Sometimes it feels like you’re the only one out there, on the outside, looking in, and you wish you could be in there too.  In the circle. A part of it all. Accepted. Allowed. Included. Embraced.

But maybe that’s not where you belong. And you remind yourself it’s okay. And that you’re not the only one. There’s a lot of us satelliting society. Not quiet fitting in to the norm. Maybe that is the norm.

Remember, stars were born in darkness, creativity sparks in stillness, passion takes root in the void.  Some of us need silence. That’s the only way our souls can sing. Maybe being on the outside isn’t such a bad place after all.

Somewhere out there, beyond the circle. Apart.  In your own unique space. Loving the time, the place, the peace and calm, the beauty and space for the imagination to roam wild. And maybe that’s where the circle extends after all.

Since completing my Long Quiet Ride, several people have shared links to other folks who are doing or have done long rides. Seems like lots of folks out there are doing it. Maybe what I did and am writing about isn’t so special after all, though it sure felt huge at the time. And as I am deep in the throes of writing about it, it is not feeling any smaller.

Still it was a long, quiet ride. Quiet was a prevailing theme. Most of it was not shared. I couldn’t share it. First because I didn’t want to get in trouble for being where I was and going the way I went. Second because I chose to remain present, with my horses, where I was, with the people I was meeting – not distracted by a screen. But most importantly, it was not something to be shared at that time. It was an inner journey as much as an outer one. No, even more so. It was a pilgrimage more than an adventure. Something not meant to be shared until the trip is behind you and has settled into your weary bones and weathered skin and well-earned graying hair.  

It is tempting to compromise one’s trip for recognition and financial support – but that is a different trip.  I was encouraged to make it a TikTok challenge –  and though the idea of being “something” and “someone” tempts us all, truth is, dancing center stage is not my trip and so I bowed out. I think I’m one of those who dances like no one looking because I believe no one is. At least most of the time. Bob looked. And I’m glad he did and still does.

The story I’m writing about and will share with you soon is something I did for me – proving myself to myself. I’m  too old to still be trying to prove myself to others. At least, I should be over that. By now I should have learned to live without acceptance and approval from family, community, society – though I think we’re hard wired to want and even need those things. It’s survival. Fitting in. Being a part, not apart.

Some things we never outgrow.

Some of us never did fit in.

The outlaw, outcast, outliner, drawing outside the lines, living outside the circle.

It’s not what we want, but at some point, we accept who we are, and learn to revel in the freedom it brings.

Those of us outside the circle dance in the stars rather than with the stars.

What if there were no boundaries? Nothing to contain us, define us, confine us? What if it was all open space and we were all in it together?

Opening the circle.

We see the same moon.

We breathe the same air.

I am not separate from you.

I will not turn my back, close my eyes , close my heart.

May I forever be the curious child. Reveling in the sovereignty of days before assumptions, separations, road blocks and blinders closed my circle.

May I always be able to open a conversation, a harmonious song, a melody blending notes, a whole composition, as a holy act. Dare to dream of a life exempt of boundaries and barbed wire, locked gates and closed hearts.

Instead, having the courage to craft an open circle big, broad, wild and free.

Until next time,

With love, always love,

Gin