Author Archives: stablewomen

When do we give up on something? I’ve had horses who were not happy in the roles or situations they ended up in – whether my own or someone else’s. I have always tried to find a path or task that suited the individual: the horse or the student or the client. Sometimes, though, there never came a moment when things “gelled” and felt right for all involved.

Those times are quite difficult. In relationships with other peeps, I have been willing to “move heaven & earth” to make things work – and that is not healthy, especially for me. But, in relationships with animals, the human needs to be the one working to create rapport and shift things to make them comfortable. And, at times, that can mean finding a new rider or owner or companion for that horse (or dog or cat…). That can be an emotional roller coaster.

Come to think of it, letting go of a human companion can be very emotional, too, of course! Yet, the person has the ability (one hopes) to make his own choices and look out for his own well being. Animals, well, not so much. They are totally dependent upon us.

So, when things are just not working out, our obligation as a loving companion is to find a proper and caring situation for the animal. Easy to say… sometimes quite heart wrenching to accomplish. My thoughts are on this topic this evening because a student and I were discussing what should happen to my horses if I should come to harm or leave (not gonna happen, but a “what if” conversation). I actually know what would be best for each of them and I need to write it down!

When you are intimate with a being, you realize what their soul requires. I know my horses, possibly, better than I know myself.

I will never give up on any of them – but in my past, I have had horses who were not happy or not fitting in with my stable yard. And here is why I am in no way a businesswoman – I would give them to good, secure and loving homes. Just as I have never wanted anyone to simply drop me into a vacuum, I would never just sell a horse to get “rid” of him! I even explain, in detail, what is happening, why and what the plan will accomplish on behalf of the horse. I believe they fully understand… at least, I give them the option of hearing it from me!

I love unconditionally, I can place a horse in a better situation than I am able to offer without feeling shame. So, maybe it is less a question of “giving up” and more a sense of allowing something better to evolve… for all concerned. Tonight, I really will write out what I know would be best for each of my beloved horses and put it somewhere obvious. Nothing is going to “happen” to me, but I need to do this as an act of good stewardship… to be a good companion… a loving act.

Maybe that is something everyone should do – just a letter about what would be best for those we love.

Back in 2005, ’06ish, I was working for an Equine Assisted Psychotherapy program and we were setting up facilities at a private home for my four horses and me. I designed a single roof shelter that could cover the 4 horses with individual pens connected to it. We set up a round pen for activities and a friend loaned me a little RV type trailer to live in right beside my precious horses.

When we were loading my horses to move them from the stable where they had been living to the new place, my Arabian colt, Darjeeling kinda panicked in the slant horse trailer and thrust the barrier divider against my body, slamming my head against the wall and breaking 3 of my ribs. He fell out of the back of the trailer and I immediately decided to walk him in-hand to the facility (it was close enough to do so). A friend walked my Dorje’ (older, wise Anglo-Arab) to keep Darj calm. I was in pure agony and Darjeeling probably was, too.

I had a big, angelic gaited mare, Sandalwood and Darjeeling’s cousin, Dharma Gita, another gray Arabian I had raised. Later, Sandy would pass over and Dalai (another gaited mare) would join my herd.

I spent that first night in the little trailer desperately trying to find a position of less pain so I could sleep. The next day a friend who was a surgical assistant helped me support (and confirmed) the broken ribs. Then, with very little ability to even inhale, I started seeing clients and putting up more fence! I had the trailer hooked up to water and electricity. I had a tote thing to haul my black water (sewage) across the few acres to dump it in the septic tank. I pulled it with my Jeep. Everything was agony, everything was miserable while my ribs healed. Everything was my responsibility but my only authority was over my own horses and I covered all of their expenses.

So, I decided that it would become an experience of deep practice for me on all levels. I had no television, no music, very little light… but I read at night and studied things important to me. I devoted all of my waking hours that were not with clients to taking care of and bonding with my horses.

