I wrote "La Jinete" about 2005 in an attempt to describe my kindred-ship to this Sonoran Desert and her inhabitants. Far more than merely a place to build a house with a view, the desert is a living thing who moves into your dwelling and your soul, without permission. One can not live here and be oblivious to her omnipresence. She demands attention and, if not given, she will spit you out. Or worse. 

   La Jinete is an unfinished work I pick away at as the years pass. There is so much to impart, it may never be all said. 

La Jinete

I've been out here since I can remember, since time began it seems 

It's the place where my soul finds comfort, here where only God can intervene 

Life in the desert trims up your soul, for she's exacting, precise and honest 

Lie to her or your own heart, she'll  leave you dead. That's a promise. 

Don't recall when I came here, for I'm a part of this desert landscape 

She's blended me in with the quartz and the sand, for me there is no escape 

As wild as the wind in the monsoon, soft as the coos of a  babe 

Her breath is my life and my solace, her songbirds my hearts serenade 

She keeps me here enchanted with the gifts she leaves at my door 

She showed me my place in a story, a magical piece of lore 

Of spirits unfettered, unconquered, of fierce, unshakeable hearts 

Courage, mettle and nerve, and a souls' unbreachable ramparts    

I'll tell you that story if you'll hear it. It will take a measure of time  

And, you have to hold on tight, for the ride's is over ground that's unkind 

But, perhaps you'll understand then, why this place holds my soul and my heart 

Just why I stay out here in the desert, in my story, to you I'll  impart  

Pale blue mists weave and prowl through the pleats of the mesa's skirt 

No animals stir, no morning birds sing in my disturbingly silent desert 

Then, gently at first, moving up thru the earth... a barely perceptible tremble 

Now, stronger, then louder, it soon overwhelms with a pounding, ear filling rumble 

My curious eyes scan the horizon for the source of this frightful rampage  

Then, they're on me, flinging hot breath and foam as they burst thru the silver sage 

They snort and squeal at the sudden stop, bumping, rearing, teeth bared 

But, they dare not run past their mistress, who's astride the blood bay mare 

The wind lifts her hair as she smiles,  and I am breathless to realize 

How can it be?  She is I,  I am her!  Those lucid green orbs are mine eyes! 

She looks in my face as her horse dances there, her face so calm and serene 

And she peers in my soul with a knowing so old, discerning, carving and keen 

Then, a leather gloved hand sweeps from her cloak to the obedient herd in her wake 

She nods at me and signals a mare who moves forward for me to take, 

I rise and drift through the glorious herd of horses this bold woman leads 

She watches me, knowing my heart,  that her very command I will heed. 

I swing aboard a freckled grey back and grasp a handful of mane, 

We move out on the breeze of a winters dawn ore a rugged and ancient terrain 

My heart is bursting with wonder, like a child I'm carefree and wide eyed    

My soul is awakened,  my spirit alive as we gallop along side by side  

Flying thru sage and cactus, bearing south we gather more speed 

Then turn east to the Chiricahuas, a most humbling land indeed 

(C) Nancy Elliott Music and Sonoran Desert Sage Pub 2005

All rights reserved, no use or copies of any kind without permission. 

            My time on earth is precious to me - as is yours - and it becomes more precious with each passing day. Whilst I am still here, there is no place I would rather be than with others who are like minded in this respect; those who choose to be more than merely physically present, and who make the decision to be spiritually, emotionally and mentally present in life whether alone or with others.  
    I will never accept that not giving another human one’s complete attention is merely “the times” and “a new way of communicating and sharing,” and that I need to get with those times. From what I see, “the times” and “a new way of communicating sharing” leave not only me feeling disrespected, set aside, alone and left out, but also many other folks. The younger folks are feeling this, even if they cannot name it. That feeling of aloneness, separateness, and being disrespected creates hard edges on people, especially young people. They get tough, indifferent to others (if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em) and angry at a world of people who are not treating them right. Today’s 20 and under group was raised in these disrespectful, spiritually barren times, sometimes by emotionally and mentally disengaged parents - often I have seen a child who can not yet walk given an electronic device to entertain itself with. The 20 and unders may not even know what real respect is, or understand the need for face to face, eye to eye conversation and so, they suffer from the lack of what they cannot name or define. They suffer from malnutrition of the soul brought on by human connection deficiency.  It has a real name: Failure To Thrive. 
            And, it is not only the younger generation who suffer. Adult onset failure to thrive is just as real and perhaps more deadly. Speaking from personal experience, when conversation is instantly interrupted by the ding, and people who I am conversing with choose to immediately answer a text message or check how many likes they have acquired on social media, I feel as though my very presence is of such low value that I can be put “on hold” and I fight an overwhelming urge to leave the room.  I say with certainty that an “emergency” text is extremely rare. Is it more disrespectful to delay answering a text - or looking to see who it is - than to disengage with a person who is present in order to respond to someone who is not present, effectively giving the non present person and what they have to “say” more value?  Once, while out for dinner with friends and having what we thought was great conversation, one person backed their chair away from the table and began to engage with their phone. They purposefully and effectively chose to leave the group, but felt as though they still had the right to remark on half heard discussion. That behavior is rude and disrespectful and hurtful.  
    There are so many necessary factors in life which keep us from spending time with our friends and loved ones. Don’t let factors you can control keep you from being fully engaged when in their presence. Time flys so fast, is gone forever and cannot be recovered. I wonder, if after the loss of a loved one or a friendship, how many people regret not paying attention, regret not being fully present, regret being on social media in the presence of or while on the phone with others and not really hearing or properly responding to the last words spoken to them. If the "conversation" took place in person, is there regret for not looking into the eyes, not seeing the facial expressions of the person speaking to them?  Do they wonder what they missed? Do they wonder if the other person noticed their distraction, their obvious preference and deliberate choice, to be mentally elsewhere rather than present? I will answer that, yes, they noticed.  
      I hope that you always choose to be fully present, with every fiber of your being on task. Each moment you choose not to be fully present is a waste of precious time - mine and yours. I promise to make every endeavor to never waste your time.