Lisa Slater's Blog: -Author of 'Chancing Hope'

Its been a tough winter. I suppose winters usually are.Snow traps people in their homes, or worse, on the roads. Trees break and splinter. Mud and debris roll down the hills. Water floods though homes and businesses. Wind rips both dead and living things from their clutches and screeches angrily in the night.Like the cold and blustery weather of winter, difficulties and tribulations can seem to pour down in torrents, roaring through the streets of hearts like raging rapids. When problems continue surging in, they begin to stack up against the mind like drifts of snow. They block and inhibit, making people feel trapped. Stuck. There’s just so much that could go wrong. Often, we try to tip toe through — fingers crossed — prayers said — trying to not wake or disturb the difficulties where they slumber in the trees, barely dangling, like a drip collected on a facet.Sometimes tip toeing works. Sometimes it doesn’t.Quietly and without warning, a single drop of difficulty falls. Despite its silent floating decent, it hits the earth with force, and shakes the tree. Other drips hit. They hit our home, our health, our dwindling savings account. We gnaw at our own nerves until they bleed. As the quandaries rage on, all we can do is buckle down and try to catch the drips with strategically positioned buckets.Ask friends for more buckets. Trade buckets. Take turns holding the buckets. Whatever it takes. Have you noticed, lately, there has not been enough buckets to go around? There’s a bucket shortage, it seems — and a surplus of drips.Having painted this delightful picture, one might understand why I was tempted to become angry this morning at the discovery of yet another drip. I determined, if everyone had a bowl to place over their heads, to block the downpour of trouble, I’m pretty sure mine would be a strainer. But as I look around, I realize many people’s bowls are strainers. When does too much become too much? Its frustrating, to say the least. Its during times like this I find, it’s extremely tempting to feel victimized.However, often times, allowing ourselves to feel victimized triggers an instinct to hit our knees and drop our hands down to our sides, fingers dragging in the mud. Defeated. This impulse allows the host of victimization to rest. The act of giving up numbs the oppressed mind and modifies the injured senses. In a way, its reassuring. Only, its not. It’s a lie.THINGS THAT WE ARE:•Human.•Living in a world that has always been full of trial, and always will be.•Struggling.•Heartbroken.•Tired.THINGS THAT WE ARE NOT:•DefeatedFeeling victimized is generated by circumstance. However, neither victim nor circumstance has to be a definer. We are not prisoners of our circumstance. We are prisoners only of our disposition."I have learned from experienced that the greater part of our happiness or misery depends on our dispositions and not on our circumstances.” -Martha WashingtonI see the struggles people are facing. I see yours. I experience mine. The advice I have to offer is the same advice I need to take. Take action. Lift battered knees off the ground. Wipe off the mud. Work on not just the circumstance, but also — and maybe more importantly — work on your nature and disposition. Your outlook."Take action. You can either be a passive victim of circumstance or you can be the active hero of you own life. Action is the antidote to apathy and cynicism and despair. You will inevitably make mistakes but at the end of your days, you will be remembered for your gallop, not for your stumble.” -Bradley WhitfordI understand there are levels of difficult circumstances and taking the above advice is not easy. I have a friend who just recently told me that she had lost her young children in an accident, thirty years ago now. It hit me like a sledgehammer of sadness. Can you believe, she reached out and comforted me?! She told me it was alright. She knew her beautiful children were safe, and loved, where they were.Faced with even the most difficult circumstance, my friend found a way to take action. It had to have been the hardest thing she had ever done. But she did. Her gentle nature and strong disposition changed her outlook, and I get to share her story with you because she didn’t give up.Take Action.And so, I check my anger this morning. I lean heavily on the good and playful-hearted nature inside of me to change my attitude and my outlook. After all, the dryer quitting, the floods corroding my driveway, a leaky roof, and a dead calf is not the end. I am very blessed. This I know."The great master key to riches is nothing more or less than the self-discipline necessary to help you take full and complete possession of your own mind. Remember, it is profoundly significant that the only thing over which you have complete control is your own mental attitude.” -Napoleon HillMay your buckets be numerous and your drips be few.

