Perfection

I was reading through my old journal from last year recently, and here is what I wrote on January 6, 2016, the day I started working at the pharmacy.

“Tonight, I was out feeding the horses at 8:30 pm, and I looked up at the sky and saw all the stars, and I realized how lucky I am to have this. Everyone should have this. Everyone should feel this way–this calm, this serenity. It really is beautiful. I am so thankful for my comfortable yet luxurious (and irresistibly cool) home in the country. For the trees and the trails and the nature. For the snow and the gentle breeze. For the darkness lit only by a thousand stars. For my incredible friends–human, equine, feline, and canine. For my loving family and our crazy adventures. For all that’s been given to me and for all I can and have given. Things will change, but never so much that we can’t go back. To this. To freedom and empowering love.

How easily I can breathe when I stand out there, silent and still, feeling only a gentle breeze touching my hair (and not enough to chill) as I gaze at all the stars. And when I looked back and saw, in the gleam of the barn light showing me my way to the house, the horses grazing on their hay peacefully, I know I don’t need anything more. This is the kind of perfection that actually exists. And I could see my dream–this. Me. Having the ability to run to the barn–and truly run–whenever I want. Just chilling out there. In the summer I can take my guitar out there and just play. Now, the barn is my safe place. I am not afraid out there anymore when it’s dark. It’s the place I can go to escape, to chill, to just be alone. Like a secret hideout, just not so secret. I felt that tonight. I actually could believe it. When I looked back, all I could see was the day I ran out in the cold, wearing no jacket or anything warm, to grab the bottle of pepsi in the tack room fridge for Mom, and stopping at the fence despite the cold to reach through to a nickering Destiny who nibbled gently at my fingers. These memories are pure love. They are my perfection.”

I thought it would be a good thing to post, because I still feel this way. The barn is my escape. It’s my isolation from the outside world. Everything else changes, but that won’t. It never has and it never will.

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