When trying to heal…how can you make a difference for yourself when your mind is so fully and beautifully designed to protect….dissociation….depersonalization….to some people those are words…some they are overcome obstacles…to some it is all they know and may not overcome….

I don’t believe we choose defeat…
In a way I think we can….

but in another way I think we all do the very best we know how and sometimes that just is all we can do….
and sometimes it is not as well as others and I mean sometimes we have things that may defeat us no matter how hard we try.


It happened after the war.
Post war.
hypervigilence, nightmares, fear, sounds, smells, crawling on the ground.

It happened after a part of me died, almost all of me could have died.
They call it trauma.
Childhood robbed, betrayal, shame, unworthiness.

It happened when my bones were smooshed under a weight I could not carry.
They call it a stress fracture…stress is all a heavy weight.
Carrying your secrets, lies, venom

It happened after many other moments became full of disarray.
Calling is disorder is the only way
to put a box around something that spins you around, hurls you to the ground, taps you on the shoulder to slap you in the face.


Veterans, Childhood abuse survivors, victims of car crashes or witnesses of terror attacks
It is is prevalent and running rampant.

We all have our own wars to live through.

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is what we process through.

Maybe as we learn to live with it. Separate it out from the normalizes of life.

What goes into battle is a warrior. And no matter what exits the battle……happens during the battle…a warrior still exists.

And as we warrior our way through these corridors of unknown physical and mental and psychological fears may we understand PTSD can become a teacher bringing us deeper to who we are perhaps it was change. We may find a new name.

Something like Permanent Transformation Standing Devoted.

The Hard Knocks

“It’s a hard knock life.” Annie

Above is the link if you want to hear the song haha.

I admire Annie for the courage to sing about a hard knock life…most people don’t even have the energy to sing about it they basically grumble it. I don’t think school prepares you for the hard knocks of life…at least not the school work all the time…sometimes the people. But I am not sure we are ever really prepared for the hard knocks. It is hard…to try and be prepared for things that pop up or situations we don’t know how to deal with.

I believe this is why it is called the hard knocks…because they are uninvited knocks that open the door themselves without invitation and literally can knock the wind out of us.

How do we get up? And if we can do we get up?


This is a new look for my blog and name because everyday…I wake up and I consider that a start to healing. To choose to wake up everyday….no matter how bad life feels, how physically awful you are doing…how entirely frustrated you are…..I choose to wake up and I feel that is simply the first step. I have a lot of expectations in life…Things I want to see get done…accomplished….but mostly I have a lot of need for healing and love.

I have been afraid of the quiet moments.

I have relished in being busy and kept a hold on my anger.

I have hated so much about myself and life that it makes me feel apologetic to those around me.

I am hoping to carve new indents.

It starts for me every day by choosing to wake up.

Everyday. Just open my eyes.

My Desire

I desire practicality and simplicity right now.

I yearn for low stress days and a moment of love to seep in and cause warmth to grow deep through me.

I am slowing down, I think. Confusion is such a common moment with me. A protection.

I want what anyone want. Sustainability, stability, comfort, grace, and safety.

I desire self-acceptance, intimacy with moments and nature and belief.

I desire…desire.
Yes I desire to have the ability to desire more….to trust in desires, to allow desires to live in me.

I desire relationship with others.

I desire everyday…a little more gain.

Horse Love


My life.

Falling in love with a horse is such a blessing.

They wrap their heads around you as your arms wrap around their necks. They have spots they like pet or scratched like a puppy.

They run wild with their flowing manes in the golden sunrise of a pasture.

Hay bales are perfect places to hide and cry with a soft horse muzzle nearby.

Horses keep your secrets.
They test your limits.
They teach you trust, they teach you to protect yourself.
They teach you how to be vulnerable.
They know things we don’t…feel things we feel….want things we want….

respect, honor, understanding, grace, love, kindness, power, success, relaxation, trust, equality, understanding, attention, to be accepted,

but most of all relationship.

This is why horse love is such a constant, consuming, heartbreaking, joyous journey.

This is why it has its own language.


I work at a breeding farm right now and one of the Guatemalan boys is what my boss would say, “smitten” with me. Well, I believe that is easily done considering his circumstances of working on a farm with only two young girls and the rest horses and men…he does not have much exposure as he also works 7 days a week.

I find it funny, he is not creepy about it he is a chunk of years younger and inches smaller so it is almost like a friends younger brother could be.

I have learned a lot from all the Guatemalan boys who work there the past two weeks. And here is my speculation in story form on myself, beauty, and how humans respond.

Sometimes I hear or see them when I am walking through a perpendicular aisle and I know they don’t know I am around. They laugh together and work side by side helping each other. I saw two of them kind of wrestling each other around the dog while they were walking out to bring in the mares. They caught me laughing at them that time. But I was appreciating their camaraderie. All day it is mainly me and the horses which I love don’t get me wrong but it is hard when I need people around as well. Only one of the boys is fluent in English and the one who is smitten is learning. We do a lot of gesturing and guessing and sometimes waving each other off, and I initiate high fives when we understand each other.

I think all this is somehow a definition of beauty. Trying to understand each other. Appreciating differences.

But here is what got me thinking what beauty do we appreciate more? Or most? Because today..Hulio is his name…he said Raechel (in a heavy accent hard to understand R), you are beautiful.” We were walking back from feeding grain to the stallions.

I had been sent home earlier by my boss who is out of town and he called to see how everything is going. When I answered I sounded very manly and he told me I sounded awful and needed to go home and come back to feed.