One night I woke up to heavy rainfall battering the roof and… a sopping wet mattress. The roof leaked over the bed. My brother came the next day and helped me get a big tarp tied over the trailer, being careful not to block any vital vents. For heat and for cooking, I hauled 2 propane tanks to the city to fill them and waddled them up into their little shelf for hook up.

Eventually, we got a bigger trailer thing for me. Eventually a nice barn was built and for a while the horses and I were more comfortable. I felt like we were doing such good work (we were). But I did, after almost 4 years in EAP, burn out. My horse, Majic (with me now) worked for 7 and a half years in EAP. He has my utmost respect!! Part of the burn out had to do with none of the facility nor program being my own. I was working hard to create and enhance that program for someone else (who I cared about) and in time, I was unable to keep going.

I saw things that shook my soul during that work. I experienced things that touched and healed my heart. I heard of things that scared me deeply and haunt me to this day. It all required that I be tough and tender and hold myself to task day in, day out. I’m really glad I did it all, it made me a better person… even though I would never do it again!

I was visiting with my brother at lunch today downtown. He told the story of a young man he had worked with many years ago. This man drank at work and hid tiny vodka bottles in the toilet tanks of the bathrooms there. My father did that… at home and at our newspaper… tiny vodka bottles that my Mum gathered one year and threatened to hang (dozens, if not hundreds of them) as Solstice tree decorations!

It got me thinking as I drove home with a truck full of hay – we each choose our “poisons”. Some people eat bologna and white bread; some (like I did) smoke cigarettes; some choose things to inject into veins and others find stuff to inhale, ingest and imbibe to the point of numbness. And we are all simply looking for an escape, a relief or a soothing of some exploding trauma deep inside.

I have to admit, I thought about my emergency cigarettes as I faced the past few months of my life. I smoked half of one and felt no guilt and, remarkably, no desire to continue. I have a glass of wine (and am always cautious, knowing my father’s alcoholism can be genetically in me) some nights now. When caring for my Mum, I couldn’t risk being anything other than totally clear; couldn’t play my music (loudly) in case I wouldn’t hear her; couldn’t burn incense (it bothered her and my elderly dog who passed over earlier)… now, I am finding me again.

I do not regret a single moment of taking care of anyone I loved or love. Now, I will be taking care of me, mostly… for a while. I love me, too, actually.

And I need to be extra aware of my own proclivities and work on controlling potential obsessions. Of course, horses are a given and cannot be categorized as an obsession! But cupcakes can be. With no appetite lately, the french fry and cupcake draw are in the background, but could at any moment leap to the front of my experience. A lifetime as a vegetarian sometimes meant that french fries were the only choice for me eating out. I got to like them… potatoes, really, in any form.

So, tonight I look at what I need to eat for my health and happiness. I’ve been living on apples (a proper choice!) and feeling pretty good, actually.

Thank goodness I love tofu. I remember my Mum trying to eat tofu burgers I made and tofu-chocolate pie and tofu scrambles (like eggs)… she hated tofu!! I used to bake chocolate/tofu pies and shared one with the elderly Mexican man who lived by me on Furnace Street – my landlady tried to explain tofu, then called it a “frijole” chocolate pie. He made such a face!! I laughed till I peed.

I love butternut squash, parsley, celery, tomatoes, beets… it’s a good thing, these are what my body needs. And, on occasion, a cupcake, glass of wine and once a year, half a cigarette.

A really long time back, a group of us, mostly horsewomen would go to the Fountain Theater in Old Mesilla, New Mexico. It is an old, funky and sweet theater where we could buy wine and snacks, even meals while we sat in the rows of seats or at cafe’ tables. One week I saw an ad for the upcoming film: “Joan of Arc de Mongolia”, described as a film about Mongolian horsewomen. CRIKEY! I got everyone to buy tickets and we landed there en masse. I was excited. I had horse friends with even their husbands and boyfriends gathered to watch. And then the film started…..

