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I was at a party at Christmas time and a man I was talking with asked me if I always remembered when someone was critical of me and rarely remembered compliments. Hmmm, how did he guess that? He’d had a good amount of wine and, as he was a consultant for businesses and well respected, I weighed the wine/wisdom thing and decided that I probably did need to reverse my choices to recall. But why he chose to say it to me bobbed around inside my head all evening. Was I that self deprecating in casual conversation? Could it be a question asked by him of every peep with which he mingled in social situations? That was likely. Just by some law of averages, it would likely be an appropriately thought provoking topic for most (especially women, I dare say).

Life rolled on and I actually took to heart my realization, provoked as it was, and allowed criticisms that stepped beyond constructive to slip unceremoniously through my outstretched fingers. Adios.

I dismissed complements as well. Until I paid attention to my own desire to praise others and the base of love from which it grew. If we point out to others the wonderful things they have, do and become, we improve the world. The “others” will endeavor to continue having, doing and becoming that which is wonderful. We can put ourselves in each others’ “places” and see through empathetic eyes.

I think about odd things a lot… I used to have extremely long hair. It was heavy. It kept me warm in the winter. When I look at horses with extremely long, thick manes, my first thought is about the weight carried on one side of the neck! I can empathetically imagine how the horse’s neck must change to hold itself in alignment while being constantly pulled to one side. I truly wonder if the horses with giant manes hurt from the forever downward pull.

I cut my hair really short last spring because the wind was whipping it into knots and slicing it across my face even when braided or banded. I was so hot underneath the hair that I just held it up above my head and cut across it… then had to get professional help. I now am growing back my personal “mane” and incorporating strands of my Majic, my sacred white horse’s tail into my strands.

I look at my hands now after dropping a stone onto one again tonight untarping hay and working lately in bitter cold without gloves (I lose dexterity…). My hands are really old. Crikey, they have worked so hard! I noticed how my Mum’s hands at 86 were younger looking than mine at 58… and I remember meeting a student’s husband many years ago whose hands were like porcelain and his nails manicured to perfection. It gave me the shivers. He also remarked about how he hated driving to work because he had to go past the east mesa (where I lived & now live again) where all the “trailer trash” lived… I lived in a mobile home then and live in one now. And back then he knew where and in what I lived. At that time, I entertained the notion of challenging him to arm wrestling or just grabbing him by the thumbs and twisting. Of course, I did neither.

Tonight, I rub arnica gel into my bruises and practice playing my guitar all the while recognizing that this guitar practice is increasing the dexterity of my hands. Big smile.

What goes on inside the heads of people who deliberately hurt others? I’m thinking about the hurt caused by words and attitudes (or even the lack of words) rather than physical assaults… I wonder if people full of pain think that by unloading pain onto others they can lighten their loads? The truth is, what they accomplish is the Karmic equivalent of paddle ball (remember those? I spent a lot of time putting arnica on my face…). I have shoved my foot into my mouth a couple of times recently, but they were innocent mistakes and I felt awful after I realized, each time, what I had said. Yet, I likely did cause some harm.

So I guess the big question is about intention. And the big answer is about what was intended. That road to hell thing…

Only the individual knows what was intended. I’ve seen enough passive-aggressive behavior in my adulthood to write a book. Animals, on the other hand, never get snarky, abusive or off-handed in their intentions. Animals are always real, always honest. We may not always like what we hear from an animal, but it will never be veiled in cruel or ulterior motives.

I settle in this Christmas night with my always honest dogs and listen to my noble horses banging their feed tubs around in the dark. They are clearly searching for scraps of hay they themselves shoved out of the feeders earlier… I have one gelding (Grits) whose feeder is always on its side when I bring the hay for breakfast and for supper. I stand by his pen with his hay and say, “turn it right” and he pushes it upright with his muzzle. He amazes and scares me a little (what else does he comprehend!). This is a good life. My intentions are always good. My outcomes may not always be, but I have never meant to hurt a single soul nor cause anyone discomfort.

It is Christmas Eve – I simply had to get groceries for my brother, the dogs and myself. So I braved going into the city and survived rather well, returning with most of what I set out to find at the Natural Grocer, Better Life and (sigh, I have to for some things) WalMart. It was a circus. So I decided to try to enjoy the show.