Basically beauty isn’t my priority right now, I went back to the barn in my shorts hoodie and boots to feed. I don’t like people telling me I am beautiful, I have even written poems about how uncomfortable it makes me feel or how much it ticks me off. I told Hulio to stop it. He asked, No, you no think you are beautiful.” I don’t know how to tell I just don’t want to hear it. That we work together and to be appropriate. SO I shook my head no and just walked fast to put stuff away.

Later I stopped to think because I just lectured a friend to enjoy that someone liked her.

SO I am sitting here thinking….shouldn’t I just enjoy the compliment that was given. And maybe its not just that he saw my legs today (laughter inserted-hahah) but maybe it is more than just looks that makes us beautiful even to people who don’t really know us. Maybe I could think I am beautiful even for one moment. TO observe myself as someone else might through the day.

What really solidified this thought is another person this week told me I must work with horses because I am all the things I love about them…powerful, strong, untamed, sensitive, feisty, strong willed…and yes beautiful.

So for a moment today I saw myself hugging the yearlings and kissing on them…teaching them how not to shy away from things. Talking to them and grooming them. I stepped aside for a moment and saw my eagerness to learn Spanish and understand the culture of the new job…taking pictures of the horses and landscapes sitting on hay at lunch feeling the wind….singing to myself in the feed room and working alongside these boys when I am done working horses. And I thought if I did not know me…know my story know where I had been. I would think I am beautiful.

And if I did know everything I would still think I am beautiful and I wonder how it is that while I write this post I can still be such a rude stranger to myself.

It makes me uncomfortable to post this…feels meaningless…yet it is important because aren’t we all beautiful in some way? In every way? I think people I barely know are beautiful inside and out sometimes immediately. Some people just have a way about them.

Current Groove

1. we have well-defined grooves in our brain that take us down the same patterns deeper and deeper ad deeper.
2. sometimes we have to laugh.
3. a saying a made up at work while sitting on hay in the barn “For the humans that love those of us that spend 95% of our time with horses……..Please forgive us when we reach to get an eye booger from your eye without telling you….we forget you have fingers….please don’t think we are gross when we wipe it on our jeans, sometimes we may make you uncomfortable when we offer you a slice of our apple by putting our hand by your mouth, it may seem strange if we hear you toot and say, “Glad your digestion is working,” ..and we know you may get sick of how often we cluck at you when we are ready to walk or drive somewhere. There are so many things we do because it is second nature and a part of a deep love. So human friends instead of being embarrassed or offended know we must do this to you because somewhere inside we must love you almost as much as our horses. And if you don’t know how much that is we can guarantee it is more than your other friends who have never been blessed with the opportunity to love a horse.”
4. what is nothing?
5. i smell like vicks vapor rub..i am very sick
6. cant sleep because i keep coughing and have to go to work tomorrow.
7. I like problems I know will disappear
8. i am not disappearing
9. i can do this.
10. i have 13 children (baby horses) i see everyday and work with.
11. learning a little spanish here in the midwest
12. boys are funny
13. boys are also stupid
14. I two famous boyfriends
15. my famous boyfriends only like me because i feed them
16. i am being lame and calling the two stallions i spend all my time with my boyfriends.
17. i told a boy who asked me if i had a boyfriend that i have two and i actually thought i was funny
18. i am too lazy to captilize letters right now or check spelling
19. i noticed most of my sentences are starting with i
20. eaten a lot of fast food
would love to run but im too sick to
22. forgot to number the above one
23. if you are reading this still i feel sorry for you too :) haha


I think as life changes us our definition of an adventure changes too. I have often been known by my friends as a big dreamer…as someone who sets their sights high. And I have lived adventurously from time to time. I have moved to different states and taken random jobs on a whim. I have traveled to Israel with four other girls my age…jumped out of an airplane….introduced myself to strangers and made best friends, won a longest tongue contest at a retreat in front of hundreds of people, jumped horses over high fences….pursued New York City go-sees for acting and modeling, made friends with a casting director….shared my life story in front of a floor of girls in college.

I have done a lot, I know a lot of people, I have read a lot of books, I have written and dreamed and ran, and then…reality came crashing in and I started to wane…struggle…wonder why I am alive…what is life…hate the existential yet understand its familiarity…I think definitions change as we lose grip of who we are and try to find out if we really are going to stay strong..stay real..stay ALIVE.

Do we choose life? Or does it choose us?

Some people crave to see the world ….I am among them.
Other cultures fascinate me and I revel in the limitless possibilities to learn…yet somewhere these things that kept me yearning moving…lost a bit of their allure.

Now I long for the adventure of simplicity. Perhaps its what running does to us. I would like to stop running.

I really would.

Quiet….unbidden…yet welcomed would be acceptable as an adventure. I crave days that flow into each other not robotically but fluidly. Where I wake up and eat breakfast…and feel…feel the taste of my fruit and the feel of the wooden chair beneath me…where I hurry out the door not to be late and once I am at work to leisurely go from one task to the other until something disrupts routine or I am challenged to learn something new and where I focus on where I am yet know I am dealing with what is currently my struggle. I want days with errands and chores to be done and others with visiting and catching up with friends. I long for moments where I can sit and be kinder to myself.

Where it actually makes an impact and I see myself growing old with well earned wrinkles. Simplicity of hard everyday…beautiful life is the adventure I want to seek next. Where perfection is just a word to describe the sunset and not a prison. I long to fit into solidity of myself and containment of fear. I desire the freedom to be myself and untamed and I long to believe truly I am worth this. I can relax slow down, feel the wind, feel pain, feel joy, feel…feel…feel. an not intellectualize all of these things but let the truth course through me and make a difference within. The truth of the unknown….yet known.