Full Moon Thoughts

We had an incredibly lovely full moon this week.

I've been dreaming every night. I dream a huge flock of birds is flying overhead, they are all bald eagles. Hundreds, thousands of eagles. They are carrying their fledglings in their mouths. One is carrying many, many ears of golden corn. I awake with the feeling that I have been shown something holy.

This blog has evolved from my initial intention of "horse stories" to a record of an inner and outer journey, centered on our small farm and my connection to the animals here. But I will wander afield into dreams from time to time, that great wisdom that comes to life when we fall asleep. I intuit that the source of this wisdom is the same Source that teaches us through our animals and our lives with them. One wisdom, many teachers. How patient the universe is with us!

Much undemanding time with the herd this week.  Walter Donkey has the closest bond to me. He comes to greet me (as long as I don't rudely misstep his dance with me!) and plays stick to me, preferring me to eating. What a compliment! He won't leave me until I consciously separate myself from him. Susie continues to prefer eating to anything else I have to offer, apart from scratches on her sweet spots. Sophia wanders close to me while grazing, and often wants to come to me, but she is living in her own reality. Her attention is often captured by things invisible to me. She is the "listener" and the "watcher" in the herd.

The less that I approach them with an agenda, the better I notice small things. A particular tilt of the head. A quite small swish of a tail. Sophia asked for a cookie this week, the very first time since she has lived here that she asked for something. How delightful! She was so mannerly, it would have been easy to miss. I'm glad that I didn't.

We had a heavy frost two nights ago, which did away with my recently planted tomatoes and basil. Oh, well, I was a bit optimistic to plant so soon, but sun and 70 degrees is quite seductive after a long winter.

Molly inspecting the frost:

"I HATE cold, wet paws.:

The mares found a sunny spot to stand on a chilly April morning:

Regarding the Last Post

I just realized that there may some people who follow this blog occasionally, who do not know who A. Nazorov is.  You can visit his web site at http://www.hauteecole.ru/en/alexander_nevzorov.php . I think I failed to make it clear that I disagree with his statement in the quote.

Further, the juxtaposition between the grace and respect shown to the natural horse in the Journal of Ravenseyrie and the disrepect for the "primitive" horse shown in his quote was quite interesting to me. Obviously, two very different views of the horse in her natural setting.

In spite of the many good things I've been reading about the Nazorov Haute Ecole, this statement has made me doubt Mr. Nazorov for guidance or wisdom about the horse. There may be some problems with translation, but the general sentiment is a problem to me.

I continue to wish the very best for those on the NHE path, I'm sure there is much that is good and useful there.  For me, I'll get back to my journey with my horses as my teachers and be back with something about that in the next post.

Here is a nice scene for a drowsy afternoon! Our dog, Molly the Queen of Naps:

Horsekeeping, Latin, and Other Oddities

"Besides the rebuilding of the horse’s entire musculature, herd living makes a horse very primitive and stupid, and returns the horse to the world of primitive ideas and manners." A. Nazarov

I read the quote above shortly after reading the wonderful post today at http://ravenseyrie.blogspot.com/ (Journal of Ravenseyrie).  I will personally always come down on the side of the natural nature of the horse, and the innate perfection of that nature. We humans have many creative ways to manipulate nature, from breeding toy poodles to shaping shrubs into topiary to building dams and leevees.  The outcomes vary. We are responsible for the results of our creative adventures with nature. When we domesticate animals, we must provide for them. We must take the needs and desires of the specific animal into account. BUT, each creature has some innate tendencies, that we may stifle but will always be there. Allowing a horse to live in a group of other horses is a kind of regression? Only if we have "plans" for that horse beyond anything nature imagined.

I find that to be a very, very odd quote indeed.

On the topic of horsekeeping, again it comes back to the needs of each horse, which can only be revealed by time, understanding, and relationship.

On the topic of teaching horses Latin....??? I missed this in my first visits to NHE. This is beyond my own comfort level.

For anyone interested in the nature of animals and our relationship with them from a different perspective, I would recommend highly all the books by Temple Grandin. Her academic study and her special experience of reality as an autistic adult bring an amazing clarity to her writing.

Had a lovely nature walk a few days past, here are some scenes of the farm welcoming Spring.

Blessings on your journeys and on the horses who teach us and travel with us.

"We love Julie!"

Julie is our farrier. To say that we love Julie is an understatment.  When Julie's mini-Cooper pulls into the driveway, the horses RUN TO THE BARN to see her. In addition to being a gifted barefoot trim farrier, she is an animal communicator, and she has a wicked good sense of humor. My horses have been "talking" to me through her for several months now. Her visit last Wednesday provided a classic example. Earlier in the day, our equally kind vet, Dr. Andrea Sinnamon, had come for the annual farm visit. Walter and Sophia really have no problem with the vet visit, shots and all, but Susie is another story.

Here is the conversation:

Me: I don't think Susie likes the vet at ALL. She gets more tense than anyone else.

Julie: She hates being poked. That is what the vet does; that is how she describes getting shots.

