The Hazards of Love

It’s Friday of the week that Danny asked me to marry him. I try not to let my relationships or my actions identify me, but I think it’s safe to allow this occasion to resonate and cast its rays across my experience for awhile. I’m still soaking in how it’s changing me, and how I look at my future. Mostly because I’ve been so used to my words and actions only affecting me, and perhaps occasionally leaving a gentle smudge on those around me. Now there’s another person in all of this, and families, and investments. It’s humbling, and reorienting.

No one prepared me for what this very first week would be like. Up until the moment of your announcement, love is your own little secret between the two of you- it’s really only you two that know how entwining it has become. And as I declare this glorious union, I feel the pull of outside forces again as I reconnect with long lost friends, or close friends who have been outside this little world two people cocoon themselves in when they’re in love. I feel the pull of planning and budgeting and sorting for what will be a joyous celebrative wedding, but which will take a great deal of creativity and ingenuity to pull it off. There’s a thin layer of life between Dan and I right now as we work our butts off to get through spring and summer finals, work, and wedding planning. And so it begins.

I’ve had major rollercoasters and sensitivities this week that I was wholly unprepared for, and feel like I’ve already been through the gauntlet of wedding highs and lows. This morning, I woke up feeling ready to be centered. Ready to reconcile my many lives, collect all the moments of my time so far on Earth and allow them to help me be the human being that I was always meant to be in this moment. I want to find joy in the time I have with friends, joy in the time I have with Dan, joy in the time I can fully commit to my work, to our wedding, to the future, to God. Only in full committal to the life I am in, the person it’s made me, and the person I'm with will I be happy, and for the first time in a long time, I am really ready to be there.


The Best in the West

Yesterday was my third last day at Callister's. Yes, I have quit this job three times, and always on the absolute best of terms. Callister's has happily taken me back time and time again, even as I forget pereptually what the differene is between each of the farrier forges, what the difference is between keepers, togs, and slobber straps, and which saddles are rawhide, ralide, or fiberglass reinforced trees. The management has its issues, but for the most part, the people I work with on the floor are the absolute best coworkers that I've ever had.

This past month I was shuffled between the clothing department, the hats and boots department, and of course, tack. Everywhere I went, I was reintroduced to the daily achievements and struggles and pleasures of the middle class American West. People getting cheated on, people's injured horses, people's beautiful western weddings, people trying to get by with bad pay, bad hours, and a big truck payment. but they do it, and they do it with grace and good humor.

I had so missed the sturdy constitution of those who make up my rural past. there are so many things we don't see eye to eye on, and that's what makes my heartfelt companionship with my coworkers all the more meaningful. It doesn't matter what you think or how you feel- come in, do your job well, respect people, be polite and dependable, and make me laugh once in awhile- that's a good friend and a good coworker.
I'll be back to the cubicle job tomorrow, but not without the skills I have been thrice retaught by my favorite Western Outfitters. and not without the knee high Tony Lama cowboy boots I picked up there, either.