Over the past few days, a friend has been sending me pictures of wild horses from Vieques. They are beautiful, and I love it when people see horses and think of me. The Vieques horses, despite being somewhat thin after a recent drought, appeared playful, frolicking in a happy herd. All except for one. I couldn’t help but notice the picture of the lone horse standing by herself, turned away, staring into the distance. If I were a horse, that is the horse I’d be. Perhaps she, too, is writing a novel in her head, imagining the adventures of fictional horses.
14 years ago, I went on an adventure that didn’t go quite so well (or maybe it did?). I signed up for a yoga teacher training course in Ibiza, which I quit after a week. I stayed on the island, though, exploring on my own. Sometimes, at the terrace of the hotel where I was staying, I’d see the girls who were enrolled in the yoga teacher training course and chat with them for a bit. Except on the days when they took a vow of silence. Then we just gestured. Anyway, one evening I wrote an email to a friend at home in Texas and told her that I had enjoyed dinner with the girls, but that they had afterwards all gone to a bar and I had stayed behind to enjoy a quiet evening with a book. She wrote back immediately to say she was very worried about me. That friend never got me. Eventually we drifted apart.
The year after the yoga teacher training I went on another trip to Ibiza with some of the same people, and ended up spending lots of time in my room. It was the year I started painting daily watercolors, the year I started blogging. The year also when I published my first book.
Anyway, sometimes it’s a bit sad and lonely being the reclusive horse. But it has its perks. It’s been a strange weekend and I’ve been feeling a bit blah. But all in all, things are ok. I made some progress with my next novel, Cassandra Brings Disaster, pushing through some scenes that didn’t feel right and smoothing out the kinks. I had an encounter with someone from a past that now seems very distant, and that encounter depressed me. Though it shouldn’t have. I really have spent so much time in places where I don’t belong, pretending to be someone I am not. I live a much more authentic life now. I shoud remember to be grateful for that.
Then I spent two days pretty much by myself, which was nice but maybe excessive. I spent a little too much time online. Might be time for some saltwater and a few analog days.