Since the beginning of time, people have had dreams and goals. Some people have achieved their dreams or goals. We are able to list them because there are fewer of them than “us”, and we are able to quote them because we have come to admire them for their victories. We pump our fists in the air, cheering them on to live the dream – our dream. Wait. Our dream.I have a dream. I even have goals. You know what? I bet you do to. Why not pump our fists in the air and cheer on those? Many people truly believe for some achievement is possible, while for others, it’s not. I don’t believe that. I don’t buy it. I won’t sell it. Sure, achievement is hard to reach. What kind of achievement would it really be if it weren’t? I make my bed every morning. Ching! Achievement. But… making my bed isn’t necessarily a hard to reach achievement, so I don’t brag about it much - usually. It’s a given, some achievements are harder to reach than others. But unachievable? Nah.This is true, however, there has to be willingness to put out what it takes in order to reach said goal. If you’re not willing to make certain sacrifices, that’s alright. There are countless admirable reasons a particular achievement may not be a right fit for you. But it doesn’t have to dead end there. Follow a different version of the same dream, or find a new dream you hadn’t given thought or credit to before.My dreams have stayed relatively the same over the years, but I’ve taken different pathways, different levels of commitment, and different ways of approach. It felt like I was choking on cheerios much of the time, but looking back, I don’t regret a single thing. Why? Because I found my way to where I am now. Where I am now is on a solid path of achieving my unachievable, in both of my passions, writing and horseback riding. (Try telling someone what you do when its “riding” and “writing”. Yeah, they always look at me like, “huh?”.)Finding your path will be unique and un-identical to any others. Resist the impulse to compare. Easier said than done, I know. But it’s the first important step. The second important step is, don’t put too much stock in everyone’s opinions. You know what they say about how everyone has one…Getting on with it. What am I proposing that could help you achieve the unachievable?The following, Advice Worth Adopting, are general, but powerful, tools. Let’s dive in.ADVICE WORTH ADOPTING – For achieving the unachievableWage a war on negativityIn a world where negativity has become a common idol, I urge you to escape its constraints.An idol, you ask? How can negativity be an idol? Very easily. I implore you, start paying detailed attention to decisions you’ve made in the past, decisions you make on a daily basis, even decisions people make around you.A great majority of the time we are able to talk ourselves out of doing something, or following through on an idea, this is due to the overwhelming supremacy we give to our negative thoughts, or negative estimations pushed on us by others. We unintentionally, and mistakenly, worship the negative.According to Dr. Rick Hansen, Ph.D., founder of the Wellspring Institute for Neuroscience and Contemplative Wisdom, “our almond-shaped brain structure called the amygdala, uses two-thirds of its neurons to look for bad news”. It’s not weird. You’re not weird. It’s our natural partiality to surviving perils. Our natural biases have a difficult time differentiating between real danger, and perceived risks. Yet, they are all detected, and though we experience them on different levels, we experience them, for better or for worse. Therefore, even perceived risks influence our decisions.It is time to wage a war on negativity. Begin catching negativity in the act of being negative, then:1. Acknowledge the circumstance, the elements of concern.2. Validate. Yes, “bad news” is being detected.3. Distinguish. Is it a valid threat, or a phantom fear?4. Escape the constraints. Find, even the smallest, positive thought and run with it, keep adding to it, building on it. Allow yourself to be free of the shackles of your mind and start believing. Nominate one person who is invested in you and recruit them onto your team of believing in you. Once you start believing, your team will grow. People believe in people who believe in themselves. Along with natural survival tendencies, we also have the ability to debate and reason. Which brings me to my next piece of advice worth adopting. Play the devil’s advocateMy husband and I have been watching the series “West Wing” recently. The character, President Bartlett, requires his staff to argue his point against him, so he is mentally and physically organized and equipped to defend and secure his point or objective when he is bombarded by questions and analysis’.When in doubt about how prepared you are for starting out on your goals, argue against yourself. Test yourself. Search for your weak spots. All of this with the intention of creating a plan to fill those holes, if need be.This will leave no doubt in your mind that your primed, practiced, and ready to begin. You’ll also blow people out of the water when they attempt to give unwanted negative criticism. Most of the time, they don’t have it in mind to sabotage you. In their mind, they are helping you by going over the cautionary check points. It just comes off wrong. It comes off as a lack of faith; something you don’t need when you’re still building faith in yourself. (Keep this in mind when you are approached by someone else’s plan or goal, and they’re sitting there waiting on your response.) Balance the weights of knowledgeAcquiring knowledge is necessary. The more knowledge you acquire, the bigger your personal data base will be, enabling you to do a better job and make more educated decisions today than you did yesterday. The cost of keeping an open mind to learning is, you must take each piece of knowledge as it comes to you, weight it, and determine if you a) keep it, b) politely