Me: I know, I try to distract her, rub her....

Julie: She doesn't care, she hates it.

Me: Maybe you can communicate to her that it is for her own good?

Julie: Nope, she doesn't care.

Me: Or, at least it is only once a year...

Julie: No difference, she hates it.

Me: Well, at least we didn't do a Coggins this year, so that was one less stick.

Julie (laughing out loud): She doesn't care, still hates it!

Now this is one hundred per cent Susie's personality. She is such a good girl, so well "trained" you can MAKE her do almost anything you want. But her opinions are pretty black and white. She had her 22nd birthday last week, and I would guess for the first 20 years of her life, no one asked her opinion about anything, and every attempt to communicate an opinion resulted in some human saying, "Quit that!" or "Stand still!" Don't paw, don't sniff, don't rub, don't MOVE. So, she didn't. She just stood and went along with whatever was asked (demanded) of her. She became an expert at getting along.

It has been one of the joys of my life to share the past three years with her, and watch her blossom in a setting where she was never smacked down for simply being herself. She has been allowed to explore, to inspect, to snuffle and rub and paw. Such a total delight. Which brings me to where we are today, to why I am taking a break from riding/training/doing.

Putting it simply, I want to see what we have as a relationship, when I stop making something happen. And, see if in the space and silence of simply being I can discover a direction that is equally satisfying for us both. God knows, we have circled and yo-yo'd and friendly-ed until the cows come home, and there is no way to pretend that we are "progressing" together in those kind of games (drills). Susie has always and forever disliked being saddled/cinched, and while cookies have helped, it is still obviously not HER idea. She will still walk away given the chance.

I know that she loves me.  I know that she will tolerate a LOT for me. This summer is going to be our time to discover what makes life as good for her as it is for me, what motivates her and interests her, once no one is insisting upon anything. It may be that cookies and carrots will remain the delight of her life, and I want to honor that. It is what it is.

I'm not signing on to anything (or anyone) right now. Just listening to myself and my horses. We will be keeping our rope halters, thank you very much, which I know they prefer.  We will keep the door open to riding. We will not be using bits again, ever. Apart from those few things, everything is up for grabs. How delightful to live with uncertainty, apart from love!

Walter had a very special day with Julie. He-who-hates-halters-of-all-kinds was offered the chance to be trimmed at liberty (he suggested this to me when Julie arrived, and she agreed to give it a go). He stood rock solid still, like a little Zen master, even when he had to put weight on his right hind leg which, as he said, "is not really meant to be weight-bearing" due to an old deformity. Such a brave little man. Such a very good donkey.

I'll close with this lovely photo of spring flowers, given to me this week as a Thank You from a coworker. TGISpring!

Dances with Donkeys

Walter is an accomplished dancer, light and quick on his feet. 

Here is his dance: I approach, and as soon as he notices me, I stop. If I take another step forward, he dances off: hop, skip, spin! If I wait, he invites me to be his partner by walked a few steps toward me.  Then I am allowed to take one OR two steps towards him. But if I take that third step...hop, skip, spin away! So it goes. He comes a few steps closer, I am allowed my two steps--no more, or I lose my dance partner--he comes even closer, and eventually, we meet, hand to nose.

Big sighs, antenna ears rotating, then having won his trust (for TODAY only, donkey trust expires each night and must be won again and again) he will stay firmly attached to me, up and down the pasture, up to the barn, wherever I go, we go together. What a compliment!

At dusk last evening, I returned to the barn to turn out the herd for the night. First, I just sat for awhile in the dry lot. Sitting on the ground, I am at Walter's eye level, and so must practice a new dance. For changing position changes the dance of course! Changing ANYthing changes EVERYthing in a donkey's world. I inquired about the rules of this new dance, and learned that eye contact was quite rude, far too intrusive, and that the most modest approach was to tip my head slightly down, and to the side, and look away (which happens to be Walter's favorite way to approach life). This made room for Walter's gentle energy to move into a shared space with me, and to take a bit of carrot from my hand. This was a quiet dance, imperceptible except to the most astute observer. We sat like this, dancing together, for some long time and I was careful to gather my energy gently away from him when it was time to leave.

Donkeys make excellent dance instructors.

Dreams

The redbuds are in bloom in our woods and I am having recurrent dreams this spring. I dream of moving, packing and unpacking my things, rearranging, making space, changing homes.  And, woven into these images, I am dreaming of caring for babies or small animals, and being at odds with the experts.  I know what the baby needs, and am fighting for her needs against the loud voices of doctors and specialists.  Or, I am leaving an abusive partner, who refuses to let me care for my animals.  I tremble, but nonetheless stand up for myself.

Or, I dream of wandering in stores, trying to find clothes that fit me--aware of the double meaning of "fit", first to actually fit my body, but more importantly to fit my sense of self, my small place in this world. I can find clothes that are out of season, or made for skinny women half my size, or--worst of all--polyester grandma suits.  I can not find the flowing garments of linen or silk, the soft sweaters and healing colours that resonant with my dreaming self.

