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5/20/2016

And When Your Heart Burns

When your heart burns, ask yourself, What if this is all there is? Right now, what if all that you have -- where you work, where you live (whether you are single, married, or in between), what car you drive, the car that's in the shop, your bus ticket, your bathtub, this sky, these stars -- what if it is all that you will ever have? What if you'll never be able to fix that hole in the wall? What if you are sitting on millions, but you are alone? What if this is all there is?

And for me...what if there's no book deal, no true love coming, no horse of my own, no cure for my illness? What if this small apartment, my aged cat, my lack of furniture, my barn job that's way below my experience, my few possessions, and my few clothes are all that I will ever have? What if I will have to fight my dark thoughts forever? What if this is it? Would this be all right?

Yes.

It has to be, because in this moment, this is my reality. I can accept it, or I can feel utterly defeated. Which one will I choose today? Will I choose to live inside a world of frustration, or will I do the best damn job I can while cleaning disgusting feed buckets. Well, my fingernails are black underneath, if that tells you anything. Suit up, show up, do the best job I can. In this moment, that is all I can do.

No.

Dream like a fire tearing through kindling. Dream like a warrior heading home to see the child he's never seen. Dream like a girl sitting in her closet, waiting for that one phone call. Dream like no one has ever dreamt before. Dream you will ride again, and dream that in the show ring, you will kick the ass of anyone you've ever worked for. Dream that motherfucker who told you not to dream will take a cross country trip and learn how to dream himself. When your heart burns, ask it where it wants to go. Dream like a windstorm ripping through the tallest trees. And dream that true love is coming, because magic makes you feel alive, and life is too short to feel any. other. way.

I see stars.

And then make sure the feed buckets are spotless.

C.A. MacConnell