This is for the cowboy and cowgirl in all of us...
The cubicle cowgirl… I have become her. Somehow, my new life
has shaped and molded me into a wannabe professional wearing dress slacks in
place of faded jeans, peep toe shoes take the place of muddy, worn boots, and
my favorite cowboy hat hangs on my wall instead of my head. Now I answer phones and sell internet service
for a communications company. I answer the phone from 8-5 in my most friendly
voice. Instead of gathering frost-back horses in the crisp, morning air, I
tolerate being cussed at (karma may be turning the tables on me) for product
failures and bill mishaps. I sit and
stare endlessly at a computer within 6 foot padded cubicle walls. Gone are the mountain trails and pine scent
summers I loved. Some days I can’t find
the room to breathe, and my heart feels heavy; my shoulders carry the weight of
the world. My saving grace is the laughter
with my co-workers and friends I have made, and the breath of fresh air on my
fifteen minute outdoor break. The
satisfaction of a hard day’s work outdoors clearing trails and hosting guests
on horseback are faded memories, as I strive to find the deeper purpose of my
new and improved life I’ve chosen. This
is the hardest job I have ever had, being something I'm necessarily not.
You see, cubicle dwellers, company CEO’s, doctors, contractors,
they all used to tell me how lucky I was to live in the mountains. I knew it.
I felt it. Strongly. I never thought I took my life growing up
horseback in the mountains for granted.
Ever. The feeling of luck and love settled peacefully throughout me, and
I let it seep into every fiber of my soul.
But the pull of real life had me feeling I somehow wasn’t doing all I
should financially for my family. I used
to listen to guests tell me how lucky I was to not hear the sound of traffic
and sirens, that my closest neighbor was miles away, that my children were growing
up understanding the important ethical things in life; they were unplugged from
devices and tuned into their surroundings. They used to tell me how lucky I was
to have my parents and family around every day.
(There were days I begged to differ on that subject …haha). I knew all of these things.
But now, the tables have turned. I find myself thinking they are the lucky
ones. They are the people that were cut
out to work in cubicles and high rises and hospitals. That is the life they know and love. They are programmed and hard-wired for the
busy life. They never expected to see a
bald eagle soaring in the sky above, or hear the call of a bugling bull, or see
new life come to pass on the ranch in the form of calves and foals. They didn’t expect to look out a window and
see mountain peaks or clear mountain streams.
They never knew the love of riding a horse full tilt across a meadow
with the wind urging you to pull your hat down tight. They didn’t see the hush of the land with the
setting sun, or the dawn of a new day glancing off the dew in the meadow. They feel content, while I feel
restless.
The perks of being a cubicle cowgirl with a little financial
freedom and comforts are nice, but it doesn’t hold a candle to being the real
thing. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful
or condescending, but I sure hope that trail comes back around soon…
~Happy Trails
