Tag: women

{Bloom}

Heather CountrymanLeave a comment

If I wrote a list of all the things I’ve learned the hard way, I’d be here all night rambling on about a whole lot that doesn’t matter to most people.
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I’m a very reflective person when it comes to my actions, and unfortunately, I’m a doer before a thinker sometimes. But I’m also an over-thinker prior to making big decisions.
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There is a vulnerability that’s raw and scary when being reflective and writing things to share on a social platform. And it should be said that sometimes I share for me, and sometimes I share for the voiceless that can’t find the words. Writing, for me, has become sort of like peeling away a layer at a time when I feel safe enough to. And that opens one up to mockery, to hate, to frustration, and to wanting to erase every last memory and word in my head, on paper and in my heart.
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But I also preach a lot about being true and authentic, which has become such an overused word anymore. In order to stay true to the path of growth, erasing isn’t an option. So, I pick up the pen and write another word, another sentence, and pump life into these thoughts inside my head with hopes that my experiences maybe help another find their struggling voice.
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The thing we all have to remember about social media is that it usually is just a glimpse into a glamorous moment of a normally mundane life. We aren’t all followed around by fancy cameras posing on mountain tops, or riding horses through big country, traveling exotic places, or glamorizing our lives for others to see in a small square. Life is meant to be lived better than that, and I believe, more locally. Bloom where you are planted.
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Quit looking over fences at what appear to be greener grasses. Wait on your roots to catch up with your wings right where you are at. Weed your own garden, and your flowers will grow💙And that is something that I’ve learned the hard way…

{Everlasting Nancy}

Heather CountrymanLeave a comment

The definition of “ageless beauty” is: adjective. not aging or appearing to age. lasting forever; eternal; undying: the ageless beauty of Greek sculpture.

I met a woman day before last that gave life to this rambling, this passing thought of mine, that I choose to share with women out there that may struggle with similar feelings about aging, or coming to terms with their own self worth. And before I get too long winded, I want to thank Nancy for this minuscule, pivotal window that she passed through my life leaving me with a strong impression on self acceptance.

She wore two long, gray braids, tied with leather thongs, and her hair parted evenly down the middle. What once appeared to be dark, brown hair, now showed blue roan tones of every hue of silver streaking. She wore a dirty, silverbelly Stetson crooked slightly sideways, faded, creased Levi button fly 501’s, a man’s ivory, pearl snap shirt tucked with an embroidered cross on the pocket. She was a breast cancer survivor evident of only having one left. Her pant legs tucked deep in her Olathe boots with stovepipe tops and steep, under slung heels. A hand-tooled, herman oak leather belt with an acorn pattern cinched her middle and was finished with an old silver buckle with very worn edges and Navajo turquoise inlay that scripted her name, Nancy.

Her quintessential cowgirl look was finished by her tanned and heavily lined face, and lithe, wiry body showing years of hard labor. I suspected her to be in her mid eighties. She had one thumb hooked in her pocket, while her other hand made gestures as she told a story of a young horse she was riding the rough off of that morning before she headed out to bale the rest of her hay left rowed in the field. Her knuckles were gnarled with short clipped nails, and her hands veiny.

But she was timelessly beautiful, and not in the false way that you so often see anymore; not your Hollywood glamorous bombshell. Nancy had never seen eyelash extensions, plastic surgery, Botox, and quite possibly never even a manicure or hair dye. I’d never met her before, but I’ve seen a few old cowgirls like her, and the one thing that struck me about each one was their peace of mind. Their life that had been so thoroughly and beautifully lived shown in every wrinkle and furrow on their face. Happiness, peace, heartache, and love. It was all there for the world to see; not one, not-so-glamorous ounce of it covered by makeup. Perhaps the most beautiful thing about women like Nancy is the grace with which they accept life as it comes, and not looking for ways to alter or hide themselves. The serenity that flows from within shows with such enveloping magnitude and confidence.

Nancy is everything I’d love to be remembered for in this life. Not what hairstyle I have, not the latest fashion trend, or coolest social media post, but rather a very real, authentic human being that had seen enough hardship to know back breaking work, enough loss to know to not take anything for granted, enough days in the sun to give way to facial character, enough courage to ride rank horses that make you appreciate the old reliables, and enough love to keep you from being jaded. I don’t want to conform to this thinking that I’m not enough just as I am, no matter my age or look or personality.

It’s clear that Nancy lives life on her terms, that no worldly views or man’s opinion mean diddly squat to her. She lives locally, works hard, and is content in that, and her faith, at the end of the day. She rests well at night and wakes with purpose each morning.

