When There’s No Grass

Willie James and I arrived late, or early, at some point Saturday afternoon to our first temporary residence in New Mexico this winter. It was 2:30ish mountain time zone when I secured our site. It took longer than I expected to get here because we lost an hour crossing the Texas – New Mexico state line. To add to my mental been-driving-for-a-long-time brain fog, the text I sent to my family letting them know I arrived safely reached them at 4:30ish eastern time zone – before I set up camp. 

I swear the time changing has my mind and body whirling more so than if I’d slammed back a couple of warm margaritas (without the ice to avoid brain freeze, of course). My body is set to eastern time zone, but I’m using Willie James’ internal clock as the excuse to climb in bed at eight o’clock mountain-time because it’s actually ten o’clock eastern time! I know there’s a few people out there that know me better and just called out, “Bullshit!” They’re right, we’ve been curling up at 7:30 and fast asleep by eight.

What set Willie James off kilter when we arrived to our campsite is the lack of grass. Watching him reminded me of one of my mother’s sheltie puppies that she brought home in the winter. She knew to pee ‘n poop in the snow. As the warmer weather melted the snow the amount of terrain for her to do her business shrunk. Well, with a full bladder, Willie James scouted for an acceptable space to relieve himself for several minutes. 

This is his first experience at a location where there is not a blade of grass to be found. There’s only rocks, boulders, desert shrubs, few pine trees and more pebbles for the random wild flowers to grow. The only soft ground the harsh landscape had to offer my little chiweenie was the pine needles and leaves the shrubs shed weeks ago that the winds hadn’t sucked up and deposited elsewhere. 

Poor little guy frantically paced. I stood there holding the leash stating, “Dude, just go. You’ve been yippin’ at me for too many miles. I know ya gotta go. What are you waiting for?” 

As I write this post, the coyotes have started their morning call at the sunrise. I’d like to think of this as their way to honor the sunrise as the sky begins to casts the hues to deep reds and warm oranges blending into the night sky. They seem to yip, howl and yammer like clock work based on the location of the sun in relationship to the horizon. A subtle reminder I’m in the wild west and not at my previous home of twenty-six years listening to the neighbor’s rooster announce the start of a new day.

There’s something about New Mexico that entices my heart to explore this region. I feel at home in Texas, but a deeper sense of settled, or grounded, in New Mexico. There’s a snow storm forecasted to engulf the mountain ranges to the north and it has me wondering if I will be able to explore the area that pulls me to come closer. I had hoped to arrive in New Mexico long before now, but circumstances beyond my control kept me in central Texas. No complaints. I’ve been blessed to stay in state parks I had not last year. For example, the post I wrote about McKinney Falls State Park (Austin) and the hawk that stopped my heart in On The Fence Post. I was grateful to have stayed at Bastrop State Park (Bastrop) where we met a heart-centered couple camping next to us, explored the many structures the gentlemen of the CCC built and observed the destruction of the forest fire in 2011. 

So far there’s only been two campgrounds I’ve revisited: South Llano River State Park (Junction, Texas) and the one I’m parked at now. It’s nice to see the improvements both have undergone since my previous stay. 

Yesterday, while on one of our long walks, I reflected on many of the changes and shifts within myself since I walked the same path less than a year ago.

On a personal level, at the end of last year’s journey, I was in a space of being present. I didn’t think back on the past as means to punish myself, and I wasn’t looking too far into the future. I simply was enjoying the moment I was in and loving life. Upon my return “home” to Michigan, that evaporated and I dived head first into the well constructed pit of hell I spent fifty-plus years creating. It didn’t take me long to realize that no matter where I go, I’m with me. It’s like quitting one toxic job to find yourself in similar situations at another location with different people doing the same things that caused you to leave in the first place. When we change, our life experience changes. As they say, the grass isn’t greener on the other side of the fence… it’s how you maintain the grass you’ve got.

On a professional level, the number of quality clients I virtually assist is on the rise and I’m writing more (which feels amazing). There is something about being able to help fellow entrepreneurs with tasks that I enjoy doing that they do not (or don’t have time to do). I cannot describe the feeling without sounding dorky or having it read like a bad sales pitch. Y’all know my clients come to me for help with their WordPress websites, what more can I say? Other than… I’ve recently been helping more people with their ebooks. I love graphic design and crafting magazine layouts (remember when I published Elements For A Healthier Life Magazine?). I enrolled in a course to learn more about magazine/newsletter layouts and signed up for another that focuses on publishing. Again, something is pulling me in that direction. Maybe it was the reaction I received when I posted a picture on Facebook of a doodle I drew (which is not one of my nicer looking doodles) that inspired this, or the fact that I’m working on revising the mission of ElementsForAHealthierLife.com again. Who knows? Does it really matter why? I’m enjoying the creative process and open to what’s next.

What I do know is there is a beautiful sunrise on the other side of my window and I’d like to step out into the brisk morning air, raise my mug of hot tea to the sky and give thanks for another day to be creative.

Life is an amazing adventure whether or not there’s grass to stand upon.

Captured moments along the way…