set it to the side in a “maybe it’ll come in handy later” pile, or c) toss it.My mother always told me, “You can learn something from everyone.” I have used this as my mantra ever since. I can patiently listen to a person I don’t particularly care for, talk about things I don’t particularly agree with, because I know, I can walk away from this conversation having learned at least one new thing. Even if that thing is, how not to do something.More recently, I’ve been learning competitive cutting (a working-ranch related game, using a horse to cut a cow from the herd and subsequently being judged by how well you and your horse executed the maneuver). I’ve been training under a very reputable and respected man by the name of Carey Cathey. True to my mother’s early advice, I listen, and then try, every single thing Carey says to do. One day, I left feeling unusually frustrated, my progress having slid backwards. This is when my husband said, “Obviously, keep listening to what he tells you, but at the end of the day remember, he’s throwing a lot of information at you. Some of it applies, and some of it doesn’t. Your job is to take what you need.”Wham! My husband is right. (Don’t tell him. He likes being able to tell the guys how mistreated he is. It’s some sort of bro-code thing. Nonetheless, his advice was right on.) When you’re weighing the information as it comes in, resolve to keep it in balance with the unique path you are traveling on.I struggled during my training ride because I put too much weight on “learning”, and left to little weight on “things I already know about myself”. Putting on blinders, I implemented an application that didn’t need to implemented, nor should it have been, at the time. And I didn’t have to. It wasn’t an order. It was my choice. It was offered information, to be taken, or left. “When we struggle for the wrong reasons, we suffer. But when we choose our own struggles, they become meaningful.” -Prakhar VermaConsult your mistakes. Don’t resign to them.Making mistake is where negativity comes back into play. Even if we have bravely defeated negativity in the beginning and got started despite of it, at the first - or maybe the second - mistake, it comes whooshing back. “I’m home!” Negativity calls, right there, in the back of your mind. “You don’t object to me putting my feet up, do you?”It’s time to reacquaint yourself with “Waging a War on Negativity”.Acknowledge that you have made a mistake. Yep, did that.Validate your feelings; your neurons are detecting “bad news”. Okay.Distinguish, is this mistake a threat? Will it, or did it, cause me to physically backslide further away from my goal? Or is it a phantom fear that it could cause me to backslide further away from my goal? Either way you answer, it’s not time to quit. It’s time to reevaluate. How can you fix the mistake, turn your nemesis into your superpower?My husband is a bowler (The game where you throw a bowling ball down a long wooden lane with such technique you can consistently cause all ten pins to fall). He used to leave a lot of ten pins on the lane. Because he is right handed, the ten pin is the most challenging pin to pick up. But since he left a lot of them, he also got a lot of practice at picking them up. Eventually, he turned his nemesis ten pin into his superpower. He rarely ever misses.“Your best teacher is your last mistake.” -Ralph NaderEscape the constraints. Escaping the constraints of negativity starts with your reevaluation of how to fix said mistake. Commit to improving. When you focus on this commitment, rather than quitting out of fear, you have created your own positive. You are now free to reach, to stretch, to amaze yourself.“You can only go forward by making mistakes.” -Alexander McQueenReduce. Reserve. Row.A sequence I borrowed from Reduce, Reuse, Recycle. I’ve reshaped this catchy cadence to befit our topic, which is, revamping your daily schedule to correspond with your dream or goal. If your serious about achieving the unachievable, you have to get serious about every detail, starting with your schedule.Your schedule doesn’t lie. It points to what you are most focused on like a twelve-foot florescent arrow on a dark night. Blink. Blink. This is what you spend your time on.“We all have 24 hours in a day. Nothing differentiates there. What changes is how people choose to spend that 24 hours.” -Reece Robertson, How to Create Your Ideal FutureReece Robertson also wrote about the British rowing team in his article, One Decision that Removes 1,000 Later Decisions. The British rowing team had been struggling for years. At the 2000 Sydney Olympic Games that changed. Actually, it happened well before they arrived at the Games. The change began happening, behind the scenes, when the entire team became dead-focused on one single thing. One single question. Will it make the boat go faster? As a result, their performance soared, and they took home the gold.Down the left side of a sheet of paper, write down your current schedule, from when you throw back your covers to when you crawl back inside of them. On the right side of the sheet of paper, write down your ideal day, one pointed towards your dream or goal. Compare the two sides and ascertain how you can start a revolution, a transformation, starting right there in your schedule.Feeling lucky? Take it an extra step. Account for every minute. I found my left side (my current schedule) only accounted for 23 hours, where my right side (my ideal schedule) accounted for all 24. It was mind blowing! I found an entire extra hour!Here’s the tips for transforming your schedule:REDUCE the waste from your schedule. The wasted time. The bad habits. Even the well-intended habits that don’t point you toward your goals.“The fastest way to move forward in life is not doing more. It starts with stopping the behaviors holding you back.” -Benjamin P. HardyRESERVE your time for things that “make your boat go faster”.Now, ROW!