As I drove around, I decided to push my boundaries today and listen to Counting Crows. You see, I had stopped listening to them for personal reasons… and they were one of my favorite bands because of a few select songs. I couldn’t bear to hear one song in paritcular and it was sad because it was a very favorite. Yet, if I heard it start on my MP3 player or the radio, I was quick to shift to something else. Silly girl. I let emotions change something within me.

The reason for the CC glitch inside of me does not matter here – the reason for my inability to drink my favorite tea (Darjeeling) is something I can share without affecting anyone else. I bought an Arabian colt and named him Darjeeling. This was years ago. I raised him, started him under saddle, planned to leave him a stallion, but I moved with him to work in EAP. I gelded him and adored him and planned to keep him forever.

I ended up in southern Arizona and ended up homeless briefly with Darjeeling and my older gelding, Dorje’, at friends’ at the organic herb farm commune. I moved into the pasture with my horses. I had awesome experiences with the most wonderful people and unbelievable place and when my Mum in New Mexico was having trouble, I returned here to help her heal. I gave my Darj and Dorje’ to the people I loved so much. My horses, now their horses, lived on hundreds of acres of pasture in a beloved herd – I “did good”!!

But, my favorite tea became too difficult to drink. I missed Darjeeling so much. But, the boys were together; Darj (place of the thunderbolt), Dorje’ (the Thunderbolt!).

Today, in the city, I bought a box of Darjeeling tea.

Tonight, I will have hot tea. I will listen some more to August and Everything (I just turned it on) – I will no longer let things take away what I love just because I feel pain or sorrow…….. “Round Here, we always stand up straight, Round Here, something radiates”… I think I keep healing 🙂

I’m getting braver. I can feel it. And I love Darjeeling so much. And I will try to understand all that has happened. (Dorje’ passed over last year, in his 30’s)… and I still love….

I got home from a nice supper in the city and pulled on my very cold pajamas (Yoga clothes, actually), shivering for sure. For a moment I thought, “I could put them in the clothes dryer for a minute…”, but body heat worked quickly!

It reminded me of a Mom and daughter I taught at White Sands Missile Range way back when they had stables for residents. This family had two nice horses and, when it was bitter cold, the Mom would put the horse blankets in the clothes dryer to warm them up! Then they drove quickly (the 2 blocks) to their barn. The horses were pampered and they loved it. I admired the love the family expressed for all of their animals. Wow… thinking about them touches my heart again.

And tonight I pulled Wally’s blanket (not from the dryer, I’m sad to say) on him before I left; last night we rugged Dream Cat after she taught a lesson right before dark. It’s a balancing act determining when to cover a horse. I use my instincts and my own feeling about the temperature, wind and/or precipitation. In my house now, the furnace has the dogs and me all cozy finally.

I ate rich food I’m not used to, so I ate papaya tablets. I was out in public, so I took some osha root tincture and sprayed colloidal silver “up” my nose. I’ll take some vitamin C before bed, and magnesium. Staying healthy is a process. And getting warm now feels extra nice.

It’s funny, though, how quickly the cold starts seeping into the house after the furnace kicks off… and how soon it has to kick on again to maintain the 68 degrees I set. I had an architect friend design how to do a “straw bale wrap” on my little ground set mobile home. THAT would make a humongous difference. That would be a humongous project!

So, tonight I cozy up with the dogs. I had some nice wine and feel sleepy, especially as I get warmer. I think about how wonderful it must feel for horses whose people cherish them so much that they warm their blankets before putting them on. That’s love.

It’s Winter Solstice here on the northern hemisphere.

We will begin having gradually longer days, shorter nights as we roll toward summer. I have to admit, I am looking forward to warmer days. I know, I know, I live in a temperate area and should never complain… and I’m not so much complaining as just giving a sigh of relief that the days will get longer now. Gradually…

The long nights and short days mean that students in school cannot have late afternoon lessons. Everything gets piled up onto the weekend. I have enough horses to do a lot of lessons without stressing them on Saturday and Sunday – but there is only one of me.

