Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Been a very long time since I had my boots on. Got lots of boots. All of 'em cowboy boots and all of 'em well-worn and more comfortable than anything I've ever had on my feet. It's been a long time...because my feet weren't havin' it. And maybe...just maybe...it was something I needed to miss. Maybe it was all about remembering what matters most. Maybe...I just needed some time outta my boots so I could remember how much bein' in them matters to me.
Today, for the first time in more time I can count...I woke up all cowgirl-ed up. For those of you who have no clue what that means:
'Cowgirl up' is a rodeo saying. It's about picking yourself up, dusting yourself off, and gettin' back on the horse. In other words, quit your whinin' and get on with it.
Now that you know..
I woke up this morning with my cowgirl 'tude all in my face. This is a good thing. Well, for me anyway. Because as much as I love the softer side of me, there's that other side of me that I've not only missed, but I treasure beyond words. It's that part of me that knows about her courage and her cajones and her absolute ability to just freakin' do it. I've been paying so much attention to the 'softer' side, I'd forgotten just how much I love that other part. And I've missed her more than I can even tell ya.
True to form, first thing I did was grab my favorite pair of boots (and they're older than the hills!), dust 'em off and oil 'em up. And then....I said a little prayer to the Big Cowgirl and put my feet in them. No problem. Then...I stood up. NO PROBLEM! WOWYEEEEEFREAKINHAWWWW! GOT MY BOOTS ON!
If you've never had a pair of real cowboy boots...the kind that have horse shit stuck in the seams and scars all over the tops of them; the kind that fit like skin; the kind that have carried you from here to Timbuktu...you probably have no idea why this is such a big deal. But trust me when I say this: there is nothing better than puttin' on your boots and feelin' that feelin' of being home. Nothing better.
(a little aside: Right before I went to Italy for the first time, my cousin warned me to NOT wear my boots and hat. Told me I'd "look like a tourist". To which I responded, "I AM a tourist, you bonehead. And they're gonna know that with or without my boots. I'm wearing what's most comfortable to ME...cuz I'm gonna truck my pretty little cowgirl ass all over Italy...and I'm gonna enjoy the walk!" Turns out, those boots and that hat got me invited to more LOCALS (as in...people who lived there) parties than any stupid pretend shit ever would have. I was just being me...and they loved it! My authenticity (as it were) also got me a pair of CUSTOM-MADE leather jeans that would have cost me a small fortune had it not been for the Italian owner (of said shop) who happened to think cowgirls were the sexiest things on the planet. HAAAA!)
So today...I have on my boots. And for the first time in more time than I can count, I can feel that horse again. I can smell him. I can feel the wind in my hair and the energy we share and the absolutable indescribable joy of being the cowgirl I've always been.
THIS is my bliss.