Sister Therese, my spiritual director and a gifted dream worker, used to say, "We believe our lives are well-ordered, and in control, and then, each night, up on "the big screen" comes another story!" I think of this as I go through the daily round of my life here, quiet and predictable, while each night brings drama and change.

The new way of being with my horses is such a tiny, insignificant event. Just one middle-aged woman, with two middle-aged mares and a small donkey, making a shift in being together. Feeling our way together. "So what? Who cares?" say the inner critics I know so well.  Ah, but those same voices have ruled over years of giving into "authority" (the powerful, the dominant, the masculine, the rational) and have voted down all efforts at trusting in myself, in more feminine ways of knowing and being. They have labeled many things I valued as silly or pointless or (Dad, can you hear your voice here?) "A waste of money!"

A waste of money.  Isn't that one of the biggest unspoken (and spoken) criticisms of this way of being with horses?  Why even have them, if you don't "do" something with them? What a stupid idea. What a waste of money.  See how ingrained these lessons of my past have been?  I can give clear voice to the opinions of parents long dead and lovers long gone.

So it is no surprise that I've been haunted for the past week by an email from a Parelli friend. I can sum up her response to my recent journey by suggesting that I should "calm down."  I won't elaborate. Let me just say that being told to "calm down" is an old, old message, one that says, "Don't make waves, don't be emotional, don't be loud." Calm down.

This new way of being horses: a tiny, personal event....and an enormous threat to the status quo, to the power that humans have extended over the world of animals and nature. A threat to entire structure of "power over" that has ruled for centuries: men over women, white-skinned over dark-skinned, rich over poor, humans over animals. Enslavement, domination, deforestation.

Those of us taking this intimate, almost invisible journey with our animals? We are rattling the cages. I hope we don't calm down.

Cookie Tag, part 2

It is 85 degrees outside, high winds, sunny with huge white thunderheads scutting past.  The kind of weather that promises serious storms in the next day. Too warm for this time of year. The heat has pushed all the flowering trees into early blooms, and even the lilacs are opening. The wind, heat, and my splitting headache foretell some bad weather on its way.

After a LONG day at work, sitting in on the Commission on Cancer recertification process for our Oncology Program, I was grateful to come home and spend some time outside. Took a book and my chair, and a pocket full of cookies, out to the pasture.

Sophia saw me first, and very gradually drifted in my direction.  When she got close, I offered her a neck scratch--her favorite--and a cookie.  She stayed nearby, and grazed in a circle around my chair. At one point, when I was not looking, she snuffled the back of my neck. Sweet girl!

Walter was the next to engage with me.  Came straight up and stopped 10 feet away. I held up a cookie and invited him in, which pleased him greatly. We then had a profound time of connection.  He stayed next to me for at least 20 minutes, trying out small variations in being there. If he put his side next to me, would I scratch it? Yes. If he sniffed my hands, would I let him? Of course. We had face rubs and back scratches, all at his pace and his initiative. He put a hoof up against my foot, and we shared a little foot rub. There was a lot of licking and chewing. It was quite special.

Eventually, I decided to engage Susie, and Walter played stick-to-me the whole length of the pasture.  Susie was grazing at the far end of the north pasture. I stopped about 20 feet away and greeted her, and she played I-can't-see-you for a few minutes. I waited, but was thinking that unless she approached, I would not push things. It took a few minutes, but just when I was ready to take Walter and go back to the barn, she came walking up, asking a question. "Why, yes, Susie, I DO have a cookie...in fact, I have a pocket full. Would you like to play tag with me?"

Indeed, she was up for a game of cookie tag, with trotting, turns on the forehind, big stretches, and even backing a few steps. And, such good manners, when the cookies were gone, she did not mug me, but went nicely to the trough for a drink of water.

This is a great trust-building exercise for me, too, as I am not terribly used to having a horse "chase" me, LOL. But she stops on a dime when I stop, good girl. 

It's a challenge to just be where we are right now, and not be trying to imagine where we are "going." So countercultural to do less rather than more. I love the intimacy that is developing between us all.

That's today lesson from the herd. 

Elephants in the pasture

Just for fun, imagine that you have a pasture full of elephants.  Then, insert the word "elephant" into your ordinary life with horses. 

"My elephant's circling game is broken."

"I'm working on getting my elephant to step under himself more. My elephant is too heavy on his forehand."

"I played with my elephant in the round pen tonight.  He had a lot of trouble taking the correct lead."

Just an idea I am playing with.  Why do you think it is that we have such a very different set of expectations for horses that we do for other large mammals?  You could replace "elephant" with deer, or bear, or groundhog, I suppose. Or, even, dog.

Just thoughts...

Tonight the herd was only interested in intense grooming and continued de-shedding. First really warm day, and more fur was flying. Everyone loved the Furminator.

Now it is nearly 8 PM, and I'm sitting on the deck, listening to the first bobwhite song of the year. It is too beautiful for words.

