Inspiration...

Please say HI to my sister
Thanks...Kellie .
Inspiration comes from many different places
Such as Larry Mahan’s quote, inspired me to write my Mystery Road Intersection, in Octobers issue of Herbs & Things(http://www.coldensherbsandthings.com/ The Write Page) essay about others and my voice of writing, inspiration came through a quote, from an ad for the American Quarter Horse Association, in Hobby Farms Magazine, Sept/Oct 2008 issue.
It inspired me to share about another voice, the voice of family.
The quote read:

Life is a Ride
The important thing about choosing your path in life isn’t about where you are going, but who you bring along.

A picture, of a girl and her horse, behind the quote, touched me with feelings, only someone who’s life has revolved around horses from age two, a horse lover and owner could understand. Typing the words from the quote, a lump forms in my throat.

The horse in the picture is gray, which saddles up my mind for a ride down memory lane. It trails to my horse Mike, a gray half-Arab quarter horse. He was a present for my fifteenth birthday from my parents.

It was love at first sight the day we went to see him and I watched him boss his sibling colts and fillies around in the paddock. When they delivered him, he walked off the trailer as a gangly, six month old colt, with an attitude. I took the lead rope in hand, with my fifteen year old, matching attitude. It was a match made in heaven.

Our relationship spanned 32 years. He was with me through my teenage years and gave me comfort through my first love and the horrible day we broke up. Mike was there the day I married and consoled me during the deaths of my grandmother, uncle, my mother and others close to me. We did horse showing, played polo, drove cart; trail rode, goofed around, and did what family buddies do.

What he gave me was unconditional love. He gave me a place to cry with no judgment and a wonderful journey that lasted until he died.
When he died, our ride like no other was over. It was a change. He and I had been together longer than I had been married or some marriages last. I was sad this important piece of my world was no longer with me but glad we did it together.
Yes, he was ‘just’ a horse, but he was part of my family.

My other family my mom, dad, and sister, were a small family of four, with Irish and Scottish temperaments and triggers to match. Our life together well to say the least, was never boring. But it too, was a match made in heaven.
Our family, after my mothers death became three, then dad passed, making it two, my sister and me. Emotional things happened and one day my sister and I no longer spoke. Now I felt like one, from this family of four.

For close to twenty years, I was doing ok, living my life with out my family. After all, I have my husband and his family, who love me. I have close friends who are as close to family as anyone could have. But something inside of me was missing.

I did not realize, until one day knowing my sister was very ill, and later diagnosed with incurable colon cancer, when I hugged her for dear life, what it was.
In that hug, years faded away. The upset about what ever was gone. The fear to speak our minds, with respect for the other, no longer existed and I became certain, there is no one like a sister.

I had missed my sister over those years, and she me. We missed the fun times we shared, how we think alike, and have the same tastes. We missed our talks, the way we speak in unison; laugh out loud, in the same tone— at the same things.

Then I decided to follow a voice of inspiration and start a new business, Herbs & Things.
The day came I wanted to open the doors, I didn't want fanfare, or big ta—do about it. It wasn’t an opening, just opening the doors. Still my sister and her two daughters, my nieces, came to be with me on my first day.

My sisters response after I told her, she didn’t need to come, was “of course I had to. I have to be here It’s your first day open. It’s what a sister does, support her sister.”

Once they were here, it meant the world to me. We sat in the sun, waited for customers, and enjoyed each other’s company. A priceless time spent with family.
So it is true, it’s not about the path you choose but about who you bring along. Because they’ve come along for my Herbs & Things ride, no matter if it’s right or wrong, it will be one of best rides of a lifetime, like my ride with Mike.
Both a match only heaven could have made up.

Kellie

Passion-Real or Imagined

What is passion?
Passion capitalized means the sufferings of Christ between the night of the Last Supper and his death; this is not my passion.

The passion I’m speaking of, is the state or capacity of doing something fueled by external agents or forces, or as in my case internal forces—my gut feeling, the little voice in my head, or the crazy ideas I come up with— aka— My voice.

