Broken tiles become beautiful mosaics—

Life can be just as demanding as it is yielding. It seems like better days are usually around the corner; epitomizing, “no pain, no gain.” While it’s not always easy, we persevere, emerging stronger than we imagined.

~ We’re not broken. We’re remolded.

-v.

He was a handsome, young steed that we rescued from a recent fire in the canyon. He was the only one to be found from the remaining group of wild horses in the area. Despite the blaze and glowing skies, he did well to tolerate his “incarceration”. Still, he paced about the pen, grunting and snorting in angst; hopelessly confined, looking for a gap to freedom.

It took just over a week for the fire to be snuffed out and the last of the smoldering embers to die and turn to ash. During this time he grew calmer, but his fiery spirit couldn’t be contained—nor should it. Despite my efforts, he stole my heart and in that secret place I will keep his name, ”Ajei”, which means my heart in Navajo.

The smokey haze finally disappeared, giving way to brilliant blue skies. The light of morning exhibited his muscularity and poised posture. As the rays intensified with the rising sun, so did his restlessness. It was obvious to us all…today was the day.

We had no problem getting him into the trailer—he knew. The closer we got to the canyon, his excitement grew. After just over an hour we arrived at his home in the hills. We drove back into the pastureland, far from the roadside. We were relieved to see the hill untouched by the past week’s fury. The trees stood like clusters of guardsmen amongst the scattered shrubs and tall grass; providing an oasis.

Ajei became rattled as the trailer door hit the ground. Freedom was just a few steps backwards and out there…where he remembered. We stood back and allowed him to find his way. And, that he did. We were lost in the moment. That pure energy and passion he possessed just wasn’t meant to be harnessed. Only a matter of seconds and he was out of sight. The silence that fell between our skipped heartbeats was all that remained.

As we closed the door and secured the lock we heard a noise—a gentle nicker. “Ajei”, I whispered, as he stood aside a grand oak draped in Spanish moss. That low pitched guttural sound; a heartfelt thank you. Before turning away, he gave one last glance; then he was gone.

A sound in the distance could be heard, as a veil of dust rose above the hilltop. Thunderous, pounding hooves of the unbridled herd shook the ground; wild, spirited and unbroken—just as it should be.

Ajei. He was home.

-v.

A revered soul. A wild spirit. Ajei’s innate freedom to “be” depends upon the hearts around him…hearts beating for life other than their own.

See ya tomorrow at 8:00am!

-v.

Broken crayons remain true to their hue—

Old, worn and broken crayons tossed into an old shoebox or cookie tin still has the same magic like the once pristine version of themselves…. saturating colors between the lines; bringing pictures to life. While the outside doesn’t always reflect the wonder within, the luster remains.

Know your worth; reclaim your truth.

-v.