Take a Mucking Break

Friends,

I remember hearing this quote from my friend, Colleen so many times over the years,

"We teach best, what we most need to learn." -Richard Bach.

Last week, I lived this.

In January, we expanded our herd with the adoption of AJ, a 25-year-old quarter horse in need of a home. In addition, we finally moved my first horse, Griffin, from a boarding stable to our home.

Before their arrival, we only had the minis living here. So you can imagine that not only did we double our number of equines, but in terms of size and volume, we more than doubled our poop. :)

For those of you unfamiliar with the term, "muck out" describes when you scoop up all the poop and soiled shavings from the horse's stall. Mucking the paddock is just scooping up poop where the horses graze.

In winter, mucking is challenging to say the least. With freezing temperatures earlier in the month, then cycles of "melt, poop, freeze repeat," it was impossible to do any mucking at all. Yet, the poop keeps coming! By the time we had a couple of 50 degree days last, the task seemed daunting before me.

Section by section, whenever I had a free half-hour, or so, I would be out there, head down, focused on my task. However, one day I lost track of time. You could say that I was in a state of poop flow and didn't realize how long I had been out there until I looked up and noticed this incredible sunset happening all around me. In all her glory, Nature was painting the sky in magnificent colors. Even my horses noticed the horizon. They were both looking out to the horizon. I stopped, awe-struck. Breathing mindfully and slowly, I took in the beauty that was all around me. I felt like we, the horses and I, appreciated the moment together.

As Oprah says, "The most valuable gift we can give ourselves is time. Time to be more fully present."

In the pasture, with the horses beside me, the sky above me, the mountains in the distance, at that moment, I was fully present. I could feel every cell in my body. I was vibrating with gratitude and appreciation. I almost started to cry from the beauty.

I teach mindfulness, meditation, and "living your yoga." But, sometimes, I can get bogged down in schedules and to-do lists with all the beings in my charge.
At that moment, everything else fell away.
It was spectacular.

I wish that for each and every one of you this week.
Just take a mucking break.

With so much love,
Kari