Lessons Learned

In spite of many prohibitions about letting your horses rub on you, I have always used the daily removal of the fly mask as an opportunity for excellent face rubs.  The mesh makes a fabulous scratching tool.  I take off the mask, and hold it against my chest, and Susie just buries her face against me and rubs and rubs. It is VERY good, she says.

Sophia joined our herd last year, so the ritual of the fly mask face rubs was completely new to her. I introduced it by just rubbing her face with it, while she stood and thought about it.  Humans have not offered her many nice things, so this was a surprise.  After about a month, she began very gingerly to rub her face--little tiny gentle rubs. By summer's end, she fully understood the game and would enjoy big sweeping rubs, still quite polite.

When we got the fly masks out last week, I didn't know what Sophia would remember. But, smart girl, she was immediately asking for face rubs, even more enthusiastically than last year. She clearly learned that fly masks are for scratches. Good girl!

Two nights ago, I went out to the pasture with my chair and book, and basket of brushes and cookies. After some time just sharing territory, I took cookies over to Susie, and suggested we play "Cookie tag" at liberty. What a great idea, she said! We walked, trotted, backed up, had great fun.

So, last evening I went out as usual, settled into my chair, and within a couple minutes Susie noticed me. She came CANTERING over to greet me....."Cookie tag?? Hmmm?"

Old habits die hard, the first thing I thought was, "No, don't want to get this started" and second, "Don't want her coming over just for a treat."  Well, DUH. What exactly do I think will cause her to come to me, other than something she values and thinks is fun?

Guess I am no different than the horses when it comes to learning, it takes a few times for me to "get it" just like Sophia and the fly mask.  Susie is a quick study, I'll have to be on my toes to keep up with her. 

Tonight?  Cookie tag for sure!

Conversation with a "Horse Listener"

I am very fortunate to have a friend who is a very gifted "horse listener." She does energy work and communication with horses, and is spot on with her observations.  She recently spent some time with my herd (long distance, she is in California and we are in Indiana!) and I thought I'd record her conversation with them here.  The text in black is from her; the text in blue is my response to her. She knows of my horses from our long-distance friendship, but has never met them.  Her abiltity to describe their personalities, attitudes, and concerns is amazing! Thank you, M, for this gift to all of us!

The herd likes the direction you are taking with your horsemanship. They appreciate that you are learning about them and treating them as individuals. Susie-girrrrl wants you to know that she has no problem with riding. I appreciate knowing that. She has never been a big fan of having the saddle cinched, but cookies help with that a lot. I think later this summer, we will play with riding in the dry lot, either let her be totally at liberty about saddling or some sitting bareback while she grazes. While her body is hers, she is happy to share with you. She knows that riding gives you pleasure and she finds it pleasant too, mostly. ;-) Princess Sophia, while not wanting regular riding, is curious about what it would feel like to have someone sit lovingly on her, especially bareback. She gets the sense from Susie that riding could be pleasant, but she has not experienced it as a partnership where both human and horse are participating together. Sophia seems to have a lot of curiosity about our whole dynamic. The right to have an opinion is completely new.

Susie has some stiffness in her neck; it feels like it needed a slight adjustment, which we did. Susie’s neck has a strange little place, right in the middle of her neck at the base of her mane, where there is a three inch long section that stands up a bit. Until this year, her mane split at that point. Now her mane falls all to the right, but that one spot is still off. Susie’s teeth feel pretty good, but may need a look-see before winter to check on rough edges. She seems to be very slightly “calf-kneed” in that her knees are just a hair too straight. That causes a little bit of stiffness in her knees but not bad. She likes her feet. She has very sound feet, and she loves our farrier! She used to wear shoes, so I bet this is a big improvement to her. She would appreciate a massage on her back. It doesn’t feel bad or “out” but a massage would feel good. It feels like she is a little bit sloppy about getting her hind end underneath her. I wouldn’t go so far as to say “Bad banana” because it doesn’t seem that exaggerated, but she has a slight tendency to be on her forehand. Did you say you have had some cantering issues with her? If she got more over her hindquarters, those would probably go away. I feel like the forehandedness is a bad habit from maybe Western Pleasure training? Yes, she is over on the forehand, finds it very challenging to turn on the hindquarters. Overall, she feels good. She enjoys your softness; it helps her be soft. She is about 110% more sensitive than she seems. I have to be extremely conscious not to be “loud” with her. She is slightly jealous of the time you spend with the others but tends to show it by moving in between you and what you are focusing on. Snort! Too true. On Sunday, she was jealous of the fact that Sophia was getting a BATH. She stood at the gate, obviously wanting the attention.



