Wrangler Dani

I’ve been thinking about life lately, about the relative smallness or largeness of it, and the things that make me frustrated or hold me back or keep me flirting with the verge of a breakdown. I’ve got a lot on my plate right now, too much going on, really, to allow ridiculous Space Camp-ish aspirations.  Which is probably why I’m thinking about it.

Because I’m the kind of person who gets emotional and restless, I’m also the type to put a lot of pressure on myself to be good at the things I love.  Because that makes sense. I’m reading books like Into the Wild, and thinking about what it means to completely embrace something. I’m reading Going Rogue and Committed, and wondering how to be gracious, compassionate and flexible while staying true to who I am.

A couple of my instructor buddies at the ranch invited me to join them for riding and horsey-fun every Friday. One of the bummers of working so much is that I haven’t been able to go yet, but last week I did show up a little early, just to chat before lessons began and time ran away again.  I know, for sure, for positive, for real – that they are both better riders than I. Which is OK. Really. Most of my life, with horses or elsewhere, has been spent with people who knew more and were better than I, but I loved it enough to make up the difference with sheer grit. However, gritty or not, it sounds much easier to just work it out on my own, where falling down can go unnoticed and I can dust myself off without an audience.

But I’m reminding myself in the immortal words of Dave – that I’m never too old to go to Space Camp. For me, Space Camp is writing and riding, being a more loving, patient and understanding friend, the kind who listens more than she talks and feels for others. Space Camp is embracing my failures, living within an imperfect world, diving in and trying it, whether I fall on my face or not.  It’s hard for me to admit that Space Camp is scary, that I’m afraid the other kids won’t like me or that I’ll forget that little ol’ Pluto is no longer a planet.  But I’ve got to try. This restless heart is more painful than a hundred Space-related rejections, and it’s time to blast off.