They call keto the new diet fad.Keto is short for Ketogenic. Ketosis is a natural metabolic process when the body turns from burning glucose, because of insufficient amounts of glucose in the body, and burns stored fats instead. In my opinion, labeling it a diet fad, or classifying it as a diet at all, couldn’t be further from the truth.As I explained to my family, Keto is a lifestyle. A psychological choice. No different than deciding to wear a helmet when riding your bike. Popular, or not, your lifestyle includes safety, and/or good role modeling.But… I’m not writing to try to gain support for Keto. There is plenty of research and studies out there should a person decide to go check it out. I’m writing in support of living a healthy lifestyle. For me, it just happens to be in the form of Keto.Believe it or not, quitting junk food wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. Just a few days into it, I had zero cravings for sugar, which is my number one nemesis, nor craving for breads or pasta. In fact, I quickly realized, it wasn’t the pasta I loved. It was the flavor on the pasta I enjoyed so much. Which I still eat – guilt free – on top of any veggie or meat of my choosing.Finally, I was able to stop counting calories! I didn’t have to feel hungry all of the time. I ate foods that I truly loved, and had flavor (Nothing is blander than “diet” food. Case in Point, rice cakes). Bacon is no longer a sin? I’m in! Best of all, I was keeping my weight exactly where I wanted it, my workouts felt strong, my body lean and tone, mind clear. You know that hard to reach fat on the back of your legs? Yeah, I wore shorts, proudly – for the first time in my life! And I didn’t tie a sweatshirt around my waist. Don’t judge, you know exactly what I’m talking about.Even with all of this wonderfulness, it’s not easy to live a healthy lifestyle. And it’s not for the reason’s diets are usually difficult - yet for some of those exact reasons.The people around you.Family and friends, sad as it is, are some of the worst encouragers. Well-meaning as they are, I despise hearing: “You look fine”, “You don’t need to change”, “Your kids should eat this (sugar and soda), they’re kids”, “This one piece of cake won’t hurt you”, “You can cheat today”.I hate to be the one who explains this, but cheating is not a good term. Not today, or tomorrow. Not in relationships, not in school, not at the job, and not in my health.I consider myself an athlete in horseback riding. I like fast paced challenging events. For me to be a good partner for my horse, and to be at my personal best, I need to have a body (Unfortunately, I can’t do anything about the appearance of my face) that is strong, fit, and balanced. In addition to this, if there is a remote possibility – and the science behind Keto, and my personal experiences, says there is - I can ward off one or more of the scary diseases eating away at the lives of people around me. Deal me in, double.However, didn’t I already mention, its not easy to live a healthy lifestyle? “No crap, Sherlock,” is what my niece would say in retort to something so obvious. Really, in all seriousness, it’s especially difficult when you’re on the wagon alone. My point?I fell off my wagon.Actually, I leapt off, thinking it would be easy to just climb back on. It wasn’t. That dang wagon went right on along without me, leaving me sitting in my piles of cakes and pies. I have plenty of company now, but not encouraging company. Unless we’re referring to those telling me, “You look fine. You don’t need to change. Have a piece of cake. You can start being healthy tomorrow, or the day after that.”So here I sit, amongst my cookies and M&Ms, angry that I fell – okay, okay, I leapt – off my wagon and that my weight is the only thing climbing back on. Even after I realized that my jeans don’t fit me for the first time in… I don’t even know… I kept grabbing those delicious cookies my husband makes. Mmmm, followed by a Grrrrr, why did I do that?No number of workouts or hours riding my horses could undo the damage I inflicted on myself, daily. That’s when frustration hit the fan. It goes everywhere when it does that. I mean everywhere. I know many of you know what I’m talking about. You’ve felt it. We’ve all felt it.The world as my witness, I’m setting my foot down. I’ll even set my butt down, since its more substantial. I’m not going to leave it there though. I’m getting back up. I can see that wagon in the distance, and I’m going to catch it. Come hell or high water. (You know, if those two things actually arrived at the same time, it seems nothing would actually happen. Wouldn’t the water would just put out the fire?)Your wagon may look nothing like mine. And that’s okay. It may be eating less sugar, drinking less alcohol, practicing more compassion, not allowing anger access to your control panel. You know what is on your wagon. Can you hear the wheels turning? If you look, you can see it from here. Go ahead, look. Can you see the healthy lifestyle just sitting up there, waiting for you?I’m not saying it’s easy. I find nothing in life of value is easy; not relationships, a job well done, a healthy lifestyle… But it’s worth it. As for me, I’m getting back up. Again, and again, if necessary. But I’m catching that wagon.Want to run next to me for a while?

