It's sad but the Ph.D. terminal degree, called thus cause the process while enriching, nearly kills you, stopped me from writing and reading for quite awhile. Average completion time, 7 years. Most of this is spent trying to translate into scientifically sound and hopefully creative and passionate language-- a mind map of your inner workings. How you know what you know and where your ideas come from and how you manifest them and what's it mean and why should anyone care? Create new knowledge and make it credible and written well enough to cause a rise in the breath and heart and mind of the readers.
Funny how life unfolds, and sometimes not funny at all. Life's challenging. I can't say it any clearer than that. Suicides of beautifully talented, 24 year old girls who don't even know what life tastes like yet, horse accidents and learning to fly 15 feet up and back out of a trailer...the flying was a whoosh, the landing, well, not so much. Horses don't like to be confined and when facing an exit, one must move quickly out of the way. 1200 pounds with a thrust from back haunches to front feet off the ground...well, it's not something you're gonna stop. So you fly and luckily I still bounce pretty well evidently. Coulda busted my neck but didn't. And I'm not selling my horses, mother..I sold my motorcycle cause my brother died on one, but I'm keeping the horses. I'm grown and will die one day, somehow. I'm not looking forward to it, but I'm not running from it either. I like living my life, fully.
My mare, Grace, has a stifle wound. That's a horse's knee. I don't know if she'll recover and she's my heart..cantering on her with a red-tail hawk flying above you, or deer on the ridge, or elk in the distance, well, it's just plain beyond words.
It's all about heart and feeling it rise to your throat. And loving every second.
My friend says when I die, it'll say on my headstone, "I got things to do!" Can't keep a good girl down..less she's dead I guess and then, well, I figure I'll get better at flyin.