I’ve been doing something for a few days now that I have longed to do for ages.  Something my heart has longed for, no matter how simple it seems.  I have been waking up with the sun, no alarm needed, in my cozy country home.  I walk into my warm, clean kitchen with the big windows and sliding glass door onto the porch and make coffee.  As the coffee is readying I look out onto endless acres of land and check the local weather.  After the first few hot sips are acquired I slip on old heavy muck boots, my old carhart coat and while still in pj’s, my dogs and I head out.   

            I open the gate and the dogs bound outside the small fenced perimeter.  They run and I mosey out onto the property.  As I round the corner I hear the sound that makes an equestrian feel at home.  My horse nickers to me as I approach the barn.  Of the three stalls only one is full of hay, shavings, buckets and the warm body of an equine friend.  “Give it time”, I tell myself as I look forward to the day all three stalls are nickering at my approach.  I step onto the concrete floor of the barn, taking in the horse smell, the sight of a barn in perfect working order.  Blankets hung there, brooms and rakes over there, halters placed just so, tack room organized and still locked up from the night before, and the ally swept and ready for morning.  This simple, simple place is paradise. 

            I slide open the stall door and step inside.  Arwen is quiet but ready to go back outside.  I peel off her cotton rug and swing a rain sheet over her back.  There is a 60% chance of scattered showers today.  She stands quiet, staring out onto the same acres and acres of land that I did as my coffee brewed.  I always wonder what she sees.  She sees things that I don’t.  She sees things many other horses don’t.  She drops her head so I can slide a halter over her nose and I walk her out of her stall.  The distinct sound of hooves on concrete is a symphony.  I walk her to her small outside turn out.  “It’ll be bigger soon”, I say to her.  She pays no attention as her freshness from the night takes her over.  She snorts and surveys the land looking for something.  I turn her out into the 30×30 corral with the big water trough.  “I’ve got to get goldfish to keep the tank clean this weekend” I remind myself. 

            The dogs are still bounding around as I make my way back to the barn.  I pick up the manure fork and pull the bucket to the stall door.  I check her water buckets and smile because for the first time she drank water in her stall last night.  I’ll refill them with fresh water when I come to do evening chores.  I put the grain bucket back in the tack room, put the left over hay in the corner of her stall.  She ate quiet a bit last night too, such a relief.  The expensive salt rock still hangs in the corner.  I start to clean the stall shifting out shavings from poop.  Turning over and spreading wet shavings to dry.  This is my Buddhist sand raking.  This is how I make the world right.  This is my meditation.  This is where I talk to God the most.  I talk to God while sifting poop.  I leave only a small light layer of shavings in the corner Arwen has deemed her poop spot, the opposite corner of her feed.  She’s such a clean mare.  The rest I fluff with a thick layer of bedding.  I push back the shavings with a broom from the door of the stall in an effort to keep the shavings from being pushed out and wasted.  It seems to work, I really haven’t lost much out the door. 

            When the stall is clean I sweep up the mess out in the ally and take the bucket out to the tree rows to spread.  The dogs are still doing dog stuff.  On my way back I check Arwen one more time and throw her some hay outside.  She ignores me and I smile.  Such a cranky old thing.  I step back to the barn to put my bucket away and take one more look around.  This is it.  This is what my heart was missing.  I still can’t believe it’s real as I look around my personal heaven.  It’s all so familiar, my inner child is back at home.  That little girl madly in love with horses, is giddy.  I don’t want to leave.  My heart wishes there were 20 more stalls, and grain to mix, and more horses to turn out, a round pen and an arena to start working horses, a wash rack to bathe them so I could stay in the barn all day…  But this, this three stall barn is more than enough.  It is home.  After one more deep breath of aroma therapy, I amble back to the house for another cup of coffee, already planning the day ahead.  It’s been about a half hour since I got up and it’s been perfect.  My days are now book ended with a start and finish in the barn.  No matter where I am, what I’m doing, the weather, Nebraska or Arizona, it cannot get better than that.  It just cant.