Sophia is a little more skeptical, but she is very curious about you, your new direction, and what that means for her. She is not afraid. She would like to have a baby. I am sure this is true. She had over a dozen foals during her career as a brood mare. This will be only the 3rd year she has been retired from that. I suspect that Spring has always meant babies to her. She has a very maternal nature. She likes grazing in the pasture and likes having a sense of home. She feels like all of the pressure is off of her and that is a big release. She feels beautiful.  She IS beautiful, as I tell her constantly. When she came up next to you on the chair she was exploring physical closeness with you. She is not a snuggler, but she is moving in that direction. You sitting there and trusting her was very important to her. It was interesting that, of the whole little herd, she was the only one brave enough to come that close while I was sitting in a chair. She does not want to hurt you and she will be careful when you are sitting, but she also wants to explore that physical closeness without reins/lines/restrictions. Putting her belly next to you is a big trust issue for her. She has never had the chance to do that with a person. It allows her vulnerable side to come forward in a safe way.

From a physical sense, some of her teeth seem to feel slightly loose. They don’t feel like they are going to fly out, but they don’t feel as solidly anchored as they once did. Our vet and dentist, Dr. Sinnamon, will be out in 2 weeks. We will have her teeth checked then. She has some old, old leg injuries from racing. They seem to be fused and don’t hurt, but she probably had splints at the very least. She has a few arthritis issues, particularly in her pasterns/feet. It isn’t awful, but it is there. If she is not getting a supplement, I would consider one. I am seeing Yucca. You are seeing right—she receives this daily: Senior Flex, A unique combination of ingredients for support of the senior horse. Each ounce contains 5,000 mg glucosamine sulfate and 500 mg chondroitin sulfate for joint integrity and freer movement, 3000 mg MSM for its anti-inflammatory properties and 5500 mg yucca. Her digestive system is still not 100% but it is much, much better than when she arrived. She seems to feel it will eventually be 100%. She also receives Focus SR provides a unique spectrum of anti-oxidants, vitamins, beneficial microbes, chelated minerals, essential fatty acids and enzymes for added nutritional support for the aging horse plus a daily serving of SOURCE micronutrients to make it all work!The head of her tail itches sometimes. It doesn’t seem to be worms; it feels more like dry skin. Maybe put some oil or conditioner on it? If you do, work it in to the skin on at least the top 10 inches of her tail. I will do that. Other than that, she is happy, she feels good, and she is glad to be where she is.

Walter is eyeing me. When I say hello, he says “Hellloooooo.?” in a drawn-out way, like “What’s the catch?” He is not sure he needs to talk with me. He is never sure about that, with anyone, LOL. He is mostly content. He is aware that he is not a horse. What does he think he is? Do you get any image of his self-image from him? He does like brushing. His reluctance to come over and be close is because “Humans get too grabby.” He hasn’t always been given enough time to think and respond on his own terms. Indeed. He hates to be manhandled, but because of his size that has happened often. I feel like this is more about his history than about you, but he has seen an improvement in you when it comes to him. He would like to go for walks, but he does not want to be taken on walks. He wants to walk of his own accord and where he wants to go. It would be okay if you had a halter and lead on him for safety’s sake, but let him choose the direction, pace, and time. He seems to want to go down the driveway. I ask him if he goes out, will he be willing to come back. He says “Eventually.” I get the sense that he would like to explore a bit and see new sights – but on his terms. Thank you for that tip. He isn’t a fan of being haltered, but he does enjoy going out. We will try to have a walk about together. He is a strong character. I’d almost go so far as to say “unyielding” but I get that he will yield in his own time if he isn’t forced. It needs to feel like his decision. That is surely true!

Lots to lick and chew on....

Simply being

This week's lesson from the herd is about being versus doing.  Can I just "be" with them, without needing to "do" something with them?  And, when I do something with them, how can it be done with understanding and communication?

On Monday, Susie came up to the barn with a swollen, red, and itchy right eye.  She's always prone to this in the spring, when the flies and pollen first appear.  She brought this to my attention by rubbing her face on her leg, and then letting me gently rub her eye. Flushing her eye with saline always helps, but it is not her favorite thing. Here is our conversation:

I come into her stall with halter & lead: Would you let me put this on, so I can take care of your eye?

She takes a look, and turns her butt to me, walks out of her stall and into Sophie's: No thanks, I don't think so.

I stay in her stall and call her quietly: Come on, sweetie, I know your eye feels bad.

She comes back in her stall and stands calmly for me to put her halter on: OK, I guess I will.

Then, it is: No no no no I hate the feeling of you spraying something on my face, as she pull her head away. This alternates wtih: Oh I guess that does feel better, as she lowers her face and lets me give her nose kisses.

In addition to nose kisses, she gets lots of What a good girl, what a brave girl, I'm sorry your eye hurts.

For the first time, I am so aware that by haltering her, I am restraining her, I am "forcing" her to let me do something to her. It was the right and necessary thing, but for the first time, I was aware of how unnatural it was to tie something on her head and insist on doing something "my way." 

On Wednesday, her eye was still itchy and draining.  I took a different approach, and soaked some gauze squares with saline. Leaving her loose in the barn, I told her I wanted to hold the cool gauze against her eye. She was unsure, and needed to leave me several times, but I kept a hand on her back while she moved, until she settled and gave me permission.  I kept telling her it would feel good, it would be fine.  Once she let me hold the gauze over her eye, and felt the coolness, she gave a big sigh, and laid her head against me. I was doing something for her, and she was aware and appreciative. No restraints!