It was a German film. It lasted over 4 hours (I’m pretty sure that’s right, it seemed like 8 hours). It was mostly, for 2 of those hours, about people on a train…. an eclectic group of characters… on a “train” with a rotating cylinder outside the “window” to create the sense of movement – the same painted trees going by over and over… I was so motion sick! And they actually had an apple I could buy. It saved me.

At one point there was a “scene” outside the window when the “train” was supposed to be in a station – there was a horse walking by. One of my friends groaned and said she hoped that wasn’t the horsewoman scene. I figured it was and tried to figure out how to just disappear.

The movie moved along and somehow the train got to outer Mongolia… women from the train ended up with Mongolian women, outside, riding horses wildly and (UGH!) slaughtering sheep. I shudder for so many reasons when I think of that night. My friends were kind. They just gave me odd looks and hurried to their cars and trucks down the very dark streets at the very late hour. We did not speak of it for a long time.

Tonight, I think of it as a kind of bonding ritual. Those of us who saw it began talking about it and those who had not seen it starting acting as if they had! Soon, it was a badge of courage to have endured and we held each other in great admiration… after enough time had passed and the irony/humour could be savored. I thought of it tonight while thinking about those dear friends.

I asked a friend of mine a while back where she would choose to live if she could choose anywhere in the world – and she has lived all over the world and visited everywhere. Her reply was, “Where my friends are”. AWESOME answer. She lives here. She was one of us who courageously and without complaint sat through the entire film, “Joan of Arc de Mongolia”.

I went out to feed this morning and found a strange horse loose in my driveway. He was healthy and well cared for but when he saw me with a halter, he became frightened. I threw some hay to him to keep him nearby and tracked back his hoofprints to a neighbor’s home. The man was getting in his truck and saw me – turned out, he’d been looking for his new horse for over 3 hours. He had bought this gelding from people who did not know much and had mistreated the guy. He had a real fear of ropes (great……).

So, we tried a bucket of grain and this man was able to pull his truck up near the horse and just almost get him “penned” in, but he bolted and headed out the road. The man drove home to get his other horse – watching him, I saw a good horseman with great instincts. I figured things would go well for him, so I got ready to teach my lessons on the west mesa.

About an hour later, another neighbor seemed to have joined the project – but this guy is our neighborhood loud, big truck doughnut spinning, engine gunning “boy” in a man’s body. That sounded mean (but accurate). His family has been kind to me always. But, the truck guy can be just obnoxious some of the time. AND, this morning, he zoomed off actually CHASING the poor horse all over the neighborhood. All I could think was how many negative drops were falling into this horse’s well of experiences… and wonder how long it will take to gain any sort of rapport with one so traumatized.

Loud-truck-guy seems to always have the best intentions; to help. I see it often with him. I also see a lot of aggression in the process – like today. I sent Reiki to the horse and the situation.

When I returned from the west side of the city, all was well. The horse survived, the kind owner brought me back my halter & lead and thanked me a lot. I saw two distinct personalities in this experience. One was a man taught by horses to move slowly, be kind, be patient. The other was a man taught by… ? society maybe, to be forceful and loud and a “loose cannon”. The one will have a life of being respected and admired, I think. The other will likely be feared and maybe shunned (I just give him lots of room, always staying polite)… but that is probably judgmental on my part. I wish the aggressive peeps could see how effective the calm peeps are….

It was a good lesson in perspective for me. If I have a horse in trouble, I know which neighbor I will run to first. But I also know, if either of them need my help, I’ll be there in a flash.

I don’t know if it’s the websites I work with or the wifi, but nothing is ever the same, day to day in ‘puter land! Then I consider the astonishing things we do now with these boxes of circuits… and the fact that the world is more connected than it has ever been makes me happy. I think, after all the dust settles from the over exuberance about new gadgets, a world Gene Roddenberry would be proud of will emerge.

