Sending Galahad

May12

Last night in class my mentor suggested that the most effective change I could make about the way I interact with my horses is to develop Galahad’s gas pedal—his willingness to get up and MOVE when I ask him to. I have been getting better about it. Just this semester, something in me has clicked and suddenly I’m able to use my body language to move him, not just the whip or reed. That’s been enormously helpful.

So I can get him moving…but then, as is so clear from my class videos, I quit asking as soon as he moves away. I don’t follow through. As a result, Galahad has figured out that I won’t really ask him to go very far, and he doesn’t take me too seriously. The game, as far as he’s concerned, is to go away only as far as he absolutely has to. Then, almost immediately, he circles back. He loves games.

Well. Today I went out to spend some time hanging out with him in the pasture before his appointment with the vet for the annual “teeth-and-sheath” event. Unfortunately, I had treats in my pocket, and Mr. Nosy found them. He would not leave me alone. What a pest he was! So I realized I needed—wanted!—to send him off. “Great,” I thought. “I’ll practice!”

Ahem. I sent him off, and just like always, quit as soon as he got about 20 feet away. Yes, I know—I was going to be more insistent and follow through. SO hard to break old habits. And yup, sure enough, he came right back.

And just then—I could hardly believe the timing!—Charlie, the Bossman in the geldings pasture, decided to move Galahad’s friend Dancer off. And I mean, Charlie MOVED HIM OFF. Head snaking, teeth bared, full speed ahead: Dancer took off like his life depended on it (as it might have done). Charlie kept after him for fifty yards or so, then skidded to a stop like the good Quarter Horse he is. Then he stood there, watching Dancer continue to run. After a while, he started grazing.

I’m telling you, the timing was SO suspicious. I swear, Charlie was showing ME how to do the job! Point taken, Charlie my friend.

So I took off after Galahad, doing my best to emulate my “teacher.” Galahad was shocked! But he did run. I chased him a lot farther than usual, then stood there and glared at him. When he dropped his head to graze, still watching me, I finally turned away, but I did NOT back up.

A few minutes later, Galahad started walking back toward me, just like he always does. So I chased him off again! This time he went faster and stayed away a little longer, but he still came ambling back pretty quickly. One more time, I made him run away and stood there, daring him to come toward me.

Finally, he got the message. I waited quite a while, and he didn’t come back, didn’t look at me directly, just stood “over there” and ate grass.

When the time came to get him for his appointment, I walked over to him, greeted him, and walked away. He did NOT follow. Nope. He stood there looking at me, head down, waiting to see what I was going to do. Good boy! When I called him over, he hesitated a second, then came slowly over to me, dropped his head into the halter, and followed me quietly out of the pasture.

Wonder if I can remember Charlie’s example the next time? I will try. Because I have no doubt that Charlie will be watching.

Horses are such wonderful teachers!

Leading “Tarkin”

May4

I so enjoy my days at the Rescue Ranch. These days I’m creating the adoption videos, and it’s such fun capturing something of each horse’s personality along with documenting where they are in their training and how they move.

It was an especially interesting today. Little “Tarkin,” who has come SO FAR in the last few months since his rescue (he was a little stray stallion, apparently never handled), is now learning to trot under saddle. He is much calmer, but not quite comfortable around people other than Sarah, our trainer, and the apprentices. I’m still a little scary.

After Sarah finished their ride and stepped off, I asked Tarkin if he was ready to say hello to me yet (the good old “cowboy handshake”). No, not quite yet, he said. So I backed off. As I backed away, he took half a step forward toward me for whatever reason, so I asked for another. No, not so much…too scary to approach directly when asked.

Sarah handed me the reins. Since they were attached to a bit, and he’s very new to bits, I made sure to put absolutely no pressure on the reins, other than the fact that I was balancing them on one finger. Then I asked him to step toward me (by backing up from directly in front of him, leaving my hand where it was so as not to pull him). No, he said, that was still too scary, so I dropped back to stand near his withers.

From there, I took a couple of steps back and to the side, to draw him toward me. That, he felt like he could do; and once he took a couple of sidesteps in my direction, I used my body language to suggest that he might walk forward with me. And he did!

Slowly, at first. Then I said “whoa,” which he knows, and stopped my feet. He stopped right with me. After a few seconds I suggested with my body that we walk forward again, and he was willing to do that, mostly. I had to draw him toward me to the side a couple of times after we’d stop, but then he decided walking and stopping was just fine.

