I love the movie Field of Dreams. At first he has to master the Believing. Then he conquers the Knowing. First he has to believe in what he saw that went against tradition and the norm. Once he believed he really heard the voice, then he followed his gut. The knowing. He knew he had to build that field and he knew he had to help the writer. He Knew something would happen at Fenway Park. He trusted himself. He trusted that teeny tiny voice inside. And even though I know all this, mine is still a tiny voice, just not a teeny tiny one.
I follow this voice regardless. I’ve had some interesting adventures in doing so. It is this tiny voice that tells me when to write, when my thinking is onto something. I made light of it in another post, but getting up and grabbing my camera to take a picture of a rainbow when it isn’t even raining? Isn’t that quite a demonstration of faith? And sometimes the voice is silent and it speaks to you through your body without words. You feel the hairs go up on your neck, you get goosebumps, or you feel a bad vibe when you walk in a room or put on a piece of clothing. I once got very sick after trying on a coat at a Trading Post. I bought it, took it outside, sage’d it and it was fine. I used a bundle of sage, lit it on fire and cleared the coat with the smoke.
My own personal one is, well, as usual, I have more than one name for it. It’s rock gut. Or, the jagged little pill. The jagged little pill is when you feel rock gut due to dishonesty, betrayal or danger. Rockgut. A sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach that lingers until you discover the tragedy that has occurred. It may not be a large tragedy, it can be as simple as your man coming home drunk and mean, but it’s in the knowing, the knowing that it’s happening this day instead of any other day, knowing makes you sick. Some people probably get woke up with nightmares but my dream level is low, as is my sleep. They told me at the sleep hospital when I was a child, that I didn’t go into 4th stage, deep sleep.
So, trusting yourself, your body, your whispers, your mind farts, your urges, pulls, needs….sometimes you don’t know why you need to do something, you just know you need to do it. Just like in the movie. These things are all crucial to survival of the fittest in the coming age. I feel this. I know this. Please, pay more attention when you are about to turn left and you feel you need to turn right, or when you go to open a door and it doesn’t feel right, leave. If you have a funny feeling, don’t get on that plane, bus, whatever. Flip it, and go in the door when urged, make that call you’re inspired to make, stop at that store you’ve never stopped at before. Follow YOU. Your intuition, your own inward knowing, your own whispers. Who knows what life is awaiting you, if you will but just………Follow You.
Ok, two days of noticing yellow flowers. How’d ya make out? See any? If not, I noticed a few here in my yard for you. And on we go to Step #2. Another tough one. Notice all the WHITE flowers. And no, we are not going to go through the rainbow. 🙂
Oh wow, what a day. Yesterday while I was shearing, my Blue dog got into the trash and ate the pork roast bone. Pork doesn’t agree with him. I woke up at 7:30 am, way too early for me, to a bedroom full of diarrhea. I put the dog out, clean it up and try to go back to sleep. Took an earplug out in case the diarrhea was just to wake me to alert me. Yup, I hear a goat crying. I fly out of bed, grab a swig of juice and a cigarette and head on back to the old Girls pen. Nothing. Just crying cuz they miss their moms. (a pup woke me once to alert me) By then my room stunk so bad I knew I was done sleeping.
Cathy wasn’t thrilled when I told her we needed to do Marshall today. Some of these boys are really big. He had too much hair for the heat. So, we pour food over the fence by the gate so we can grab him but he refuses to leave his shady tree. He’s panting so hard. That gave Cathy the desire to help him, so I loaded the stanchion onto the Zen buggy, put the pups up, and Cathy waved the cows away so I could drive into the main pasture. Oh hell, the hay in back! The cows swarmed me. Lol. She waves them away, we yank the stanchion off and I whip the buggy around and race the cows to the gate. Left it in the yard, along with Blue, and walked to where we were shearing under an oak tree. Really and truly people, I’m rarely on that side of the fence. I pretended I wasn’t scared, purely unrational fear, and just started setting up. As I begin to shear, they surround us. All the animals have come to watch the show.
The Munchkins settled in around the tree we were under and the horses hung out and we even got to pet Sasha. The cows eventually left, and no sign of baby Redfeather the whole time. Hope he’s ok. It took 2 1/12 hours then Marshall was so proud, he didn’t want to get off the stand. Such a sweet boy. Somehow, he was even better than the statue goat of the other day. Must have been his attitude, calm and sweet. This boys curls are so big and long that you take them off lock by lock. Angel, last years outside bottle baby nuzzled me and laid his head in my lap. Then, we did the whole thing again, to get all the shearing supplies back in the yard. Andy followed White Owl into the woods to look for the baby but never did find him. There are no buzzards, so we’re thinking he’s ok.
Well, that’s pretty well been my day, minus the girl checks, feedings, cooking dinner and the writing of this blog. It takes an hour each night when Spirit tells me to write, then 2 hours during the day to upload and edit the pics, find errors, tweak and write about the day. These blogs may get shorter when the babies start arriving. You’re probably saying, Yay, shorter! 🙂 Don’t forget……White Flowers. Signing off at Curly Locks Ranch. P.S. If y’all only want to hear about the goats, and not the other stuff, let me know. I’ll tally it up and see.