"Take away 18, go up a floor,
five from the left, same as before."

I was going to write a long note detailing my epiphany this afternoon. Instead, I will give you two tidbits until I have the time to write a proper note.

Firstly, I have come to the conclusion that writing poetry is addictive. I can't seem to stop. 'Course, I'm not complaining. I like poetry. :)

I'm finding that the poetry I write has deep connection to my life, what I'm feeling/thinking at the time. I sort of feel like I'm leaving clues to what's going on in my mind. At times, they are blatantly obvious. At others...you'd have to know me ridiculously well to know what I'm saying about myself. For instance, that verse up top? Seems rather insignificant, doesn't it? Think again. That little statement carries at least two other profound statements within it.

It is for that reason that I'm beginning to grow very fond of poetry. It's like a riddle, a way to try to really understand a person by finding what's written between the lines.

The other tidbit is a summary of my epiphany moment. Basically, I was brushing a new mare (she's in for training) when I suddenly realized the simplicity of moving the brush over her fur, over and over and over until most of her winter coat had fallen off. It wasn't a hard motion, nor was it complicated. It was routine and pleasurable for both her and I. (I like brushing horses.) I then thought about my life, and how complicated it seemed. I realized that my life really only needs to be a single brush stroke at a time...I can't groom a whole horse with a single stroke, that would be way too complicated. In the same way, I can't do everything in life that I need to do all at once. It's way too complicated.

Sound familiar?

It should. I've been saying that my life is too much for me to handle, and that I feel like I'm drowning in both the "what ifs" of life and my own responsibilities.

I realized in that moment in the barn, that I can't do everything at once. I'm firmly convinced that this revelation came from God. It was almost as if He was guiding my hand on the brush, saying "this is how you can do the rest of the semester." One stroke at a time.

Okay, so I wound up writing everything out anyway. I guess I got carried away, but I'm okay with that.

Til next time...