I don’t need, nor do I want, the world’s opinion or approval. I want to live so authentically true and honest, so that whether I die today, or fifty plus years from now, I left the world on my terms, happy, worn out, honestly and everlastingly beautiful. I know I’ve done damage to some, uplifted others, been both a blessing and a curse, but as life goes on, I want to make a wholesome effort to move forward in peace and forgiveness. In a place chalked full with fake and falsehoods, I want to be an everlasting Nancy, living life unapologetically, graciously and resplendently.

Cowgirl, Who Are You When the World Ain’t Lookin’?

Heather CountrymanLeave a comment

I will admit, I’m a people watcher. I find myself intrigued and wondering what makes up the character of a person. As women, we often feel threatened by what we perceive other women to be. We measure ourselves strongly against other’s physical appearance, by successes, by well-behaved children, by the cars we drive, by relationship statues, by friendships, and facebook posts. We constantly strive to measure up. And sadly, I catch myself doing the same. In that acknowledgement, I also realize that life is so often not what it seems. Every single one of us has a unique story, has scars, lives with fear, smiles through tears, or has a chapter in our life story we don’t read aloud. This realization levels the playing field.  We’re in this life together to help each other, inspire one another, cry with one another, and embrace our differences. 

So, that is where the following rambling came from, knowing we all have secret hopes and unfulfilled dreams. I challenge you to not compare your uniqueness to another, to look deeper than the surface of yourself and others, erase expectations and preconceived notions, and see the heart and soul of someone. Read between the lines. You may be surprised what you find you can relate to…

Cowgirl, who are you when the world ain’t looking begging you to be all it expects you to be? What are your hopes and dreams? What do you see when you look in the mirror? Are you happy with what you’ve come to be? Do you beat yourself up because you think you’ve failed? Do you like who you see? Are you still searching, longing to find your voice down deep inside? Are you happy, really truly happy and feel life is as it should be?

Are you looking for love? Are you married and struggling to reconnect? Do you still long to find your childhood love and ride off into a sunset? Are you missing someone? Their touch? Their smile? Their laugh? Do you ask if love will ever be? Do you have good friends? Or do prefer to just be?

Who are you, cowgirl, when this old world ain’t looking, waiting for you to make your next move? When it’s not asking you to be what you don’t want to be? Do you close the chapter on your book of life that hurts too much to read? Do you hate yourself for your mistakes? Do you wish you could just change everything? Anything? Just that one thing? Do you have regrets? Do you share unselfishly your gifts and talents with others, or tuck it away in safety away from the world’s harsh reality? Do you know who you really want to be? Do you rise up? Do you try again? Do let it all go? Do you let it be what it will be?

Are you hardened or closed because you’ve built walls to guard your heart? Do you cry for no reason at all? Are you sick? Are you tired? Are worried about it all?

Hey cowgirl, who are you when the world ain’t looking?

Do you dance in your underwear and sing in the rain? Do you drink wine straight from the bottle? Do you like your whiskey straight? Do you paint your nails red, bright, shiny red because it makes you feel pretty? Do you let your hair down, or cut it off because you just need a change?

Do you hike a thousand miles through the wilderness just to know your real heart?  Do you love whomever you want? Do you raise babies, and ride broncs? Do you work at your passion? Or just a job to get by?

Do trail cattle on the  calico prairies and sagebrush sea? Do you let that wild horse run? Do you let your lungs breathe the mountain air deep? Do you travel the world to see through new eyes? Do you put down roots and watch them grow? What is your story? Why?

Cowgirl, be who you want to be anytime, anywhere… Even if this world is watching, do just as you care.  Quit waiting, quit wondering. Just get out there and live, cause this one life ain’t waiting on you, so why are you waiting on it?

Happy Trails, Cowgirl~

Heather ©

Look Up

Heather Countryman4 Comments

“Pretty little thing, sometimes you gotta look up, and let this world see all the beauty that you’re made of, because the way you hang your head, nobody can tell, you’re my Virginia Bluebell.” ~Miranda Lambert

I’ve had so many dreams in my life. So many things I thought I would be by now. I’ve outgrown some of them, and some of them have outgrown me. And there are those I still long for to come true. And they will. I have faith.

The first time I saw thirteen year old Rachel Myllymaki run the barrels at a local rodeo, her yellow hair flying out under her hat and her horse on fire, I wanted to be a barrel racer… Some days I still want that.

