Author Archives: stablewomen

There is an old Tom Baker episode of Doctor Who where the people on a grounded space ship keep replacing parts over and over and say that “we just must remain patient” and the Doctor says, “too much patience gets you nowhere”… he knows that the ship, sitting for years, is capable of flight.

I’ve thought about that the past few months. I used to be sort of famous for being patient. I could work with students others could not, work with horses others did not want to handle, stand in long lines telling myself that I was being protected from something. My practices of meditation and Yoga were sources, I believed, of my patience.

Enter, into my life, a long series of disappointments, tragedies and a big chunk of confusion over these past few months and the patience flag becomes one of surrender – white and waving frantically at the back of my consciousness like a beacon screaming, “I give up, I need to rest, I don’t understand”. I feel like I need to be patient a little longer and then everything will magically explain itself and I will nod in understanding like some Katharine fashioned bobble head.

Nope. No more. The ship is capable of flight. This captain is ready to fight her way out of the miasma of doubt and second guessing that grounded the whole thing in the first place. My will be done. My life, my dreams.

It’s time to leap forward. I did a lot of: it needs to perfect, I need to get it right before I publish it, use it, change it – and now I just need to get things done. We were working on collected trot in a lesson today. My student had to send her horse “forward, forward, upward, upward” I kept “chanting” to her. And, “Dance, dance lower back” to get the suspension of stride and elegance of a dance with lightness. They did it. Horse and rider were truly lovely. Forward, Upward. That’s the way to collect ones life and dreams and dance with them.

I had a friend, years ago, who criticized everything I did. I drank a soft drink – “Gotta have that sugar, don’t you!”; I gave her shower gel for her birthday (it said, in French “douche”) – “Oh I don’t douche” as she handed the gift back to me… really!? I said that it was French for shower… I stayed patient too long while being rudely treated where it was never deserved. There could never have been a close friendship there – too much patience got me nowhere.

So, nope. No more. This ship is capable of flight! When I start to mount a horse, I make certain his legs, his hooves are standing squarely and he is ready to have my weight swing aboard. This is properly applied patience. If the horse does not want to stand quietly, I just have him make small circles around me, walking, until he wants to stop. Then I try to mount again. I will continue to send him on tiny circles when he refuses to stand until he finally relaxes and decides that standing for me is much easier than going ’round and ’round. I remain patient. I teach him to be patient. Sometimes, it is very appropriate. The potential beneficial outcome is well worth the waiting.

Some things, though, are not going to turn out lovely enough to balance the effort or agony involved in getting to them. I have simply got to get this through my head and hone my intuition to better sense the varied outcomes in all the relationships and situations I face. Information makes that easier. Vacuums tend to elicit either anger or submission.

So, nope. No more. My ship is capable of flight. I will have infinite patience with a new, beginning rider. I will have infinite patience for a frightened student or horse. I will be patient with myself learning to play the guitar and the didgeridoos. I will have no patience for anyone who hurts an animal, a person or me (physically or emotionally). I will always be an “open book” in this world. I will newly protect my deepest core while remaining honest and open as well. It can be done.

So all I am saying tonight is that we all must weigh each situation and choose just how long we can put up with something or go without something before we say, “Enough!” – and just fly our ship on down to the next adventure. Too much patience can get you nowhere. The ship is capable of flight.

I’ve heard that so often. In the cafe’, others at a table talking about a colt or a pony another has for sale. At the feed store, looking at flyers on the bulletin board… over and over, the idea of “breaking” a horse remains the standard description of a mount brought into utilitarian service through a process of demeaning and deleting his own sense of self preservation and self worth. Of course, I live in the southwestern USA and old habits die hard here. So do old expressions.

I use terms like “gentle” (I gentled him myself), “schooled”, brought him along, started under saddle – I have a list of less aggressive and less demoralizing labels. But… broken can be the more accurate definition of what some humans have done to some horses. It is even descriptive of what some people do to other people. Where does this need for subjugation come from!?

I really believe it is ego based and fueled by fear. If one is attracted to the idea of subduing a 1200 pound, flight based animal, one might just have a rude awakening with the initial encounter. The person who steps into horsemanship to “master the beast” will be shocked by the independent, noble, quick moving equine whose true nature is cooperation and curiosity. This person will feel frightened by the extensive wisdom, almost telepathic insight and soul shaking beauty of the horse.

That fear will challenge one and the deep insecurities that rise to the surface will either bring a change of focus – to see through different eyes – or will create a monster determined to extinguish the light shining before him. Ego feels threatened by anything it cannot understand, control or dismiss.

When I overhear a conversation or read a flyer and wonder about the “broke” status proclaimed for an equine… I have to wonder whose job it will become to eventually “fix” the horse… so often, on a small scale, it has been mine.

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.