This is for the cowboy and cowgirl in all of us…
The cubicle cowgirl… I have become her. Somehow, my new life has shaped and molded me into a wannabe professional wearing dress slacks in place of faded jeans, peep toe shoes take the place of muddy, worn boots, and my favorite cowboy hat hangs on my wall instead of my head. Now I answer phones and sell internet service for a communications company. I answer the phone from 8-5 in my most friendly voice. Instead of gathering frost-back horses in the crisp, morning air, I tolerate being cussed at (karma may be turning the tables on me) for product failures and bill mishaps. I sit and stare endlessly at a computer within 6 foot padded cubicle walls. Gone are the mountain trails and pine scent summers I loved. Some days I can’t find the room to breathe, and my heart feels heavy; my shoulders carry the weight of the world. My saving grace is the laughter with my co-workers and friends I have made, and the breath of fresh air on my fifteen minute outdoor break. The satisfaction of a hard day’s work outdoors clearing trails and hosting guests on horseback are faded memories, as I strive to find the deeper purpose of my new and improved life I’ve chosen. This is the hardest job I have ever had, being something I’m necessarily not.
You see, cubicle dwellers, company CEO’s, doctors, contractors, they all used to tell me how lucky I was to live in the mountains. I knew it. I felt it. Strongly. I never thought I took my life growing up horseback in the mountains for granted. Ever. The feeling of luck and love settled peacefully throughout me, and I let it seep into every fiber of my soul. But the pull of real life had me feeling I somehow wasn’t doing all I should financially for my family. I used to listen to guests tell me how lucky I was to not hear the sound of traffic and sirens, that my closest neighbor was miles away, that my children were growing up understanding the important ethical things in life; they were unplugged from devices and tuned into their surroundings. They used to tell me how lucky I was to have my parents and family around every day. (There were days I begged to differ on that subject …haha). I knew all of these things.
But now, the tables have turned. I find myself thinking they are the lucky ones. They are the people that were cut out to work in cubicles and high rises and hospitals. That is the life they know and love. They are programmed and hard-wired for the busy life. They never expected to see a bald eagle soaring in the sky above, or hear the call of a bugling bull, or see new life come to pass on the ranch in the form of calves and foals. They didn’t expect to look out a window and see mountain peaks or clear mountain streams. They never knew the love of riding a horse full tilt across a meadow with the wind urging you to pull your hat down tight. They didn’t see the hush of the land with the setting sun, or the dawn of a new day glancing off the dew in the meadow. They feel content, while I feel restless.
The perks of being a cubicle cowgirl with a little financial freedom and comforts are nice, but it doesn’t hold a candle to being the real thing. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful or condescending, but I sure hope that trail comes back around soon…