Meeting my inner cowgirl, and finding out how quiet she can be
Earlier this year, I wrote about entering the back half of my life, my “second curve,” by turning 50. At this time in my life, I face the challenge of raising teenagers, helping an aging parent, and running a small business that has taken on a life of its own. Lately, the most predictable aspect of my life has been the degree of fatigue I feel by the end of each day. When I climb into bed at night, I can scarcely read more than a couple of sentences before falling asleep.
I have spent a lifetime becoming a doctor and the last decade and a half being a mother to four children, but last summer I wondered what it would be like to spend a few days away from it all. While searching the internet, I came across the “Find Your Inner Cowgirl” Retreat over Mother’s Day weekend, at C Lazy U Ranch, in Granby, Colorado, just a stone’s throw from the Continental Divide. I signed up right away.
I arrived to the ranch seeking more balance in my life, not just in my mind, but also on a yoga mat and the back of a horse. I spent four glorious days meditating, practicing yoga, and riding horses with 14 other women who were searching for their inner cowgirls too. For the most part, their desires mirrored my own: wanting to step away from the hustle-and-bustle-and-go-go-go of our lives in search of a grand adventure.
The first night involved a mixture of yoga, stretching and meditation in a small room of the main lodge at the ranch. Our instructor challenged us to leave our worries behind and focus on staying in the present moment. At first, this was quite a challenge for me. I have a bad habit of thinking about the next thing before the current one is finished. Building “to-do” lists in my mind has practically become second nature. Creating silence in my mind and stillness with my body was far more difficult than I anticipated. It took all my energy to focus on the crackling fire in the room to maintain awareness of the here and now.
The following morning, during yoga and meditation class, it did not take as much time or effort to quiet my mind. I still had to work to concentrate on the crackling fire, but coordinating deep breathing with light stretching and meditation felt more natural to me than it had the night before. At the end of the second session, I had more energy than usual.
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After meditation, we met our horses. I was paired with Oliver, a small, gray, and white horse, whose attention span was equivalent to one of my teenagers. We led our horses into the covered arena, and Cathy, our instructor, led us through a series of groundwork exercises. After setting a goal of collaboration with our equine partner, we began deep breathing, first on our own and then in tandem with our horse. After all, a horse will not trust you in the saddle if they do not trust you on the ground. Oliver and I stood side-by-side in calm tranquility for nearly an hour. In fact, Oliver was so comfortable and relaxed that he nearly fell asleep. I had never experienced a kinship with a horse — or any animal for that matter — quite like this in my life.
Over the next two days, I spent mornings stretching out on a yoga mat followed by training time in the arena improving my horsemanship skills and sunny afternoons riding Oliver on muddy trails through the snow-capped Rocky Mountains. After the third trail ride, I was more in sync with my horse and with myself than ever before. Now, with little effort, I could stay present and grounded on the yoga mat and in the saddle.
But the ranch retreat still had one more lesson to teach. Fatigue had gotten the best of me on the first night the Northern Lights graced the sky. I slept through the entire celestial event of a lifetime. Not wanting to miss my second chance to witness the magic of the aurora borealis, a small group of us agreed to meet up in a dark field at the center of the ranch around midnight. Initially, heavy cloud cover obscured our view, so we agreed to regroup a half hour later before turning in for the night.
Feeling cold, I headed toward the fireplace outside the main lodge to keep warm. Oddly, despite the midnight hour, I did not feel tired at all. When I sat down in front of the fire, I took a few deep breaths of the cool night air. I was alone and surrounded by stillness. I did not feel the need to do anything at that moment. There was no “to-do” list swirling in my head. And for a half hour, there was silence. True silence. A silent landscape. A silent body. And most important, a silent mind. The voice in my head — the one full of doubt, judgement, fear, and endless lists — said absolutely nothing. For 30 minutes. Like it was the easiest thing in the world. Like I had done it a hundred times before. “Finding My Inner Cowgirl” revealed a path to inner solitude, a place I will be able to find whenever I need it.
I cannot imagine a better gift for Mother’s Day.
Dr. Niran Al-Agba is a pediatrician in Silverdale and writes a regular opinion column for the Kitsap Sun. Contact her at niranalagba@gmail.com.
This article originally appeared on Kitsap Sun: Finding solitude and silence on a horse ranch