This may sound silly, but I leaned something today, from my hat. Actually, I learned more than one thing. Believe it or not, it had some darn good advice.1) Shield your loved ones from harshness.My hat’s primary job is to shield, whether it be from the glaring sun or pelting rain or hail. With my hat on my head, I am protected from things that would otherwise cause me to pause, squint, or turn my back to the direction in which I was headed.In the same way, my husband prides himself in protecting me. Not from everything, but in the ways that he can. And it is my job to shield my children, from things such as blinding lies and pelting dangers which are sadly common in this world. I’m not saying to lock them in a castle, high on the hill, with no windows to the outside world. Quite the opposite in fact. A hat goes with you, out into the world, and protects you as go. 2) Show what you believe in.I have a tall stack of hats. Each one is unique and each one reveals something different about me. There are hats I only wear for filthy jobs and massive amounts of sweat, hats I wear when I’m horseback riding, town hats, fun hats, and cowgirl hats. The reasons I have and wear each one is as various as the hats themselves.Most people who wear or collect hats do so because the hat demonstrates something about them, a style, a team they are a fan of, or a way of life they embrace. They don’t have to tell the world, their hat does it for them. The world’s, and my own, infatuation with hats has taught me, show what you believe in.3) Put a lid on the ugly.Okay, my intention is not to offend anyone here but myself. But I’m going to go out on a limb and guess I’m not the only who wakes up feeling ugly or finds a shower is not in the cards, but your hair is sticking out in every direction like an electrocuted octopus. Yeah, not pretty. No problem, hand me my hat. The one I got near the Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Disney Land that says, “It’s all fun and games until someone needs in an eye patch”. That’s the one.It goes without saying really, we all need to put a lid on the ugly. Not the vanity kind, but in all aspects of life. If it isn’t worth saying, don’t say it. Takes us all back to Bambi, and the wisdom of Thumper’s mom. “If you can’t say something nice…don’t say nothing at all.”Put a lid on the ugly.4) If you get knocked off, dust off and get back up.My hat gets knocked off. I’ve walked straight into low hanging limbs. I’ve tucked limbs out of the way which come loose and flick right back at me with vicious speed. I’ve fallen off my horse and ran my horse so fast the wind swept my lid right off my head. I pick it up out of the dirt more often than I’d like to admit. But the point is, my hat doesn’t care. A little dirt doesn’t devalue it. In fact, it adds value, stories, and bragging points. Like scars.So, the next time you get knocked down, dust it off, admire the marks that don’t dust off – they are the good ones – and get back on. Tighten the strap in the back if you want, but get back on.5) Rally cap it.A rally cap is cap turned inside out and then worn on the head backwards. It signifies having fallen behind, usually in reference to a baseball game. That’s not where the rally cap stops though. It’s not about being behind in points, it’s about the rally cap’s ability to evoke a spirit of winning, of collaborating the team’s ability to come-from-behind, bring it back, to win despite of.When I find myself at the end of my rope, spitting dirt out from between my teeth, one run down in the bottom of the ninth… my hat tells me… rally cap it girl.It’s never too late to turn the situation inside out, put it on backwards. Keep trying, up my game, bring it back, come-from-behind. Shock them all. Rally cap it.

