Coming Back to Earth

I worked with a video crew over the weekend, and spent most of yesterday cleaning up all the details and sending off what we shot. It was a bit like falling into a time warp to find myself standing next to the camera, asking interview questions and pushing firmly but gently to keep moving so we would get all our shots. We did fall an hour behind at one point, but I was able to catch up and end the day without any overtime.

The crew came back to my house with me around six-thirty, and we relaxed for a few minutes before they hit the highway towards their home. They lived near Washington DC, so this part of New England was all new to them. I could tell that they liked it, and they were pretty amazed to see the horses in my backyard. I wanted to leap from my car and run over to hug Silk when I pulled into the driveway. I restrained myself, and chatted politely with my co-workers. It was such a relief to concretely know that I hadn’t slipped back all those years to that life where I defined myself as a TV and film producer. Those were days of no family, no animals, no green trees and flowering gardens. I am so much happier and centered and loved here in this little refuge. All day, I’d been feeling so disconnected from myself, like this world didn’t exist or I had only imagined it.

I sat on the patio and talked to the cameraman and the soundman, watching my daughter swing on the wooden swing that my husband hung from one of our trees. My horses were grazing in the pasture behind her. My dog was sleeping next to my feet. I was pleased that my husband took good care of everyone in my absence. It made me want to jump up and shout at these guys, “Do you see how lucky I am?”

Now, I’m back to dealing with my itchy Silk, whose skin is rubbed raw on her face from the fly mask. I’m worrying that Siete might be having another bout with Lyme Disease. She was cranky, and her back feet were very tender. Over the week-end, I was convinced that she was getting a hoof abscess. Yesterday, my neighbor, who is a wise and experienced horsewoman, came over to take a look. She insisted that my little horse looked perfectly fine and asked me if I was maybe transferring some of my own anxiety onto the horse.

I knew she was right. When I’m worried about things in my life that I can’t control, I often find problems to obsess about with my horses. Now that I’m done with the documentary, Siete is moving around normally and I am able to give her more attention again. On the phone yesterday, another neighbor told me that she felt sorry for me because I had so many animals to take care of every day. She asked, “Why don’t you get rid of some of them? They’re expensive and they demand so much of your time.” She just doesn’t get it. The animals are never a burden. They are what keeps me sane.