Same thing the next day, still unsure to begin with, but quickly settled.

Meanwhile, all week long I've gone to the horses with no agenda, nothing needing to be done, just feed them, love them, give scratches. No drama. It is lovely.

I am a slow learner, LOL.  Came home Thursday night and was surfing around on various horse sites, and found that CR is offering a WHR Course in a Box.  Starts April 18, plenty of time for me to sign up, cool! I quickly contact the friend who has borrowed my WHR videos and ask to get them back, ASAP, so I can get ready for the class. I am excited, something to "do" that is along this new path I am trying to walk.

I get up on Friday morning, and head to the barn to put on fly masks (a sure sign of spring in Indiana!). The herd is out in the dry lot. Susie is lying peacefully in front of her stall, Sophie is grazing, and Walter is taking a sunbath while he naps. I let myself in through the gate, and the peace and contentment is palpable. They know I don't "want" anything; they know I am not here to "do" something. Susie is quite happy to have her fly mask put on, without needing to get up. She is happy to have kisses, and rubs, and hear how lovely she is. Sophia comes walking over to me, to have her mask put on--the first time she has offered to do that. She is obviously happy and calm.  When I offer a hand to Walter, he too comes over to be greeting, and asks for ear rubs.

The light bulb finally comes on.

No, I won't be signing up for the WHR class. It will be wonderful, and I'm sure I would enjoy it, but this year I am here to learn from the herd. This year, I want to "be" with my horses. The sweet energy in the dry lot yesterday showed just how much they can sense this change. How relieved they all are to simply be accepted as themselves, where they are today, to have a human friend who has no goals, no need to do anything more than accept them and learn from them.

The photos are from yesterday, of Sophia and Susie are in their new "Easter bonnets" aka Cashel Crusader fly masks.  This year Cashel is supporting breast cancer research by offering pink masks, which even have a little pink ribbon on the side. Both mares think they look quite adorable in their new hats.

The Vision

I'm am hesitant to post this, but one of my hopes for this blog is to be a true record of the path with horses that life is offering me.  So, must go back and tell how it began. Here is my story:

I am standing on a dusty road, outside the gate of a large church. It is a hot day, very silent, no one else is in sight. Standing in front of me is a dog and a horse, waiting for me. I reach out my arms and extend my hands over them in blessing. The road behind them stretches out of town, into the desert and up into the hills. I feel that we are to be companions and will travel that road together.


I am outside the church, outside the reach of the church, outside the authority of the church. I need no one’s authorization to bless these animals. I am the blessing to them, as they are blessing me in return. I can see no further than this moment. I cannot see where the road is leading, where we are to go. It is a mystery that we will travel together.

This is a “vision” that came to me many years ago, at an art therapy workshop. It floated up from the inner depths of the psyche, and brought me face-to-face with my own future. It also confused the hell out of me; at the time, I was working as a therapist and program leader at a hospital in Kansas City. I was about to leave my long career in psychiatric nursing to take a job in the Episcopal church, to explore a call to ordained ministry. I lived in an upscale neighborhood in the suburbs of Johnson County, miles away from the nearest wilderness or countryside. The only horses I saw were trussed up in fancy bridles and saddles, trotting around at the nearest riding stable. I was allergic to cats, was an obsessive housekeeper, liked expensive clothes, and preferred going back to the Holiday Inn versus going back to the land! Our two Scottish terriers were the extent of my animal family back then.

Fast forward five years: I’ve been on the staff of our parish, become trained as a spiritual director, become a faculty member at a nearby monastery, developed a Benedictine Oblate group at our church, led retreats, taught classes, participated in liturgy. And guess what, I am leaving the church. I do not know it at that time; I think I am just leaving my job at the church, having decided that ordained ministry is not for me. I’ve also become active in wildlife rescue and rehab, and in fund-raising for our local animal welfare programs. I take a job in psychiatric nursing again, and become involved with equine-assisted psychotherapy. Wow! I love it. Initially, I am scared to death of the horses, but it awakens a childhood love of them, that overcomes the fear. I love everything about the horses, their smell, their soft breath, their shiny coats and lovely faces. I am in love.

One of the equine therapists agrees to take me on as an apprentice, on her farm, for the summer. I fit this around my full-time job, and am a sponge for the knowledge she offers. How to feed, what to feed, how to lead, how to ride, how to run the tractor, repair the fences, shovel the manure. Everything about the farm makes me happy, even the dirt and the heat and the sweat. I sleep in the living quarters of her horse trailer, and discover the brilliance of the stars without the competition of the city lights.

I buy a horse.

Fast forward five more years: We’ve done it. My husband and I. We have sold our house in Kansas City, moved back to his family’s farm in Indiana, built a log home. We’ve added horses, lost a few, given away a few. We’ve fenced pastures and added a small barn. I’ve become a student of the Parelli system, and passed “Level One” with my paint mare, Susie.

