It came to me like a lightning bolt. I was in the Santa Monica Mountains with my friend Bob after making our way out onto a knoll on “my” Boney Mountain. The ocean smell was intoxicating as it rode in on the insistent roaring wind blowing up from the Pacific Ocean. He picked me up and held me over his head, yelling to me through the noise of the strong ocean wind, “Now fly!”
At first every part of me was screaming, “Put me down! You’re going to drop me! I’ll get hurt!”
But, then, something struck me like a lightening bolt from — well, from somewhere — “Just do it!” I stuck out my arms, straightened my legs and just let go.
I was flying! It felt as though the wind had just picked me up — right out of his arms! The sun was still going down, that aromatic fragrance of the Chaparral was still incredibly exhilarating . . . but — I was flying!
I trusted. I surrendered. I gave up control. And . . . I was flying!
Throughout my life I have remembered that moment in time — when I consciously let go and trusted. I could clearly see — that day over 40 years ago — when I let go, I truly could fly. It just took trust and being willing to surrender to what might come.
“It’ll never be noticed on a galloping horse!” My mom’s favorite saying for everything.
Caricature of me on my horse by my very talented niece, Brianna Eggers Marcus
When younger (young and dumb?), I thought mom was “such a Pollyanna!” Like that was such a terrible thing??!!Actually, mom had a pretty good outlook on life.Basically, “Don’t sweat the small stuff—it’s all small stuff!” So . . . I thought the title of my own little version of “House on Mango Street” should be titled (wait for it) “It’ll Never Be Noticed on a Galloping Horse!”But then my friend, author Dianne White, suggested “Things Noticedfrom a Galloping Horse.” That spoke more to what I’d like to write about. I’ve literally taken myself on so many “rides” finally realizing all those “little” rides (which, of course, seemed monumental at the time) all led to here—it always was just “small stuff,” and never would be noticed anyway galloping by on my horse (my “high horse” as mom used to say).
Who is going to notice it all in the end anyway?!
I’ve always had this tendency to get so caught up in the minutiae—it’s all so very important!It —whatever IT is—has to be perfect in every way.Mom’s little saying has been such a great way to remind myself that it’s no big deal.
It’ll never be noticed on a galloping horse!
As I fly by, I’ll barely notice.And neither will anyone else!Because literally everyone is flying by on their own horse and certainly won’t notice it (and whether or not I did it just so perfectly).They’re all caught up in their own “little” dramas too.So—there ya go! — It’s no big deal.
However, there’s been a thing (or three) I’ve noticed — learned — in my life as I’ve been galloping along.I’ve done a lot of stuff in my life.Done a lot of things.Some things that have stood out as stepping stones for me that I’ve grown from—the person I’ve grown to become.My goal in all this is to have fun with it.To laugh at it.To enjoy the ride I’ve had, because it’s at times been a pretty wild ride!My hope is that by looking back over some of those things it’ll make it a little clearer to me—and to those I share it with.I’m finished with the trauma/dramas of my younger years.I’m ready to relax, have fun, and enjoy the scenery from up here on this horse I’ve been riding along through my life.My hope is you’ll enjoy the ride as well. There will be things here to laugh at, maybe a few tears—but mostly tears of pure and absolute joy, love and gratitude. I am so very grateful to finally love myself and my life, and that I survived those years and the struggles I put myself through.I’m done! It’s over—that part of my life. Now it’s time to just enjoy myself—and my life. To laugh at myself. To love and be loved. To tease and be teased—and have fun and play with it all.This thing called life.
Another caricature by a writer friend, Rebecca Wise
Throughout my life I have remembered that moment in time — when I consciously let go and trusted. I could clearly see — that day over 40 years ago — when I let go, I truly could fly. It just took trust and being willing to surrender to what might come.
