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The In Between Places

I was watching the sun light fade and night fall around us in the stable yard tonight… thinking about those “in between” times and spaces and ideas. Instead of just being black or white, the gray areas of dusk and dawn; of the beach between the hills and the sea; of life and what we call death. All of these are not just transitions, but places in their own right with a reality to be experienced, certainly, if not savored.

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I also see the value of the dynamic approaches of horsemanship styles. And the multiple ways in which good health is preserved by natural methods. Those in between places serve to blend ideas and make useful all manner of things we might miss with a rigid mind-set. I love using Australian saddles for my riding lessons and I tell students that they are like a combination between western and english styles.

My Mother used to say she put sugar in her tea to make it sweet and lemon to make it sour, but the combination was better than either. The in between places are of blending and easing from one thing to another. The in between places are where we can linger, experiencing that gentle shift.

From this life to the next life is an in between place where I think elderly beings visit and sometimes linger when deep in sleep or daydreaming. Spring eases us into summer; autumn eases us into winter.

If we are going to climb to 14,000 feet, we linger at 8,000, then 10,000 feet, making an in between place to adjust to the altitude.

So, I wonder why we would expect such immediate, total obedience from an animal, a person or ourselves when faced with a change or a task? Depending upon the degree of the shift and how much change is required, there needs to be an in between place where the transition can flow with grace. When that cannot happen and a sudden or violent shift occurs, it is shocking and that shock will need to be addressed one way or another later on.

Being decisive is powerful. Being decisive is clear and planned and directed. It can be immediate in its application from the space of transitioning, but cannot act like the cracking end of a whip that then ricochets aimlessly. The in between place holds the form of the concept, decision or path and allows its unfolding without interruption or distortion. It may only hold it for a moment or it may hold the form for years.

My Mother likes limes and mint in her tea now. I ride and school horses in bitless bridles. We leave giant Yuccas in our turn out (that also serves as an arena) because we like Yuccas (and riding a circle around a giant “cactus” will sure keep a rider from leaning inward!) and the area becomes a kind of transition place between the round pen and riding out on the trail. An in between place…

We kind of “ride between worlds” at Dharmahorse –  taking what we find the best from many styles and methodologies in horsemanship and in healing. And we help horses and people shift gently from place to place; idea to idea. The world is full of possibilities.

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Feast or famine…

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We have suffered through a few years of drought here in New Mexico. Our farmers having only one chance during the year for irrigation water from the system off of a dammed lake to our north… pumping well water to sustain thirsty crops and orchards in between. Until this past week.

From parched to flooded, our landscape has changed to wet red earth and tumbling skies with heavy, sopping clouds all black and arriving every hour. Horses whose hooves were cracked and dry from the hot sand now are standing submerged and in some cases, knee deep. Literally.

My boots have been sucked from my feet – feet landing in cold squish mud before I realized they had become shoe-less. My hay under tarps has fared well enough, thank goodness – because the possibility of getting more will not exist until the skies clear and riding lessons can resume to bring in some money!

The berms I had built for my Mom’s mobile home (having been approved by the county and the ETZ; much pride in that for me for the struggle of moving earth by shovel and hoe) have diverted the floods to the “ponding area” which was my arena and turn out for the horses. A pond it is at the moment. A slick, deep one. The horses stand, bored, under their roofs where, yesterday, I dumped pine shavings (they are all used up now) to raise the ground and add some dryness. The dark storms continue to roll in, like clockwork. Day and night, the water drenches us and heals the desert.

I am grateful. The inconvenience is short lived and tolerable, so far. The trees rejoice. The frogs sing in sudden lakes at decibels that are nearly painful. I watch the water rush down my kitchen window with a cup of tea in my hand. I am grateful.Image

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The Well of Experiences

Your horse’s experiences are like drops of water in a vessel. If his well is filled with mostly positive experiences, he will expect positive things in new situations. If his well is filled with negative “drops” – negative experiences, he will expect negative things in new situations. Just as you can over fill a vessel with drops of water, replacing what was held within it; you can also add positive “drops” to your horse’s “well” until the negatives have been replaced. Unfortunately, negative experiences are also drops in his well of experiences and even the most positively, lovingly handled horse can be changed by brutality. Be fully aware always of the types of signals you give to your horse.Image

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