I wanted to be an equestrian cross-country jumper the first time I watched it on the Olympics.  I borrowed my mom’s dressage saddle and jumped my pony over every log, ditch and downed tree I could find. Until the big girl dreams came along, but some days I still long to take that jump, too.

I wanted to be a female horse trainer and rancher and equine vet. Yes, all of them.  I wanted that big, blue sky ranch with horses as far as they eye could see. I still want that, too.

Nowadays, I find myself longing to help others through horsemanship and the wilderness and helping run the family business. I also want to write novels and short stories and take pictures of the beauty that graces me every day. And I will.

You see, sometimes we outgrow dreams, and sometimes they outgrow us. But they also follow along silently until something, or someone, reminds us that they’re still beating in our heart and soul, and they’re worth giving another thought.

I lost focus along the way. Life changed so fast and my priorities morphed over the years to accommodate choices I made. And it wasn’t bad.  But my dreams didn’t go away. I just forgot to look up. Worrying about failure, worrying about timing, worrying about finances, always worrying and always wondering. And then I finally asked myself why? What in the hell am I waiting for?

We all ask ourselves these questions when we set out on a personal endeavor. The importance of feeding our souls and feeding our dreams with good people, positive thinking, beautiful scenery, love and light, fuels the fire of wanting to accomplish something significant. When we’re passionate about pursuing life, it spills over to others.  It is the want that keeps us trying.

When dreams are written on our hearts with permanent ink, tattooed there, they may fade, but it’s our job to not let ourselves down.  

Don’t be hard on yourself. Take a moment to look back on where you’ve come from, from where all you’ve been. Revel in it. Marvel at it. Evaluate the heartache you’ve felt, but nurture your new found strength. And grow in it, and trust that you’ve got this and God has you.

Despite all you’ve been through, you’re still here. Even though the sun didn’t always shine, you still grew. You’re a mosaic of all the shattered pieces of your life, with the bits of dreams still there and the flicker of hope still burning.

It’s never too late to get your shit together. Because that’s the beginning of something good, something strong, and something that’s right for you. In that pit of anger, of sadness, of frustration… that’s your new beginning. And those tucked away dreams are your way out.

So, pretty little thing, don’t forget to look up, and show the world all the beauty that you’re made of.

Dream big. Dream forever. Live authentic and live true to yourself.

~Happy Trails

Heather

A Pace I Long to Keep

Heather Countryman3 Comments

wp-1470584727537.jpgThese past few summer months have been nothing short of crazy and chaotic between work and home life.  Some of you may know that I work for an electric and telecom company here on the hi-line of Montana, but what you don’t know is I am a credit representative.  That means I get the pleasure of disconnecting services for non-payment and am somehow the late bill and payment negotiater.  Let me just say right off, I am fairly sure this must be karma biting me square in both butt cheeks, because I have had my way a time or three with  a Dish Network or Verizon wireless customer service rep in the past.  Truly, what goes around comes around, but at the end of the day, I usually go home feeling like I’ve been hit by a freight train driven by a sixteen year old that was just given the keys for the first time.  And on my drive home nightly, I ask myself why? What lessons am I learning? How can I be a better person? And as I am beating myself over the head with all these thoughts and “lessons” I am learning in my job, my mind drifts to a simpler time.  A time when I didn’t have to think about much except what to make for dinner… A time I could watch my life unfold between my horse’s ears down a mountain trail at a pace I now find myself longing for…A pace I long to keep.

Between these ears my life unfolds at a pace I long to keep.

Every breath, every thought just makes more sense here.

My heart and mind are put at ease.

No phones are ringing, no device needs response

No man is whining about his selfish needs.

All the while the trail unfolds between my horse’s ears

At a pace I long to keep.

The hustle and bustle of life’s worries & strife

Become a distant sound muffled by my horses’ feet

As ol’ roany clips over God’s landscapes

And I watch my life unfold at a pace I long to keep.

Between these ears I see vistas grand and Big Sky true.

From towering mountain peaks to sagebrush coulee breaks

I think what more could this girl need?

As my horse travels freely along at a pace I long to keep.

You can keep your city life, your heels, dresses and fine wines.

As for me, I will don boots and jeans, while the wind teases my hair

And Roany and I will slow lope across the miles while life unfolds

At the only pace I long to keep.

In closing, be nice to the person on the other end of the phone; she’s just trying to do her job. Your life is a one time offer. Use it well. Love often, share a smile, be kind to one another, lend a hand. Remember what really is important to you in this life, and remember who you want to be. Ride high and stay grounded.