My family and I went to visit the historic Long Barn, at P Ranch, outside of Frenchglen, Oregon during the early summer. May I just say, never visit the Long Barn in early summer. Ever. It was a beautiful day. Gorgeous in fact. Not too cold. Not too hot. But the mosquitoes! Undoubtedly, you have heard the phrase, "being eaten alive"? I'm not even remotely kidding here. We ran! And ran! And ran! But those hungry blood suckers couldn't be outran. They followed us like fighter jets, the entire acre sized cloud of them! They followed us into our pickup even, all the way home. Yikes, is putting that experience mildly. I'll even say it again. Yikes!The point of this - true, but censored - story is that excuses are a lot like those vicious mosquitoes. (I'm not talking about how hungry they were either.) I'm talking about a) their numbers, the astronomical quantity of them, b) their overpowering ability to steal the moment, the power of our joy, even our long lasting memories, and c) their venom that started with a painful sting and left us with fat swollen itchy blotches to remind us to never ever overestimate the boundaries they are capable of setting. Whatever our interests, whatever our dreams or goals, we all have this in common. Excuses. (Worries in disguise really.) They come to us easily and naturally, because in many ways, they seek to protect us, our investments, or in some cases, our sanity. However, excuses more often than not, are the negative, even cruel, assumptions we willing feed ourselves. We offer to ourselves, and others, a hypothesis - one that isn't even requiring any further investigation - as a reason as to why we shouldn't, or can't, have success in the venture we'd like to embark on. The good news? I have an excuse repellent recipe that I'd like to share. 1) Make your Pros and Cons ListThinking a venture through, problem solving, and planning is a good thing to do. But that's just the thing. If it’s really something you want to do, don't allow it to become a list of excuses. Stick to the facts. Write down the problems you can see that could possibly arise. 2) Problem SolveFor every Pro, go ahead and give yourself a high five, for combating natural negative tendencies. For every Con, come up with a way you can solve the problem. Did you know that the word "solve" in Latin means "to loosen, or dissolve"? It's time to loosen the vice grip negativity can have on us and dissolve that cruel voice in the back of our head that is constantly causing us to question our authenticity. Note: I didn't say "making us question our authenticity". We aren't made. It’s a choice. Start choosing to spray away those worries! 3) Make an Action ListWhat are the things you need to do in order to embark on your path to success? Remember, it’s not just the big things. Its more commonly the little things, that add up to be big things later, like a snowball becoming a snowman's butt. Also like a snowman's butt, success takes time, and careful management, to continue its growth, and to keep it from becoming lopsided.4) Start!Your action list is for acting upon. As you move down and along your list, you will begin to experience sensations of success in even the little things you accomplish. Those will inevitably lead you to the next success, and the next, and the next. You will begin to recognize and develop a flourishing belief that you can do it! And you will be correct. It won't always feel like it, so stay true to your Action List, revamping it when necessary, allowing for positive changes and expansion. I realize these concepts are not new to anyone. If we stop and think about it, we've heard them put a hundred different ways. But if thinking about my family's unfortunate tromp through the land of ravenous mosquitoes helps you to remember to bring your repellent to the excuse battle, well then, I would do it again. With repellent this time - of course.