I was really happy, for a couple of reasons. First, because this was NOT natural horsemanship, the way I was taught. There was no deliberate “pressure-release” here, but rather, communication in the way horses communicate with each other. I’d make a request, and he could decide whether or not to comply. What really delighted me about this was the fact that I’ve learned enough to be able to facilitate this dialog.

Yes, a horse who’s learned to follow a lead rope and/or reins and bit will naturally be more inclined to follow a moving person when he’s wearing a bridle than he might otherwise. Would he have followed me as willingly if he’d been at liberty? Probably not. But I bet I could have persuaded him, given a little time for him to get used to me. And how cool this little old lady was able to do it at all!

The second reason I was so happy about this little interaction was just the fact that I was able to bypass my “natural” tendency to “make it happen” and, instead, just let things unfold. It’s taken quite a while for me to get to this point. As I’ve said often, natural horsemanship techniques come easily to me because that paradigm was the way I was raised. Un-learning something so basic isn’t all that easy after 64 years of practice and reinforcement!

So the fact that this spooky little guy would feel comfortable and willing to come along with me with only suggestions (made in a way that he instinctively understands), just pleases me to no end!

Woohoo! The old gal’s learning something!

Courting Nevada

Apr30

The vet came out to see Nevada the other day to check out some possible causes for the violent itching that she’s suffered from, off and on, as long as we’ve had her. It wasn’t pleasant for her—it involved shaving squares on her neck, skin scrapings, worming, shots. She stayed calm and willing during the interaction, which seems amazing but is normal for her.

The next afternoon I went out to the pasture to get her. True to form after an unpleasant experience the day before, Nevada let me know she hadn’t enjoyed it. She’s always been this way—never complaining during whatever the not-fun event is, but being hard to catch the next day.

This time, she came to me in the pasture, all right. She quickly checked me over to see if I had dinner or treats (nope). Then she was willing to follow me, without a halter, to the gate of the summer pasture and go through it into the winter pasture. Once there, though, she wouldn’t stay with me—she trotted off toward the main gate to the barn and arena area, where I usually feed her before we work on anything. I just let her go.

When I didn’t follow her to the gate, she watched me for a while (I was walking the other way, pretending to ignore her). Then she ran back toward her girlfriends, whinnying. I didn’t chase her, but just kept on pulling weeds and “ignoring” her. She stopped near the fence between her and her buddies and started grazing.

I’m beginning to enjoy the challenge of figuring out how to get my horse to want to follow my lead, especially when they’re “not in the mood,” distracted, or disinterested, without resorting to making them do it in the natural horsemanship way. That way is effective, all right, but this one is way more fun. “Courting” is a great Carolyn Resnick concept; Linda Salinas, one of Carolyn’s certified trainers, has a blog post on the topic here.

So I decided to court my mare.

After pulling weeds at the other end of the pasture for ten minutes or so, I walked slowly toward her, stopping every time she twitched an ear or looked up at me, in order to show her that I understood and respected her boundaries. She didn’t move her feet.

Finally I worked myself around to the front of her and went up and said hello, offering my hand. She snuffled me willingly enough, but she went back to grazing, and I backed away. A few minutes later I greeted her again, and again backed away. At that point she started slowly and casually taking one step at a time toward me while she grazed, and each time she did, I backed up an equal amount. I wanted to draw her to me, but not in an obvious or insistent way. This felt respectful: I wanted to wait until she was ready and wanted to come to me.

Finally she put her head up, looked at me intently for a few seconds, and walked over so I could put her halter on. It was her idea at that point, not mine, and after that there were no problems between us.

It was such an interesting and rewarding experience. It felt like a real conversation: She got to tell me how displeased she was with what had happened the day before, and I could respond that I understood and didn’t blame her for it. Once she felt “heard,” she was willing to come to me. I’m certain that’s not exactly how Nevada perceived it, but I do believe her version wouldn’t be too different.

It feels like magic to relate to my horses in this way. There’s no confrontation, no force, no “well, that’s fine, but you have to come with me.” They always have the option to say “no.” Sure, there are times (vet visits, for instance) where I will have to override their wishes, but that won’t be a problem, because in the majority of instances, they get to choose. I can always pick a different game, or a different approach: one that will be easy and fun for them to get involved in.

I’m so happy about the way Nevada and I handled this situation. I think it will make a big difference in our relationship, and that’s wonderful!

