There is a certain beauty in that first cup of coffee. A sense of possibility in the silky brown liquid as it slides down my throat (heavily saturated with French vanilla creamer of course). A sense of freedom as the steam reaches my nose and washes over my face.
I need this in the morning. Before I step into the weather and march to the barn in my sparkly paddock mud boots, I need a little freedom and a little possibility. Before I become inundated by hungry, happy nickers that lead to soft and comforting munching – before my mind only moves in routines of feeding, turnout, cleaning – before my neurotic tendencies kick in and I worry about everything from fencing to footing to weather – I need those ten minutes of sipping a cup of caffeinated dreams.
In those ten minutes, I plan out my day. All of my horses go out to their designated pastures and are content with their buddy, instead of giving in to their strong sense of wanderlust and checking out the adjacent pastures and attempting to make new friends. Cleaning stalls goes smoothly and quickly when I have the radio tuned to the country station and can dance around to Jason Aldean. After stalls, I’ll check on the horses on my way in to grab some more coffee and maybe a little breakfast. In a perfect world, that’s when I pull out my laptop and start to pour those robust, half formed dreams into the confines of a page.
We could all benefit from a little freedom and possibility, couldn’t we?