What is my life about, really? What is the point of it? Is it making money? Being secure? Being famous and acclaimed, perhaps. Telling people what they wish to hear, maybe? Accepting friendships that are not real, speaking hard of my life or my work, telling struggle and pity stories about my difficult existence? Letting other people tell me what to do, what to fear, decide if I am healthy, if I am free?

My life is about moments like the one above, where I am privileged to witness a point of light, point of life, this connection between a wounded pony and a wounded human, both rising about their problems, both strong and adaptable, both loving and open. One reflects the other, a mirror of life, of pain and loss, of love and growth, of strength and change. Two disparate and different creatures, thrown together in the oddest and least likely of ways, coming from completely opposite directions and lives, unlikely even to know or see one another, yet bound together suddenly and intimately on the raging current sometimes called life. My life is about seeing these points of light, feeling them, capturing them in my writing, my photography.

These two beautiful spirits do not whine or complain or speak ill of their hard lives, they triumph over their problems and swim in the stream. Points of light. Of life.