I hope so.

After the weekend, I embark upon a journey to rebuild and improve the Dharmahorse online presence. I need to do this. The past few years have been just getting by and I need more now. So… ‘puter land, please be good to me! And the job application goes to town… whatever it takes. You know me.

This is a photo of me driving my sweet pony – in the background is a gelding we all loved deeply (belonged to a friend) – TJ, the black horse, passed over this week. Rest in Peace dear one. I didn’t have many photos of TJ, but wanted to honor him. He was adored by many!

My office is at the opposite end of the house from the furnace. Tonight, the warm air pushes its way down here, but I made a hot cup of coffee with soy creamer as well… for warmth. I have the little radiator on in the bathroom and plan to soak in an hour. I am certain the hot water soaks are helping my neck along with my necklace and pillow for the pain.

I would like a glass of sweet wine, but that would have me asleep in no time! I got my application today for a job as a DJ at a radio station. I’m thinking some extra, consistent income would be smart right now. It is something I can do. I could run printing presses again, but my hands are more beat up now than they were when I was a pressman. That might just use them up completely.

With 7 horses to support (and me and 2 dogs), the school alone might not meet the needs… I’ve been hanging on by a thread for several months. Yet, I know things will be okay. They always are. And I actually like the idea of working in radio. I like new adventures, I like building new dendrites. It just might work out.

I am proud of my student and my horse, from the Horse Trials – we are a stable focused upon the well-being of the horses and we can still go out and compete admirably.

Tonight, I’m kind of going over recent past events and thinking through all the meanings… from all the months of holding my Mother in the light before her passing, to my connection and loving of a new human who ended up confusing me, to the vacuum of repetitive days and weary nights… it does seem that life has its own agenda. All I really know is that I am honest, I am loyal, I try to be kind always and these are all I can do and be in the world. I can’t make others do or be anything at all.

But I can teach. I teach how I communicate with these animals through compassion. I teach how I keep us all healthy through Nature. I beat the drum of “less is more” and I cry out against the medical model that reduces the animals to mere parts and parcels. But, it may not be enough to sustain us… what I do is not necessarily interesting to the masses.

I brought my Mother’s ashes home yesterday… from the city. I drove up the mountain on the Highway with my hand resting the whole time on the container. I did not cry at the funeral home, but I wept all the way back to my home. Here is a photo of her with her 3 special dogs, from back when she was healthy and happy (she never liked having her photo taken!) and a last photo on my porch with my pony loving her.

And here is my precious, 21 year old Basil who passed over several weeks before my Mum had her fall that set off the deterioration of her health.

I miss them both more than I could ever express. Yet I would not have them suffer one moment just to be present for my sake.

Tonight, I look at my life and life in general. We all suffer, we all love, we all dance and we all aspire. I walk past my furnace and say “I love you, thank you” because I find being able to turn a switch and get instant warmth (or cool in the summer) a real miracle. I heat my coffee back up in the microwave (I tried going without one and gave in) and add some whipped cream – so indulgent for me!

Tomorrow will be a day full of horse care and lessons and good friends. I’m looking forward to it… nice really, to look forward to tomorrow. I have forced myself out of bed for so long. I feel like some healing is going on for us all here. I have an article that needs to be written (for a big magazine) and another column to plan for the newspaper. I’m skipping the newsletter this week… no inspiration right now. And that’s okay.

Old Doctor Who’s come on in just over an hour. I may walk over to my brother’s house and ask for a cake or other sweet – I’ve been unable to eat much for a really long time… the advantage is that I now wear size 7 jeans (used to be 10). But I’ve not bought any cupcakes or pastry for myself and tonight I’m craving something!! I still have all the size 10 pants… just in case.

The animals are so forgiving. For weeks… months now, I have made the dogs sleep outside of my bedroom because my neck hurt so much that getting wadded up in a weird position (with anyone else in the bed!) was torture. Last night I left the door open, explained everything to both dogs and Skipper curled up on a pillow at the corner of the bed and did not move all night!