Oh at what a price these changes have come. I’ve lost so many identities, so many relationships and roles. I’ve buried my mother, moved miles away from my children and grandchildren. I’ve moved to a place where right-wing preachers replace gentle Benedictine sisters. Where my liberal views stick out like a sore thumb. Where the closest decent restaurant is a 30 mile drive away and the only clothes I need are black slacks for work, and blue jeans for everything else.

I spend the first four years here wondering what the hell we have done, and looking back, always looking back. The horses help save me. They give me a purpose, and the Parelli system gives me goals and friends to study with. I go from being a total novice to a fairly competent beginner.

My grief begins to subside. I begin to see the place we are in with new eyes. I get taken down a few notches, realize I am no better than my neighbors….actually, not as good as most of them. Not as dependable, or honest, or competent in the ways of living in the country. I begin to see much to be admired here. I begin to see that we did not make a mistake. This is where we are supposed to be.

Nature becomes my religion, my place of communion, my place to find the Sacred One. I come to know the specific birds and animals who share our land, I know where the bittersweet grows each fall and when the wild roses bloom. I start to hear what my animals are saying, what they are hoping for, and asking for. Books fly off the shelf at me, books that talk about animals in a way that is both new and ancient. Human voices echo what I am hearing from the horses. “I am enough.” “My body belongs to me.” “I love you, too.” “No, I don’t want to do that. Please give me a choice.”

So, I’ve come to the place in my vision. The place where blessing is offered and returned, where companionship is born, where a new journey is beginning. I am a student of the herd, and I hope to be humble.

Whose pasture is it?

Had no pasture time yesterday, due to rain and work, but did get to do the book and chair visit again this am. The dynamic of the herd was completely different today, as they were all still hanging in the barn when I made my way out to the pasture. I tried to find a low point to set up my chair, as it was really windy. Then, just sat and took out my book and read as is becoming my habit.

It was interesting to experience the pasture withOUT the horses already there. The sound of the ever-present wind, the soft lowing of the cattle across the road, the sound of birdcalls, and dogs barking far away--those filled my ears. The green grass, and scutting clouds filled my eyes.  And the fence, suddenly I was so conscious of the fence. I saw it as a boundry, an enclosure, a limit, in a way that was never quite so clear to me before. The pasture is not too small for our little herd, but to be there everyday, day after day, they must know it so intimately.

I'm not sure that more space to roam would equal more equine happiness. Whenever our horses have "escaped" they seem almost more unnerved by their freedom than excited by it. And, there are some bad things on the other side of the fence, some animals that might bite, some holes to fall into, and so on.  So maybe their pasture feels as secure and homey to them as my bedroom does to me.  I do think they like the fact that they can see good distances in all directions, and have a varied terrain to keep things interesting.

Anyway, the time alone there made me appreciate just how much it's NOT my pasture, it is THEIRS.

Eventually they decided to join me, and this time Susie came up first to greet me, though she was still a bit unsure about it, she was able to come close enough for a cookie.  Sophia and Walter were right behind her, and they all three decided that grazing within arm's length of me was a good idea. Sophia was the most interesting: she started grazing with her head at my feet, and then just continued along, so that I ended up practically sitting underneath her. That was a big trust issue for ME, as she can be really right-brained and has a big, jumpy spook, but I really wanted to be able to "be" with her and trust her with me. All was well, and she was happy to receive scratches all along her body as she slowly went past.

Then both mares had to have big face itches and rubs, and I had to go get ready for work.

Pasture Time

Took my chair, bucket of brushes and treats, and a good book out for 45 minutes of hanging with the herd. Very windy day, so everyone was a little right brained. They all jumped when they saw me, and stood stock still, staring for a few minutes. Susie collected herself first, and went off to graze. Sophie did the same shortly, but Walter had to keep his eye on me most of the time I was out there. They all started quite far away from me, and gradually grazed their way closer. Susie was in a what's-in-it-for-me frame of mind, and never found a need to really come and say hello. Sophia did eventually come all the way to me, and stretched her loooonnnngggg neck out, until she could sniff my toe. Was happy to greet the toe, but had to snort and jump when the hand was extended. Before I left, I did stand up and take each one a cookie, just to give them something to think about.
Later, at dinner time, Susie got ear scratches which she loved, and needed. Already little scabs in her ears, and already flies on the horses' faces. Hate them flies!
I am so interested that I--accompanied by chair and book--create some totally new dynamic in the pasture, and am quite intimidating to approach. Even Susie gave a bit of a start the one time she got close to me.