Two years in a row, and hopefully for every year after, the following has been my resolution:

Strength, without comparison.

I will...
Work to the best of MY ability.
Play to the best of MY ability.
Love to the best of MY ability.
Give to the best of MY ability.
Serve to the best of MY ability.
Achieve to the best of MY ability.

I have resolved to strengthen my strength, in all avenues that I can. However, I have also resolved, I will measure my success not by other's standards, but by my own. We will never reach our individual beautiful potential by striving for someone else's.

Happy new year! May you find your strength, without comparison.

-Lisa

Two years in a row, and hopefully for every year after, the following has been my resolution: Strength, without comparison. I will... Work to the best of MY ability. Play to the best of MY ability. Love to the best of MY ability. Give to the best of MY ability. Serve to the best of MY ability. Achieve to the best of MY ability. I have resolved to strengthen my strength, in all avenues that I can. However, I have also resolved, I will measure my success not by other's standards, but by my own. We will never reach our individual beautiful potential by striving for someone else's. Happy new year! May you find your strength, without comparison.-Lisa

By now, most of my Facebook friends and family know, after suffering a "I haven't ridden my horse in over a week” with-drawl, I brought my horse into the house. It's not the first time, and certainly will not be the last. In fact, if I were to become a widow (I know those sound like extreme terms, but my husband insists that those are the terms), I would transform the bedroom next to mine into a horse stall - with one of the dual window-and-door-in-one things to my bedroom. You see, in my house, this is a normal concept, one I speak of all of the time. But to a particular dear friend of mine, it was a far more foreign concept, one of which had her shocked and entertained, with a side of appalled, like a combo meal of emotions. So, seeing it from her fresh perspective, I've decided to share the experience with all of you.As I already said, I hadn't ridden my horse in over a week. I had missed all of my regular riding days working on clearing out the brush and sideways growing trees from our property's low ground instead. Then I missed my regularly scheduled cutting lesson (where the horse and rider "cut" a cow from the herd, and have to keep it from re-entering the herd - more or less) due to the fact that after working in the brush I was covered with poison oak, or ivy - does it really matter which? Sadly, we have both. Anyway, I learned from the last time I had poison oak, or ivy, that when I'm on Benadryl, I can ride, but as sure as the sea is salty, can't cut. It was unsightly, to say it best, and downright dangerous, to say it correctly. So here I am, missing my regular medication of riding my horses, when I decide that I simply cannot take it anymore. I miss my horses. Particularly the one I refer to as my soul mate, Bella Dama. She's that one-of-a kind horse that actually prefers her people over horses. She was a mother when I bought her at the early age of four (she was four, not me) and I do believe she's been mothering me ever since. She and I are a lot alike. We both love eating and going places together - fast! Whether it be from this end of the beach to the other, from the third barrel to the finish line, or from the start line of an endurance ride and back, we just like being together. There's nothing we can't do when we're together. She'll give anything a good hard try, if I ask. Which leads me to her entry of the house, up the stairs. Like many houses, mine has a wooden stairway you must climb before granted entry to the front door. Bella can climb stairs, and has done so on many occasions, so I didn't think too much it. Except the stairs were wet, not to mention, older than the last time she had climbed them. I'm standing at the top, with the front door open, and she, with unfailing trust, begins to climb. She hesitates. The steps are a bit narrow, and not spaced far enough apart from each other for four long legs and hooves, but she looks at me and continues on. A little misstep here, a little grunt and slide there... then she falls to her knee. Our heart lurches in unison. Halfway up, she's committed now."Come on, baby! You can do it!"I can do it. I can do it, she says - in her head (I don't hear voices). She does. She lunges herself up the flat platform. But the flat platform is wood, and also wet. All at once, her four feet begin skating. She's not going anywhere, but her legs are going every which way, like Bambi on ice. Her belly hits the wood railing, catching her enormous weight and straightening her out so that she's standing there, four legs sprawled to their limit, scared to so much as to breathe, or else the skating begins all over again. I feel absolutely terrible, but I have to get her off that part, so I tell her, "I'm sorry, baby. Come inside, off the porch." Just inside the doorway, she can grip the mat and then the flooring of the house, no problem. Inside, she is treated to a quick beauty parlor. Her blanket is removed so she doesn't get too hot and I wash her feet with towels. As my son holds her and she waits for the cleaning to be done, she nibbles on the pile of apples I had set there for her. The little trip up the short stairs paid off in big dividends. Munch, munch, munch. Bella spent the next half hour venturing from room to room, checking out the furniture, the TV, and the coffee table where there were more carrots! The baby tree on the table? You could see the question in her eyes. For good measure, she knocked that over. Then she commenced to trying to steal my youngest son's toast with jelly. That was fun, but not as fun as tromping down the hall to dad's room and giving him a startling good morning hello! After she returned to the living room, that's when it happened - the good ole nature call. We've spent enough time around our horses in their moment of relieving themselves, that we knew it was coming. You can tell in the slight way they stand a little stiff, like a baby right before they squat and begin grunting and filling the room with a putrid smell, and their diaper with...well you know. Then the tail lifts, not a lot, just enough to let everyone know, "hey, I'm going to drop something here in... five...four...three..." At that point the tail lifts higher - must get tail clear of the dump radius- and then... Do you remember the movie Independence Day, released in 1996, with Will Smith and Jeff Goldblum? There's this part in the movie, right before the alien ship's first strike, and all those people are at the top of the building, looking up in awe. Kiersten Warren is there with her hand made "Welcome" sign. Something about the ship begins to change, and she says, "Uh! It's opening up!" Yeah, just like that. In a panic, I thrust out my bare hands, taking the catcher's position, while hollering to my boys, "Get a rag!" My oldest son doesn't move, but sits there and busts out laughing as a few apple sized cylinders begin popping out into my hands, just like that little stuffed bunny that use to poop jelly beans. I have no idea what my youngest is doing. Looking back at it now, it seems he was MIA (Missing in Action) at the time of the event. How curious. "Get a rag!" I repeat, frustrated, at my son's lack of movement in my moment of... Oh no! They are coming to fast! (It’s amazing how quickly the bowels can shove out manure. Are we really talking about this?) The poo facet is on full blast! I'm dropping warm pebbles of poo all over the carpet, and more are following! How does she have so many?!My son finally busts into action, and instead of bringing the extra-large sized rag from the front door that I used when Bella first came in, he brings me a tiny white rag, from the kitchen. Really?! Fine, its what's available. I move my hands, hoping the gooey pebbles manage to fall right into his rag. Yeah, well, they didn't. Somehow, by some miracle, every last one of them compact, steaming pebbles missed his rescue rag and fell to the floor with all the others. Thud, thud, thud, thud."Well, at least they are firm," I said, dropping to my knees, and collecting them with my fingers as if picking up chicken eggs, gathering them together into a pile.My oldest is no longer laughing. He's down on his hands and knees picking them up too, except he's using the little white rag like dog walkers use plastic bags, to pick up the poo and add to them my pile. It really was fortunate that Bella has such nice firm, not so little, poo apples. If it had been my husband's horse, Little Foot, it would have been a story of loose, green, with a bit of a splash. You count your blessings in times like these. We finally got them all gathered, thrown away, and taken out. Bella enjoyed a few more minutes in the house, walking from room to room, probably wondering where the poo pile was supposed to be, since we had seemed so adamant she had misplaced the first one. The rest of the visit was event-free and I was happy to have had her. I did, however, spend the rest of the morning steam-cleaning the carpet of the entire house before my husband got out of bed. :) If you would like to read more about our adventures please visit www.slaterlife.com