Phoebe likes to lie on the floor by the bed until I’m asleep, then she goes to the sofa.

The horses have seen me collapse into tears over a dropped muck bucket. They’ve seen me throw a muck fork across the yard swearing in ways I have not expressed since I was a teenager…. I curse at the hay when I’m stacking it (it seems to give me more strength) then do Reiki symbols over it to de-tox the energy. I believe, truly, that my releasing of the frustration, sadness and anger is healthier than swallowing it. But the animals watch it and hear it and, thank goodness, forgive me immediately!

They always have been the first to forgive. And being so sensitive, the horses and dogs take on all my feelings and are more deeply affected than humans are by the connection. I ask their forgiveness for the melt down when I ram my toe into the stool leg, step barefooted on the Nylabone, push them aside hurrying to the unbalanced spinning washing machine… and they forgive me every time.

I think that now, as things have settled from the care-taking and fear, I’m actually more wonky. While my Mother was in my home, I had a flooding rain send water into the walls and into my breaker box, tripping all the GFI switches… I had no power in half my house for 2 days. Thing after thing that happened, I just faced them… Now, well, I think things caught up with me and I’m just evacuating the bad feelings.

So, “Oops” is my mantra for now. I am blessed to have the companionship and love of my animals. I’ll keep earning it, appreciating it and apologizing profusely as I wind my way out of bitterness and use them as a shining example of how to BE.

Today a student rode Dream Cat. This young woman has a classical Dressage background and fell in love with my little mare. Dream Cat has her half passes, collection, passage, flying changes and half canter pirouette – I worked with this mare when she was 3 to 5 years old and later after I Dressaged her sire… she will be 20 years old soon – I have loved her all her life. She is an old friend.

My student inspired me thinking about my past and my choices and my passions. I was an old deKunffy student, I was passionate about Dressage! I have a lifetime of study and practice and tons of photos and stories about Dressage and Combined Training and horse life… one dimensional, I’ve been told on many occasions.

But, I also rode Harleys. I worked for a Veterinary hospital. I worked for a company that built airplane parts for the military. I’m an amateur radio technician. I have run printing presses of all sizes and temperaments. I drove big trucks. I wrote for New Mexico Magazine, Organic Gardening, more equine and animal mags than I can count, newspapers, Journals…. I have sold paintings from galleries in 2 states… that all sounds pompous, but it is true and it flies in the face of those who see a life with horses as limited and trite.

And I’m not done. Several years of my life have been dedicated to caring for my Mother and I am so pleased that I did so. Yet now, I look at my passions and there are still more kicking around inside me. I’m in love with my 2 didgeridoos. Since playing the violin was taken from me by an accident, I had spent the decades thinking I had no music to make myself. I was wrong.

The didges challenge me and please me. I have moved from being in love with an Australian (yet still am…) to being near falling in love with Australia. I love New Mexico, but New Mexico doesn’t mind if I also love a very similar energy continent! I have visions when I hit resonance with my didges and I dream now of silver rings and spirals and red earth…

I saw my own spirit in a dream the other night and tried to draw her. She is that young one inside me who knows all the secrets because the world didn’t disappoint her. She is my true self and she can ride a Harley, suture a wound or run an IV, double clutch an unsynchronized 8 gear tilt cab, print glossy posters on an old Solna, tap out S O S on a spark gap if necessary and, to my amazement – play a didgeridoo! She is me.

I am so glad I found her again – I think we all need to find our spirit selves!!

I believe that our deepest love and fascination is held safely in storage deep inside of us when life is biting our heels, clouding our perspective and grinding away any sense of confidence. Just under the surface, our passion lives. I refuse to be afraid to follow mine (even if I end up on a cargo ship to Oz…) – that spirit, that passion hides when necessary to keep it alive. When it rises up from its hiding place and looks us square in all three eyes, we are obligated to love it, embrace it, dance with it and share it.

