goat mind

Something has changed.

I’ve caged the squirrels, quieted my monkey mind and let disorder take over. My life has become rumple, untidy, messy. I have become, a Goat.

I was a hyper organized person. I was the person you called to create a schedule for your move, or coordinate a big event, the person you call when your closet is overflowing, your paperwork is out of control, your life needs to be more orderly. I could do that. But something happened and now I’m late all the time, I don’t know where anything is, if I don’t write it down it disappears and half the time I can’t find where I wrote what I needed to remember.

I’m blaming it on peri-menopause just because everyone else is. But, it just may be my newest gift, a journey from hypervigilance to total chaos to bliss.

I attended a conference on humane education at Green Chimney’s School and Farm Sanctuary recently. I knew about it for months but didn’t get around to signing up till the week it was scheduled to start and I missed the early bird discount. If I hadn’t been late in signing up, my name would’ve been on the contact list and I wouldn’t have had to talk to the volunteer at the registry table. But I was late, so we needed to talk.

She was envious of my single blue curl. If I hadn’t dyed a single curl blue, we wouldn’t have started chatting about the restrictions of our work lives. But I’d curled up & dyed, and so we talked a little bit more.

Everyone at the conference worked in education, rehabilitation or animal welfare; they had titles before their names and letters after their names. If I hadn’t been so used to being the outsider, if I’d thought about that part at all, I never would’ve had the nerve to show up. But I didn’t think, I just showed up.

If I was organized I would’ve missed an opportunity. If I was fearful or even thoughtful, I would’ve stayed home and lost this chance. If I was willing to go gently into this good night I wouldn’t be looking forward to mucking out sheep stalls, grooming goats, feeding chickens.

I start this Friday. It may not sound like much to anyone else, but I’m like a kid who hears the ice cream truck coming around the corner. You know, when you can’t see the truck yet, but you hear the bells and the song and you know. You know it’s coming and your insides are like to damn near explode with the anticipation. It’s the same. Except my ice cream truck’s got four legs, cloven hooves & horns.