pondering...: Margin and Metaphors

My husband's leukemia has done one positive thing in our lives- it has created some margin.

Margin- a term I had heard before and aspired to, but never seemed to be able to achieve.

Margin- defined loosely as some space

So much has changed in our lives- so much has shifted. I'm trying to be very careful about how much I let back into those spaces. With a little space in our lives we are finding that we have some time for some of those things that never seemed to happen before- like running to the county library together this morning and researching the history of this old house. Like going out to dinner with our son before homecoming. Who would think they would want a couple of Parents tagging along- but they do, and we are.

Margin- time to appreciate each other a little more.

We are in a small group that is currently studying the book "One Month to LIve" I'm not sure I'm buying the premise- I don't see that many people who are told they have one month to live and begin experiencing a wonderous sense of freedom- but the concept is good. What would you do if you were told you had one month to live?

We are challenged in this study to find a metaphor for our lives.

I've been pondering this and one memory keeps surfacing

In 1994 my appalosa mare (Princess) gave birth to a beautiful filly, who we named Tango. That was all well and good- except that I had absolutely no idea how to train the young lady.

Three years later, Jill unexpectedly entered my life. Jill had trained dressage horses and graciously agreed to give Tango and I some much needed help.

Jill visited us weekly- and we improved slowly- from my being able to get onto Tango's back to circling and figure 8s. Tango learned alot- but I learned more- how to sit lightly, to communicate with my legs, how to be one with the horse.

On one particularly lovely summer evening, Jill instructed me to put down the reins, keep my legs off the horse and to cue her to move off in a straight line across our front field. About half way across the field, Jill instucted me to turn my head (and my head only) to the left and see what happened. To my utter astonishment, I felt Tango veer slightly to the left. A little while later we repeated the exercise and I turned my head to the right. Immediately I felt Tango angle slightly toward the right.

We repeated this enough for me to be sure it was no accident.

The horse and I were one....

I remember putting the horse away that night- still astounded- and writing a prayer to God. This, I said, is what our relationship to be. Please, let me be close enough to you that when you look to the right, I go in that direction...

If there is a metaphor for my life- I would like for that to be it...

I'm not sure it's possible - but I do know that to come close- I will need to keep my margins.