Happy Trails,

Heatherwp-1470584709555.jpg

Flawedless

Heather Countryman1 Comment

 

We live in a society that plays on and profits from our self doubt. We are who we are, and we suffer because we imagine we should be different. We imagine we should be a replica of a celebrity, a friend, or a flawless more perfect version of our own reflection. We hold our appearances to a high standard and place our value  and self worth on our outward appearances instead of valuing and nurturing and loving the inward. We pin pictures, save hairstyles, read tips, buy products all for the sake of improvement.

Starve those thoughts. Believe that whatever flaws you think you may have are your own brand, your own version of perfect. Give up being the judge.  It’s not your job.  Because when we give up judgement of ourselves, we give up the fear of being judged by others.  There is nothing wrong with being better or doing better or wanting better.  There is nothing wrong with striving to be the best.

But guess what? You are meant to be a square peg in a round hole. Imperfection is perfection, and is in fact beautiful to the right one. You are meant to not have all the answers; but you are destined for greatness, regardless.  Believe in you. Just. As. You. Are. And that’s when you, yes you, become rich in the things that really matter.  You are good enough. You are strong enough. You are smart enough.  Girl, you are flawedless. You’re meant to be. Go out and own that shit.

 

Happy Trails~

 

Heather

Wild Once

Heather CountrymanLeave a comment

“Love her, but leave her wild.” ~Atticus

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You’re just some wild thing, with a faraway look in your eyes. The memories of freedom seep back into the unsealed cracks of your buried heart. No one can tell you, no one can really see, what goes on in there, the heart between the one you were, and the one you’re yet to be. It’s a sagebrush sea of haze and blue, to navigate all alone. The place where you crave the shelter, yet seek the crazy storm. The flame and longing in your eyes fuels the fire in man, and everything he loved and admired about you, the wild look, the catch me if you can, the youthful beauty, has become something he unknowingly tries to tame. You learn to give, you learn to bend, but your heart always runs, it runs with the calico pony off into the sun. Those wild winds, they always call, they speak straight to the core of your soul. Stay true to that wild, and stay true to that free. Remember this world can’t break you, it can’t change what you’re really meant to be… Because deep down, you and me, we are always meant to be wild and we are always meant to be free.

Turn Out the Old Broodmare

Heather Countryman4 Comments

I’ve recently decided that I am fast approaching what I call “broodmare” status.  Nothing center-drives that harsh fact home faster than having a beautiful & elegant seventeen year old daughter. (And possibly the sway back, crabby attitude, and hay belly that is starting to appear) And as much as I tell myself I don’t mind getting older, that age is only a number, I still seem to gracelessly accept this fact. But {hay}, I am also discovering there just may be some benefits to being the old broodmare…Here’s why:

  • Fillies are oggled over for their looks.  Ya know, nice straight legs, well-muscled & proportioned, a “v’d up chest”, strong hindquarters, and a pretty face to boot. Broodmares? Na. They’re just used-to-bes. Sway backs, gray hairs, and broom-tailed crabs, but she sure “has some nice-lookin’ babies”.
  • Somebody eventually tries to find the appropriate suitor, aka stud, for the filly; therefore, she always has to look and act her best.  The old girls don’t much care anymore, because the studs lookin’ their way ain’t much to talk over the darn fence about.
  • Young fillies have to prove themselves to be hard workers, reliable and dare I say? Unemotional? The first sign of PMS and attitude gets her labeled and probably reprimanded. Broodmares make darn sure everyone is well aware of their emotional status from the get go.  They don’t mince words, and you ain’t gonna get much outta them if you talk smart about it.
  • In order for the young girl to keep in shape, you have to feed her right and exercise her frequently.  After the old girl has foaled a couple of “keepers” you can pretty much bet that unless her teeth are bad, she can sustain on a rocky pasture with no grass or special needs, so she probably saves ya a little cash.  Basically, she’s less maintenance, and you better just lover her that way.
  • You have to teach the young filly EVERYTHING. You know gain her trust, teach her slow, let her make mistakes. Broodmares already know EVERYTHING. Even when you think they don’t. Don’t ever make the mistake of trying to tell ’em different. They didn’t make it this far by being stupid.
  • Youngsters think they have to be friends with the boys, and compete with the other fillies.  Old broads know where they stand with each other and learn to rely on their herd mates because they help get ’em through the cold months.

To sum ‘er up, I suppose aging ain’t all that bad.  With age comes a little wisdom, and a lot of life lived.  Old broodmare status is well-earned and well-deserved, so go ahead and turn me out in that pasture. And don’t worry young filly, you’ll be finishing that race faster than you ever dreamed!

Happy Trails~

Heather