An indoor, lighted arena would be a solution. I am lucky to have the funky roofs and windbreaks I built that my horses call shelters. I am not complaining. They are sheltered. Yet, I end this year of 2014 wondering what to put on my vision board. Do I want the 10 acres beside me? (YES, I do, but that would be a monstrous amount of work to fence and set up!)… Do I want an apprentice? (YES, but I would rather have a partner)… Do I want to win the lottery? (of course)

Tonight, I will sit on the Earth and contemplate the past year – and it was a whopper… in terms of emotional, physical, mental and soul challenges. Crikey! I got through it mostly intact!

In a little bit, my brother and I will head up the mountain to release our Mum’s ashes. We chose this auspicious day. I hope I have the courage to see it through.

I know so many people that I care about who have faced challenging stuff this past year. I sure hope we can all have a lighter, happier 2015! I like the quote, “Just show up, be kind, be brave, rest, try again” (don’t know who said it), it has been my mantra for a while now! It is written on the side of my tack room.

Here is my vision from this past summer.

Warmth will return again, in our world, in our hearts. And, in some incredible stroke of brilliance, I get to go to Hawaii next month. I know, I know, how incredible is THAT! My cousin is making this possible. I know it will heal me. My tribe of students and families will care for the stable and I know my horses will be safe and loved. What an awesome start to 2015 for me… my gratitude flag is flying.

So, Just show up, be kind, be brave, rest, try again Happy Solstice everyone.

It is so interesting to me how my heart is able to embrace so many beings and feel profound joy, sadness and passion all at once sometimes. I had an experience yesterday in which I found the best of myself again thanks to a group of people and horses and one remarkable man, all of whom I now love totally and without reservation.

I told my brother that it all felt as if I was from Neptune, living on Mars, and a group of beings from Neptune came to visit.

There are many photographs on https://www.facebook.com/Dharmahorse of the one day I spent with this group bound for Florida from California – driving horses with wagons that are wheelchair accessible! You see, this touched me specifically, deeply because my Grandfather Hodel lost his leg at the hip as a 10 year old boy. He built a newspaper corporation back east and took care of his family of 3 sons and 1 daughter all on his own with great strength and courage. His story is remarkable. He dug a garden by hopping onto a shovel with his one leg; he walked his whole life with crutches, even on icy streets… even on glaciers in Europe…

I fell through a window when I was 13 years old and severed all the nerves, tendons and blood vessels at my wrist – I have often, in a small sense, felt that sinking “can I do this?” feeling when faced with something as simple as carrying a tray of drinks across a room. And sometimes, well, often, I dropped things.

So, yesterday, I met a man who has the courage, love, strength and vision that my grandfather must have had! Michael’s vision is manifest in a program that allows people with disabilities to ride, in wagons, behind beautiful horses through Nature – healing and bringing joy to SO many. What an awesome thing!

I also met a man with 9 children and 9 Friesian horses brought from Europe for the Caravan across the country! I met women with Morgan horses and miniature horses, a couple with a Gypsy wagon and Percherons, a farrier with her mule, a man I just adored in a long coat and Aussie hat who said that he “was mean to everyone” and laughed all the time and was never mean and brought me an extra sweat shirt when we headed out driving to the river and the weather turned bitter cold and rainy. I met a man and spoke to his wife in Canada who teach barefoot horse care and loving horses… I had the best day ever.

So, I fell in love with a group of people and horses who felt like family. And now, they leave… on their special journey. So far this year, a lot of beings I love/loved have “left”. I don’t know what I am being taught here – I’ve cried a LOT lately. Yet, I have been saved by the compassionate Veterinarian who came to ease my little 21 year old dog’s passing. Saved by (I suspect a wild sort of man) a person I loved who was there for me while my mother was fading before her passing… sadly, I love wild men (wink). He disappeared. Two horses I knew and loved passed over. Dogs of friends… dogs I also loved… what a strange year. Of course, my mother’s death has been the most difficult loss. Still, I have this amazing life. I sure appreciate my horses, my dogs and my friends.

And I will keep falling in love. And continue to love all those I’ve “fallen” for 🙂

My cousin is making it possible to visit him next month in Hawaii. He has no idea how much this means to me. And I know, I’ll cry when I am the one who leaves Hawaii! But, the saddest thing, I think, would be to never love at all and never cry from the pain and passion that love ignites. So, my thanks go out to everyone who has caused a tear to roll down my face. It’s always worth it.

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.