Rainy Day

Cold, windy, and rainy today. Shut the horses in the barn, as it was raining into their stalls; as long as they had hay, they didn't seem to mind. Did get the outside water tank cleaned and refilled, and new straw bag in place to keep it clean. I also went to Rural King and bought a better folding chair to be the official sitting-in-the-pasture chair. Since it was too wet for outside play, I spent some time organizing a big flexible bucket to be my bag-of-tricks for playing at liberty: brushes, curry combs, horse cookies, fly spray.  I'll add halters, a book for me, hat, etc. as the weather and games change.
We had a brief play time in the barn after feeding. Carrots for everyone! Sophia has become much more outgoing and confident in taking treats from me. She also seems to be more interested in me in general, since I spent a long time helping her shed her winter fur this past week:-) Walter ate his carrot and then stood as close to me as possible, asking for a hug and neck scratch.  Susie loved her carrot, but when it was gone, she acted a bit put out, turned her butt to me.  (A little jealous of the attention Sophia has been getting?) In spite of turning away from me, her ears were completely focused on me...how interesting...which I took as an invitation to do SOMETHING.  Rather than moving my own feet, or asking her to move, I gave her a huge butt and tail scratching session, and she signaled her appreciation by lifting her tail quite high. When it felt like the right time to stop, I gave her a little sideways look, and she did the same.
This way of being with horses must look like doing nothing, like so little is happening. I have a feeling I am going to learn SO much.

The First Day

Took our very first steps on this new path last evening.  Following the guidance of Carolyn Resnick's Water Hole Rituals, we started with sharing territory.
When I began, Susie was out in the south pasture, grazing, and Sophia and Walter Donkey were both in the barn, waiting for dinner.  I took a folding chair and a book, and went out to the pasture.  When Susie saw me coming, she cantered up to me, and went right past me up to the barn. Everyone obviously thinking I was there to feed them early! I took my book and chair and went to sit in the round pen, gate open. After about 5 minutes, Susie came out to graze in the north pasture and so I took myself into the north pasture, too. She did an excellent job of ignoring me--"If you didn't come with supper, I can't see you!" and eventually walked past me down into the south pasture.
By this time, Sophie and Walter had come out of the barn and were standing in the dry lot, staring very intently at me. Walter is extremely cautious about ANYTHING out of the ordinary, including Mom sitting in the pasture. Sophia has probably never even SEEN a human being sitting in a chair in her pasture. Walter just stayed at the barn, staring at me, but Sophia's curiousity was high.  She was snorting, and trotting around the dry lot, stopping to stare at me every few seconds. I glanced up at her from time to time, greeting her with words to reassure her it was me, but careful not to stare or direct too much energy toward her.
She finally trotted out into the north pasture, and stopped about ten yards away from me, head high, eyes wide. I greeted her softly, and then stood up and moved my chair away a few feet, retreating from her. This gave her the courage to trot around behind me, and then back, and after a few more minutes of taking this new situation in, she was able to stop about five yards behind my chair and begin to graze.
I moved around in my chair, stretching my arms and legs, and making sure I could move without startling her. She is very quick to spin and kick out when she is startled, "Kick first, think later" :-) She stayed calm and seemed to relax, so I just went back to reading for awhile. All this time, Susie remained in the south pasture--no big deal to her, she has had me in the pasture hanging out with her for years--and Walter continued to wait hopefully at the barn for his supper.
I stayed until it seemed Sophia had completely gotten back into her left brain, and then stood up, folded my chair, and walked toward the barn, being careful to keep my energy retreating from her. She immediately followed me :-) for about half the distance, and then decided she wasn't done grazing, which was quite fine with me.
What a good time.  I will start adding brushes and cookies to my pasture trips in a week or so. It will give Susie a reason to be interested in visiting me.

The Beginning, Again

Love the questions.
That is a bit of wisdom I picked up, somewhere along the way, which applies to nearly every part of being a student of anything. It is what I am trying to do right now on my horsewomanship journey.  I'm so far away from "answers" that I can't even articulate the questions. But, I am loving them.
I've been a Parelli student (Level One graduate) for six years. God bless the Parellis. What they are doing for the welfare of horses is amazing. But, I've been "stuck" for a year or so, not with the Parelli program, but in my own life, with my own horses. More about that in another post, maybe. Suffice to say, it has felt like I'm being led in some unexpected direction, which started with a strange, out-of-the-blue thought a few months ago: "If I follow this path to its logical conclusion, I have to stop riding." That thought just inserted itself into my mind, and now I can't even say what led up to it. I'm not even sure which "path" I was talking about. Hmm.
Then, the universe dumped an amazing book into my life, Empowered Horses by Imke Spilker. She was (is) lightyears beyond my understanding, but it was like hearing someone speak a language that I heard as a very small child. A sense of trueness, rightness, even though I could scarcely translate her words into sensible meaning.
I'd already "met" Carolyn Resnick, and had the same sense of "this is true" and "I have no idea what this means" experience.
With the interconnecting power of the internet, I was able to search here and yonder, and discover there is a whole community trying this new way of being with horses. Like anything "new" there are some conflicts, some judging, some this is right/this is wrong thinking. I am not going there. But I am going to step into this world and see where it takes me.
Only really obsessed, crazy horse people (like me, LOL) will find this remotely interesting. And even that is questionable. But, I do plan to keep this blog as a journal of my experiences, as I let the herd become my teacher.
Back tomorrow with our first steps.