My voice, the voice of reason, the voice of intuition, spiritual guidance, or a voice that sounds like my mother, especially during the winter when I scuff my clunky, keep my feet warm boots on the barn floor, and I hear her say, “Kellie Marie” pick or feet up. Without a blink of an eye, I do what I’am told, with no fear of the voice or any doubt it is she telling like when I was a child, to pick up my feet.

When your passion or the truth of your soul comes through, it is an intense, overpowering conviction that drives you forward and squelches doubts. I’ve learned to listen better as I’ve matured, (you notice I did not say as I am getting older), and not fight it.

The Native American’s historical uses of herbs, and other cultures that don’t have the modern day medicines we do, who live sometimes healthier lives, I find intriguing. This intrigue has pushed me to want to know more. I want to learn the power of herbs and go back to a more natural way of life that will help us (the human race) live in a more harmonious state.

My passion, My Voice, not necessarily the voice of reason, is leading me to open this new business, Herbs & Things, even though I am not an expert on herbs, teas or running my own business. I do however, have a passion for drying herbs from my gardens and planting, growing and canning my own vegetables. How then do I cultivate this passion? What better way, than open a business on the very thing I want to learn more about.

I was in the shower when I heard the voice loud and clear. I guess my mind was open for reception. The shower is the one place I can hear the best. The running water lets me hear nothing else. The name Herbs & Things was specific and immediately ideas started filling my mind and has not stopped. I couldn’t stop even if I tried.

I must admit, I wonder, crosses my mind a lot. I wonder if I’ve ordered the right merchandise. Will I have enough? Will I do ok? Will people like my homey little Herbs & Things shed and the neat stuff inside? My voice tells me not to worry about that.

This journey is fueled by an overpowering conviction, coming from where—I don’t know. Why now— I don’t know that either. All I do know is I quit my job to be able to devote the proper amount time to launch this endeavor with another plus, I can spend more time on my writing.
The odd thing about quitting my job and spending money on this adventure is I feel no guilt or fear. It feels right. Does this lack of guilt and fear mean I am being true to my passion, my soul and my hearts intention? I know what I think.

Think about your passion. If you don’t know, what it is—listen to that voice inside your head. You know— that idea you say, no way I can’t do that or— what am I crazy to think such I thing. Go for it. You only live once, and saying I wonder, is much better than saying, I wished I tried.

Kellie

Searching for the Sand Man. I am not alone.

Last night while spending the evening with insomnia, I wrote this to Tricia at Faith Hope and Fiction in response to her Blog, Sleepless in Chicago.

The dogs are sleeping. My husband is not home yet. It’s well after midnight and I haven’t gone to bed, which is strange, my bedtime is usually around 10.
I have a lot on my mind I guess and the coffee I had at a birthday party at 6 PM I’m sure isn't helping.
With my new business a few days away from opening and the fact I, ten minutes ago, made the check out for the school taxes, causes a little worry. The bank account looks sad. This could be the reason I am still up, but I am not sure that’s it. Sleep has eluded me for the past ten years, for one reason or another.
I’m awake and wondering if any one else is up and out there or am I alone in my world, of toss and turn, fix the fans, turn the pillow, drink some water, look out the window at the barn through the rain, and place an order for more stock.
Sigh—yawn—the account is sagging at the shoulders now.
Therefore, I go searching, for what I am not sure. My eyes are too tired to read so I hunt for something, anything that will lull me into drowsy eyed slumber land. When behold but whom do I find in my search, but a fellow sleepless night wanderer, Tricia Crisafulli, a friend, mentor and chief cheerleader.
It’s a comfort to my sleepless mind to know that there’s a connection, not only through the world of writing but also through the world of sleepless nights, with someone out there.
I think I’ll be able to sleep now, knowing I am not alone, padding across the carpet in the dark, searching for the infamous sand man.
Good night my friend Tricia Crisafulli and let us sleep tight.