“Leading” Galahad

Apr23

Yesterday afternoon I wanted to work with Galahad in the west pasture—the one they are resting at the moment. Open space to work, and no other horses to try to eat his treats. I brought him in at liberty, with no halter to control him. That meant that there could be no “cheating” on my part. This was about me figuring out a way to get him to want to walk with me over to the south fence where I had set up the little piles of hay and soaked grass hay/alfalfa cubes (this time of year, the horses have ZERO interest in plain hay).

I knew he would be very happy to work with me over by the fence once he discovered that there were yummy hay cubes involved. The challenge was to get him to walk with me over to that area instead of going where he wanted to go: to the main pasture gate and out to where I usually feed and work with him.

When he first followed me into the west pasture, Galahad immediately started walking toward the main gate. I stopped him (which he does willingly) and asked him to walk with me toward where the treat piles were set up. He followed for a few steps, then refused and put on his “stubborn face.” That’s the expression he often uses when you first ask him to do anything that’s not his own idea.

Galahad isn’t categorically unwilling to do what’s asked, by any means. The thing is, if he perceives it as an order, he will almost always balk and get sulky. I really believe that’s a leftover response to the way he was trained initially, by the so-called “trainer” who was his original owner (yes, the one who starved him nearly to death). My own trainer used the same kinds of Natural Horsemanship methods (though with way more skill and understanding), and Galahad seems to think that anything that seems like “training” and not “fun” is something he needs to refuse, if he can. “No” is his default setting.

That’s why Carolyn Resnick’s methods work so very well for this horse: One of the most important ideas in her method is to make the training fun for both horse and human. Galahad responds to that beautifully!

(Disclaimer: I am NOT certified by Carolyn Resnick, and anything I talk about or show here is MY INTERPRETATION of what she teaches, not something she has approved. If you like what you see, I urge you to take one of her online courses, or go to a clinic like the one we’re offering this June here in Missouri with Certified Master Trainer Teddie Ziegler.)

So my task yesterday was to figure out a way to make Galahad WANT to walk with me instead of checking out each pile of poop on his way to the main gate. It was a fun challenge! I’ve got a little video clip of the process–quite by accident, and only because I had the camera running when I went to get him. Watch it full-screen if you can.

The first thing I did was walk away and ignore him for a while. He knows he needs me to open the gate, so he stayed pretty close. I just hung out, following him slowly but pulling weeds and doing my own thing, not pestering him. I tried catching his eye and drawing him to me, but he was having none of that. Too “natural horsemanship” for him. I needed to be more subtle.

I also knew that if I tried too hard to influence WHERE he walked right then, he’d take off at a trot and head directly for the main gate. So I just waited. After a while I went and stood beside him, letting him look around and graze. When I could feel his attention shift to me, I moved a little ways away from him and resumed pulling weeds.

It took a while, but he had turned his body and was keeping an eye on me. I continued to wait.

Eventually, he moved closer and I was able to call him over. I wanted to use a draw to get him to walk with me, not to push him, but I was on the wrong side; so after a while I moved carefully to his other side, turned slightly away from him, and he came along with me. Yippee! Still had to be careful, though, and wait when he stopped to look at something or other. But suddenly he was willing!

Times like this, when all the study and observation I’ve done pays off, are just magic. Even such a little thing as this is so special to me, because it means that the bond my horse and I have, the relationship we’re building, is growing. My Galahad loves me, there is no doubt, in the way horses love. But horses are not dogs, and “obedience” and “leadership” have different meanings to them. How amazing it is to know how to time my requests just right and express them in a language that he understands, so that he’s willing to follow my leadership!

So yesterday turned out to be a fun game for both of us, just like Carolyn suggests. No pressure, no time frame, and staying very much in the moment. Woohoo!

Wow…. This is a dream come true for me.

Galahad and the White Dog

Apr17

Part One: My Horse

[Note: the first White Dog post is here, on my other blog. This one will make more sense if you read that one first.]

Let’s start with a video made a couple of weeks ago for an online class. The task involved getting my horse to come to me, instead of going immediately to a pile of goodies placed in the center of the arena. When he comes to me, I take him to the goodies and he gets to eat. Galahad knows this game from past classes, and he likes it. He’s so good at it that he doesn’t even LOOK at the pile of treats—he just comes right over to me.

This time, for some reason, I interpreted the exercise differently, and decided it was about keeping the horse away from the pile. I wanted him to stop and wait and still not try to get to the treats. Why did I change the rules? I’m honestly not sure. It seemed clear to me at the time….

