“I have to learn to be an independent woman. So its a process.”- I said.
Let me rephrase that: “I have to learn how to be an Independent Courageous Hunter Woman.”- I repeated.
I told these words to a friend three years ago. She is a very special person in my life. She’s a person that could know the most horrific things about you and still think that you are amazing. At the moment that my mouth pronounced those words, I was actually looking at a picture in a hunting magazine. The picture was of a girl on a horse, carrying an elk on her back. I was so damn inspired by this image.
“I have to learn how to be a courageous independent hunter woman. So its a process.”- I said and believed it was all going to be about having the courage.
I thought I had it all down. This thing of being an independent woman had to do with being able to support myself financially, carry my own shopping bags and being able to paint a wall the color I wanted without having to ask “what do you think?” A very simple thing to accomplish for a little tough cookie like me. I was so fucking wrong.
I was absolutely wrong. It had nothing to do with that. The word courage is not what it was about, it was about resistance, tolerance, patience, performance, self confidence, self worth, dignity, values, character, dedication and resilience.
It was about not giving up, trusting the process, listening to my heart and following it but at the same time being humble enough to recognize that sometimes what my heart wanted wasn’t necessarily the best thing for me.
It ended up being about having the ability to accept my limitations and embrace help when it was offered and needed. It was about facing fears I didn’t even realized I had and sweet talking myself back to do things I almost gave up on. It was about persistence.
It was about humbling up to a world that we humans think we can control and trusting on its ability to keep me safe.
It was about learning and embracing fears that controlled my mind, my actions, my choice of words and the way I behaved around people.
It was about letting go of peoples opinion and placing my own on a higher standard. It was about quantifying the value of my worth and all that I have to offer.
It was about redefining the word solitude and finding company and comfort on everything that makes me, Me.
It was about endurance. It was about strengthening my core to be able to withstand the blasting force a woman can feel by crossing the border and entering into a world dominated by men hunters.
It was all about the recoil. The kickbacks we encounter along the way. Those times we flinch back in fear or times we spring back into confidence.
Regardless of the fact that in occasions we let others take our shot, because we are not ready to take it ourselves, at the end its all about that heart-rending freight we all try to avoid.
It wasn’t until I stepped a foot on public land that I understood the word solitude. I have been wandering around these woods for about a little bit more than a year now. When it’s not a rainy day, you can appreciate the nature of consistency. Consistency keeps you moving forward embracing who you are and finding resilience in everything that you encounter in the way.
I used to seek perfection in the past, but now I view consistency as something more beautiful and human. I fail at a lot of things. I fail at a long list of things, but continue to be consistent to where I want to be in my path. It’s true that I don’t know where I am heading. Nonetheless, all the things I don’t want, act like a compass to guide me towards where I want to end up.
In this technologically revolutionized world, I have come to find out that there are still locations, just miles away from the nearest cities, that are still disconnected from the net of invisible lines that control our daily routines through social media. Living, with literally little to no modern day communication settings in my own home, has changed my life. Now, I notice things that I never payed attention to before.
This week the temperature dropped in the morning by eight degrees. The sunrise and sunsets locations have shifted and the sun is beginning to rise later and nightfall is coming sooner.
I have also discovered that walking the woods during a full moon night doesn’t require to carry a flashlight. Spiders build their webs on the same nightly location and for some reason, they seem to always be facing down while waiting to wrap their prays.
After hogs have been rooting in my yard there is always a peculiar scent left behind and my nose picks it up immediately. Rain awakens any silent afternoon as if all frogs, crickets, cicadas and toads united all fronts to pay a symphonic tribute to the water falling from heaven.
There is never a dull moment living out here. If it’s not an entire family of otters crossing your path as you walk towards your mailbox it’s the cows jumping a fence or going under it to get to the neighbors yard.
Some say its a blessing. Others still believe there has to be something wrong with me and possibly have already diagnosed me with some sort of incurable mental illness or disease. I say it’s the latter. Living out here, transforms you. Beyond the tree stump, you find your solitude.
Photography by: The HuntsWoman Path©️
© 2018.The Huntswoman Path. All rights reserved.
© 2018. The Huntswoman Journal. All rights reserved.