The best compliment, and mission, I ever received!!On a horseback ride with my youngest son recently, he encountered that moment all people crossing the bridge from “being a passenger on a horse”, to “being a rider” encounter, sooner or later.He was kicking, and growing quite agitated, that his horse simply would not take another step. Yes yes, I told him the regular things, “put your hand down, your asking him to stop”, “use your heels, not your bouncey calves”, move your hips like you actually intend to go forward “, “look where you want to go, not at his neck”, yada yada yada....The problem was more than these small mistakes all children make, and most horses kindly ignore. The problem was, my son lacked confidence. Not in his horse, he trusts that beast to carry him anywhere. He didn’t believe in himself.I told him all about how a horse needs a leader. A horse doesn’t like to be alone. A horse requires his rider to be the almighty protector. The horse is physically capable of conquering any feat, if his rider tells him he can. I told him about the horses used during war who took ammunition to the men in battle fields.I told my son, “imagine the world has become one giant battle field. I mean it has just gone to pot. Who is the one person in this entire world that you would follow ANYWHERE? The one person you believe can bring you through ANYTHING?”I was preparing to say, “That’s who you have to be for your horse,” when my heart was stolen from out of my chest.“You,” he replied.

Autumn has been gracing us with its warm afternoons and bone chilling nights. I’ve been watching as the leaves collect on the ground, growing more and more every day. Soon, the golden blanket will turn into slick mud when the wet begins to pour down upon us as relentless as the promise of winter.Down below my house, right after the barn, on the corner of the drive, lived my garden. My husband built it a tall fence to protect it from vicious predators with hungry appetites, like chickens and deer. My boys and I planted and watered and nurtured little seeds into an abundant and fruitful life. But as Autumn inched deeper and deeper and the sun retreated lower into the southern sky, the shadows grew longer and the once vibrant green life began to wither and fade.My mother came for a visit and noticed the once spectacular garden had begun to diminish in color and productivity. She asked if the garden was done. My reply was, “nearly”. The previously strong stems browned and turned frail, so I began to uproot the weakest plants and the decaying parts and pile them up to be decomposed and added back to the soil for next year’s benefit. My garden, in all of its summer splendor, had more than stalled, it was dying; slowly shriveling into the ground where it had once sprung from.A few weeks later, there was, of course, still a few tomatoes ripening; the little glorious resilient beasts that they are. So, when I was dumping ingredients into the crockpot for an easy dinner and it called for a can of diced tomatoes, I thought, I can do better than that. There are still a few tomatoes pulling through on the thin limbs.I marched myself down to what was left of my garden with a bowl and began picking my last little glories. After the tomatoes were plucked, I turned and saw a zucchini that had sneaked under the old dry leaves, still clinging to vine. I happily collected the zucchini as well. What a fine meal my elderly garden had given to us. Immediately a thought seeded in my mind and bloomed there, until I finally agreed to write it down.My garden’s prime may have passed, but it showed me it was not done. It was brown, weathered, and wilting, but it wasn’t finished simply because I was prepared for it to be ended, or because the shadows of the giants around it stole its light. No, my garden had life, no matter how dim, and saw fit to continue to bestow an offering of life, even after I had quit watering it. How fitting to our elderly - aged moms and dads, grandmas and grandpas.Our elderly, whether they be a stranger or a loved one, once lived an abundant and fruitful life, like a garden in its time of summer splendor. Many provided roads, bridges, businesses, or homes. Still others provided families, knowledge, or freedoms. Their glory days of beauty and splendor are bygone – in the past. Parts of their bodies, minds, and delights are being weeded away from them as the season of a man or woman comes to physical conclusion.However, like a book, the conclusion is not the end. It’s the most important part. Its where the story comes to reveal the light that was there all along. The wisdom. If we take time to visit and appreciate our elderly gardens, we just might be surprised to find there is more life there than we expected.Those few tomatoes and zucchini were the last fruits I enjoyed this year, but I realize I was more grateful for them than all the rest of the harvest from its entire season.