So poor Galahad circled me, round and round, very slowly, stopping occasionally to ask if he could come over to me so that I’d take him in for a treat. Every time he’d stop and ask, I’d send him off again. I just stood there, not even looking at him, policing the pile of goodies, keeping him away and refusing to let him come to me when he asked.

After 15 minutes, Galahad did stop. He stood there, looking pretty sullen, and did not attempt to go to the pile. Then, in utter frustration, he threw a very quiet hissy fit. I’ve NEVER seen him behave this way. At the time, I was almost happy that I’d gotten that reaction. Why? Dunno….

Eventually, I decided he’d been good long enough, and I called him over to me and took him to get the treats. He came, but he wasn’t happy with me; he wasn’t enjoying this game at all.

But I was so pleased with the video! I had kept my horse away from the treats and gotten him to stop and stand still! Yay!

On the conference call, my friend the instructor pointed out another way of viewing the situation—from Galahad’s perspective. Oh. Well. That looks quite a bit different. I was pretty shocked at this new viewpoint.

Had I been aware in the moment of the “game,” I would have seen the significance of Galahad’s “hissy fit”: He was NOT having fun doing what was supposed to be a fun exercise. But as usual, I wasn’t in the moment with my horse. Nope. I was in “trainer’s mind,” working to MAKE him stop and stand still. Furthermore, he had to stop without my influence—so I wasn’t even allowing him to get my attention when he asked for it. No wonder he had a fit! He must have been SO confused and frustrated—I had suddenly completely changed the rules of a game he knew well and really enjoyed.

OUCH.

Part Two: The Pain, Again

The last seven weeks have been a nightmare much of the time. The pain in my jaw and tongue returned on the third of March. Why? This time, I know the answer.

In February I started paying attention to the “Law of Attraction,” which in its simplest form just means that “like attracts like.” For years, I’ve known that people, things, and events show up in my life because of what I’ve always called “resonance.” People in our lives are there because there’s something in our experience or in our energy that is similar. We attract those whose life stories reflect our own in some way, or have similar themes. The Law of Attraction.

No problem with this—it’s just the way the world works. But enter Abraham-Hicks (Esther Hicks and the entity who call themselves Abraham), who specialize in large-scale events at which they share their patented inspirational messages on how to create our own reality.

Abraham-Hicks and their version of message has a pretty militant sound to it. Abraham, channeled by Esther Hicks, is a brilliant and inspirational speaker with a kind of take-no-prisoners approach. Control your thoughts; choose the best and highest thought in order to get “into the vortex” and manifest! Feel joy! That’s why you’re here—to experience joy! It’s up to you! The tone sounds just like my dad.

So I started controlling my thoughts, all right. I felt great! I felt joy! I monitored my thoughts at every moment and made sure I was feeling JOY! If anyone could get into the Vortex, I could—because I could monitor my thoughts!

Can you imagine someone hearing, “Be joyful!” and interpreting it as a command, with dire consequences for failure? No? Well, that’s exactly what I did. I drove myself nuts, policing my joy. But really, it’s not so surprising. That’s how I was raised. That’s how Arthur, my father, taught me. My dad was always DOING something, and it had to be perfect. No sitting around for him! Sitting around (and, presumably, experiencing joy) was a sign of sloth. And so we kids learned that we had to be busy. And oh, did I mention perfect, too? Yup. One “B” marring a report card full of “A’s” rated a scolding. I’m sure many of you know exactly what I mean.

So a few days into my “you will feel joy!” episode, I woke up in excruciating pain…again. It has gone on for nearly seven weeks now, and it’s just beginning to let up. A few days into it, I no longer cared about feeling joy. In fact, I couldn’t even imagine joy any more. All I could manage was to survive from one day to another. Once again, I found myself unable to eat, sleep, or talk. Anything creative was completely out of the question.

Part Three: Putting It All Together

Journal entry, April 15th:

Wow. The conference call last night was tough. I was so wrong about that video—I can really see that, now. But it fits a pattern, doesn’t it? It’s Kay-as-Arthur again, the Arthur who’s now living inside my head, the Arthur who taught me what the world was like and how to behave there. Arthur the Perfectionist, Arthur the Drill Sergeant, Arthur the Enforcer.

I still can’t get rid of the image of the White Dog. I’m certain that the dog has something to do with all this….

