Once a free horse, a wild spirit allowed herself to become restricted by bit, bridle, reins and saddle. Weary of repeatedly being kicked in the ribs, she unwittingly finds herself constrained by a harness and plow. The whip stings. The load she carries is heavy. The reward for her efforts is being imprisoned in a stall, eating dry hay instead of the sweet, green grass of her youth. The sun rises and the plow horse resumes her endless burden. She longs for nothing more than to regain her freedom to jump tall fences and run like the wind.
If you have heard the phrase, “turning a thoroughbred into a plow horse,” that is what I feel I have become. The original thinking and creativity that defined me and made me good at what I do has been slowly stripped away. I have become nothing more than an extension of a computer, expected to perform miracles in a soul-crushing environment for the benefit of others.
“If you don’t build your own dream, someone will hire you to help build theirs.” A little tidbit I read recently, attributed to motivational speaker and author Tony A. Gaskins, Jr.
“Self Love. It doesn’t mean that everyone will treat you the way you deserve to be treated. It means that you won't let them change the way you see yourself; nor will you stick around for them to destroy you.” Thanks, Tony, I needed to read that. Right at this moment, I needed to read those very words.
I allowed myself to believe my worth had been downgraded because I permitted myself to be turned into a plow horse with no voice and many “masters” with conflicting orders. I have worked my ass off only to realize I have deprived myself of my own dreams and desires, thankful for the meager and dry hay, while forgetting the taste of sweet freedom. It became acceptable for me to believe I did not deserve to have an opinion, autonomy in my work, or a brilliant mind. No one wants to work or live that way. The freedom of expression and creativity I once richly enjoyed all but disappeared through the monotony of trying to earn an honest living in what has become the distorted American Way. Work hard and you will be rewarded seems to no longer apply in many traditional 8-5 environments.
So what’s a girl to do?
Okay, I admit I am no longer a girl. I’m more like an old horse that doesn’t want to be turned into glue when it is no longer able to carry the load.
“The old gray mare ain’t what she used to be, many long years ago…”
I am not a HORSE; not a thoroughbred, nor a plow horse. I am nothing short of a magical unicorn! I am a boundless creative spirit, bursting with divine presence while dancing on glittery rainbows. I allowed myself to forget who I am while being seduced by the trappings of society’s expectations.
It is time to remember who I am. Time to stop being obliterated by people and situations not supportive of my genuine essence. For when I am free, I may give sustenance to others with my magical unicorn dust.
Hop on a rainbow with me. Let’s go!