasy has filled my sleeping and waking dreams for almost fifty years. With Aaron Copland’s Hoedown ringing out like the music of the spheres, I vault effortlessly onto the back of my fearless Arabian mare, bareback and bridleless, and gallop off gracefully, like Alec Ramsay atop his legendary Black Stallion. My hair is still long and blond, trailing behind me like my horse’s whipping mane and flagging, crimson tail. Usually the horse is my little Raindrop, my first horse, gone too soon due to a tragic accident. We are soulmates, sisters under the skin, slaves to one another, yet equals, driving in that passionate embrace of horse and rider who become one.
When I look out into my yard and see the horses who share my life today, I sigh a bit. I still love them with a fiery passion, but our relationships are more gentle now. with Key and Cami, I have two older girlfriends who accompany me into seniorhood, gently, without a lot of fuss and bother; they’ve been there and done that and we’ve done a lot of it together. Their children, Juby and Shallah, “the kids”, still wonder at everything and seek human companionship with the exuberance that the older girls have left behind; they bump, nuzzle, follow and insist on attention. They are young and the world is theirs. My other gelding, Busted Halo, has been bounced around with other owners, but has come home; he is aloof, tentative, unwilling to give his heart…he does not trust as the others do. He will take time, I will have to make time, he deserves time…and love and affection. unlike the other younglings who have never left home, he’s been around and it may not have been so pleasant, but he will come around and be a leading player in a new fantasy…my steady, laid-back trail horse, my steady boy who draws oohs and aahs for his gleaming dappled grey coat and silver plume of a tail. He’s the looker…he just doesn’t know it yet.
These real creatures are my living fantasy; they spark my dreams and warm my heart…they are where my passions streak unbridled and sing a song of freedom.