Stars struggle to light the crisp pre-dawn sky.

The barn door opens with a creak and I’m greeted by the low good-morning whicker of Big Daddy and Athena.
Dishevelled black forelock askew, Big Daddy blinks against the light from his stall, Athena, still elegantly white and composed, watches me haul in large plastic containers full of warm mash from hers.

This is my peace and contentment. Two stalls, a hayloft and the moreish aroma of horse and nature.

After a long day, a frustrating morning with the kids or with just the need to connect with myself, I come here.
The simplicity of routine – feeding the horses, mucking stalls, stacking hay and spending time with my chocolate-eyed steeds, takes the stress from my soul and clears my head.

Everyone should have a space ­– physically or mentally – where they can recharge.
It might be a warm aromatic bath in a dimly lit bathroom, the growl of machinery in a garage, speeding over the frozen or muddy terrain with the wind stinging your skin – whatever provides that sense of oneness in yourself and lets your troubles fall away.
Healthy living isn’t just about what you feed your body.
Your mental diet is just as important.
It’s the way we perceive ourselves, where we are in our life and where we think we should be.
These things have a way of buoying us up or dragging us down, if we aren’t careful.

When my mom was diagnosed with cancer, she hurtled helter-skelter full-speed ahead into positive thought.
I’m sure she had her moments of doubt, anger and frustration, but only moments.
She didn’t allow people to come at her with words of pity or condolence. Why did she need that?
Her mantra was simple – I will overcome this challenge.
And she did, for much longer than any medical statistic said she would.
When the experts gave her six months, she gave them the finger, and with a glint in her eye she pulled off a Pierre Trudeau-esque pirouette and said, “Watch me!”
It was more than two years later and into her third relapse that she accepted the battle had been fought, the war was over.
Still, the cancer didn’t kill her.
It might have taken her body, but my mom was herself to the very end, fighting for every breath with charm and wit.
A truly remarkable woman and a person I often look to for wisdom, even now, when all I can do is look back on how she handled the hurdles of life dropped down in front of her.

That is how I find myself in the barn, sitting on a bale of hay, chanting as the early morning light sends colourful tendrils out across the sky, as though waking up the world with a gentle touch.

Because, in the midst of self-doubt, a highly critical inner voice and general feeling I might be doing less with my life than I could, I find peace.
A lightness where optimism can flourish, where words of encouragement squash the negative voices that can undermine our intentions.
Eating healthy may lighten the physical load my body carries, but taking a moment for positive self-reflection and encouragement, is the only way to lift the emotional burdens we strap to our backs.
Releasing regrets and purposefully recognizing personal accomplishments goes a long way in lightening our soul.

A body might be for a lifetime, but your soul, I hear, is forever.

photo@chathamdailynews.ca

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