OMG: just now, a really scary understanding—that innocent, playful pup crushed beneath the wheels of my car; my own playful innocence also crushed. But what does the car represent?

And besides the white dog…. The pain this time began just as I was working—WORKING!— with the Abraham-Hicks stuff. Constantly policing myself, policing my joy, for Pete’s sake!

“Policing my joy”…. That image is the same one that was captured in the video of me and Galahad doing that exercise the other day. It could not be clearer.

There in the video is my poor Galahad responding as I probably did when I was a kid, when nothing I ever did was good enough for Dad…. And I just realized that Dad, if he ever thought about it (and he might not have ever done so until after he crossed over), would have been so sad to realize that the relationship between us wasn’t working the way he wanted; but he had no idea how to do it differently, or even that any different way existed….

The White Dog, crushed under the wheels of my car. My car—my way of moving through life. The dog, that happy innocence, crushed under the wheels of my way of being-in-the-world, which I inherited from Arthur, and he from his mother Anna, and she from (I suspect) a parent or grandparent. The saying in my family is, “There’s one in every generation.”

And me, little Kay, crushed under the weight of my father’s expectations. Wow.

That way of life, the way I was taught by my father, is relentless. “Relentless” is an excellent word for it. It never, EVER relents. There’s no relaxation, no peace, certainly no “let it be, let it unfold.”

After the accident with the dog, my Guides kept saying, “Some things cannot be prevented.” That’s true—on many levels. On this very personal level, it’s clear that with my current mindset, neither I nor Galahad (nor the unfortunate White Dog, for that matter) has any hope of anything changing. But now I can SEE what’s happening, and maybe, just maybe, I can make a change.

So anyway. Joy. Innocence. Trust. Three things that seem to have been lost to me as a child. Three things I want to retain and develop in my horses, and regain for myself. But that can’t be done by coercion, by policing, or by suddenly changing the rules.

I am so grateful for all the events that have helped me see and understand the full significance of the way I’ve always lived my life. If you don’t see something, you can’t change it.

So I’m going to change it…but calmly, quietly, by letting things flow.

Wow. What a funny place this life is, eh?

[Cross-posted on It’s an Alchemical Life.]

Covering the Knots

Feb26

I went by the barn yesterday afternoon to feed everybody. I was planning on staying only a very short time, but the day turned out so lovely (40+ degrees and sunny!) that I could hardly tear myself away. I took some video of me working a little bit with Galahad and Nevada on the halter but with a slack or draped lead line.

What fun! Even out in the open (video here), HRH sticks pretty close with the rope draped over her back and only a tiny touch under her chin now and then. She’s generally very good about this in the small arena. She’s not that “well behaved” in the pasture, but I think that’s because she has her duties as a lead mare to consider.

Galahad isn’t as “easy” as Nevada is about staying with me—that’s just his nature. I don’t feel safe draping the rope over his back and just walking around. He’s apt to take off to play bite-face with the gelding in the pen across the road, or investigate the pretty mare tied up by the barn.

I covered the knots and the noseband of my rope halter the other evening to make it a gentler tool, and tried it out yesterday; I learned (at least) two things:

1. There is indeed some pain/discomfort produced by the rope halter’s knots. I know this because Galahad tested me a lot more yesterday than he normally does, most likely because he wasn’t having to avoid discomfort.

2. I have been jerking on his face with the lead rope, whether or not I intended to do so. If I hadn’t, he wouldn’t have noticed the lack of discomfort yesterday, and he likely wouldn’t have tested me more than usual.

Interesting. Good information. Rather horrifying, actually.

It is much harder for me to do liberty work outside an arena or the pasture, because my barn requires that the horses be on the lead at all times when not in an enclosed area like the round pen or a stall. And when there is a lead rope attached, all my natural horsemanship training comes into play again, whether I want it or not.

Especially the “bump their nose” idea. If the horse is doing something you don’t want him to do, or isn’t paying attention, “bump his nose” with the lead rope. This transfers the pressure sharply to his nose via the knots on the halter. I never liked that part, though I can see the effectiveness of it.

I do try to be gentle with the rope halter, way more gentle than I was originally taught, and for the most part I get good results. But I find lately that because I don’t want to jerk the halter, I end up using just plain pressure—i.e., pulling steadily—which doesn’t work particularly well with a 1100-pound animal. No surprise, that.