I’m thinking about which horses I need to be riding for my own joy and I’m trying so hard to get circular breath on the bamboo didge that is the hardest to play (and therefor the most interesting to me… hmmmm). I’m starting a book by my cousin that is deeply pertinent. I’m going through my “stuff” and culling what is redundant. I’m letting my re-discovered spirit-self direct me in the same way she has all my life, through my heart.

And tonight I drop on the sofa after my brother took me out for supper. I am weary! I taught lessons from 8:30 AM to 3:30 PM, non-stop today. It’s good. It’s hard. I remember being so strong… I will be again. I remember being so brave… I still am 🙂

I love Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. I thought about it this morning as I found two large towels for my soaking in T or C at the hot springs. My body and my soul needed to slip deeply into the geothermal pool as if returning to an earthly womb where my senses would shift if only for that hour.

As I left Cruces, I stopped for petrol and went to the Subway sandwich shop where there are $2.00 cold cut subs right now. I am vegetarian… I asked the girl if the cold cut sub came with cheese. It did. So, I asked if I could get that sub without the cold cuts. “That’s a veggie delight, it’s $3.50” she replied. But it would cost less to make the cold cut one without the cold cuts… nope, that’s a veggie delight she repeated three times. The man behind me laughed and shook his head. Feeling like Jack Nicholson and getting close to yelling, I decided to throw my hands up and leave. Getting the sandwich and pulling off the meat wouldn’t work for me.

On the road with plenty of gas, I settled in listening to Collective Soul for the one hour drive north up Interstate 25. It has been a cold day (I just got my thick, winter socks as the office is chilly!) and the men at the border patrol check waved me on as they stood outside rubbing their hands together and shifting foot to foot. The cruise control makes it so the truck uses barely any fuel for the trip and a one hour soak is only $9.00… for a senior…..  it was worth the time and the cost to do this today.

At the bath house, I chose the hottest water in the “tub” at 112 degrees. Inside the room, I stripped and set my bottle of cold water by the hot water. Drinking to stay hydrated is of paramount importance. Then, I worked my way down the steps gradually as my body “melted” into the relaxation of steaming, mineral saturated bliss.

The hot water from deep in the earth flows through the pool constantly, staying fresh and very hot. Steam wafted on top of the water. There is a heavy, knotted rope to hold as you descend the steps, walk around on the smooth river stones that fill the bottom of the tub or float on your back, submerging aching parts. I sat upon progressively deeper steps as I let myself get accustomed to the heat. When your chest is submerged, it can become hard to breathe, so you must raise up now and then for a minute or two.

I get out a couple of times during the hour to lie on the bench and do self Reiki. Today, I got a little dizzy at one point, so I wrapped up in the towels to sweat out toxins for 10 minutes. Back in the water, I did walkabout on the stones – that actually helped me heal a heel spur a while back….

With the ceiling fan exchanging air (there are lots of vents in the room) and the lung clearing steam to breathe, my whole body felt better. The hour passed too quickly.

On the drive home, Collective Soul again playing, I was enchanted by the landscape. I love New Mexico so much. T or C is a community built up around the two large lakes on the Rio Grande river. I watched the different mountain ranges distant and near as I drove home. I knew an old man from Mexico (in his 80’s at that time) who traveled by foot all over both countries and knew where he was by the mountains – he did not read or write. He could track animals and read the sky.

The hot water has a good amount of lithium in it and I felt so great driving home. I had to shift off of the heater to fresh, colder air each time I felt sleepy – although I have never fallen asleep driving, these recent days have worn me out and anything, it seems, is possible! Here at home tonight, I’m drinking hot cinnamon tea by the potful. I had a red enchilada (my comfort food), actually eating something for supper. And I will return, as the song says, to wanting to learn “wisdom, trust & truth”… in a little while… after I process all these feelings and see who I am again.