My horses have had their noses bumped a LOT, both of them, by trainers and by me. The result has been that they do what they’re asked in that way, and they do NOT pull on the lead rope even when they’re spooked. They will dance all around me, pivoting on that lead rope, and it looks pretty impressive from the onlooker’s perspective. I’ve seen that happen many times, and until just this moment, as I type this, have thought it was a really good demonstration of their trust in my leadership.

“They trust me!” Um, maybe not so much, eh? Maybe they’re just avoiding pain! When I consider what the horse might be experiencing, it makes me never want to that to happen again. Which is more frightening to my horse: the scary object, or the threat of pain on a sensitive nerve bundle? Oh my goodness.

That doesn’t make me feel so proud.

I also watched the video that I took of me and Galahad yesterday, and saw how often the lead rope tightened in response to something he did that I didn’t want him to do. He wasn’t offered an option at those times—I just pulled (gently or not) on his head. I’m not giving myself a whole lot of grief about this, since it’s something I’m working on; however, I look forward to the day when I can work with the rope draped over his back and not pull on him at all.

Well, my goodness. Galahad is certainly my teacher, in this and so much else.

I’m not sure what to think about all of this. I don’t wish to pass judgement on any good-hearted and well intentioned horse person; there are many, many effective ways to train a horse. I sure don’t have all the answers. All I know is that I want to do what is best for my horse, keeping him and me both safe and happy in each other’s company; and I want to do so in a way that is cooperative, not dominant, and that builds a relationship based on trust and pleasure.

What a fascinating journey!

That darn Nevada….

Feb10

All horses have opinions, and most of them will let us know what they think, if we listen. But some are better at it than others.

Nevada is a great communicator! That’s one reason why she’s so good with clients–most people who work with her can “hear” her, either through her body language or in their mind’s eye or ear, without me ever having to interpret for her.

Here’s just the latest example:

I was with a young woman friend of mine the other day. “Susie” loves horses, and enjoys every part of being around them, from grooming to riding to cleaning feet. Wonderful! But Susie is from that younger generation who live their lives with their cell phones in constant readiness.

So Susie and I had been washing the mud off Nevada’s feet—the pastures this time of year are pretty nasty. Then we walked back over toward the car to do some grooming. Since I was leading the horse, Susie took that moment to get on her cell phone.

Her Royal Highness does not like to be ignored. Darned if that little horse didn’t swing her head three times directly at my young friend—very clearly saying, “Get off your phone!” Even Suzie got the message.

It was pretty funny! Nevada doesn’t mince “words.”

It’s not the first time, either; I could spend all day telling you stories about her. Just one more will do for now: Here‘s a blog piece in which she makes her opinion known on the subject of fly masks.

She’s a pretty remarkable horse.

Getting closer!

Jan16

I am so excited! After 2 1/2 months of no driving (pending cataract surgery), I’m finally getting close to resuming my normal schedule–and being able to spend time with my horses once again!

And–best of all–I can see very well indeed. Much better than I’ve been able to see for decades, and all without contact lenses or glasses. That feels like a miracle.

Wintertime is a good time to schedule such a lengthy “time off,” I suppose, given the number of days that it’s truly unpleasant to be at the barn. But I have missed my guys SO much! I managed to visit, usually only for a drive-by feeding, once or twice each week…but as any horse lover knows, that is NOT enough.

I have some ideas of new ways I want to work with them–Carolyn Resnick has great suggestions, both in her online classes and on her blog. But mostly, for the first few days, I just want to hang out with them–that’s what I’ve missed the most.

The weather for the next week is warm(ish) and sunny–perfect timing! I’ll let you know how it goes.

Woohoo!

[The photo of my gorgeous Galahad enjoying a snooze in the sun on a chilly January morning is by Jenni Faust.]

I can see you! (sort of….)

Dec18

Had cataract surgery on my left eye on Monday; today’s Thursday. The vision on my left eye is now fantastic–better than it’s been in decades, and I’m so excited! I’m being very careful of the eye–keeping the plastic shield in place, using sunglasses, not bending over. Everything I’ve been told to do.

Except for one thing…I did go see Galahad yesterday. (Shhhh….)

I was good, though–I wore all the protection, didn’t run, stayed close to the barn. And Galahad was wonderful, despite the fact that he’s been in a stall all week because of an abscess (he had to stay where someone could look after him and soak/treat the foot, which I am not able to do). He clearly wanted to run and leap around, but he has such good manners that he didn’t even try.

I did turn him loose in the small arena, though, and stayed there while he ran around. Probably not the smartest thing I’ve ever done, eh?

He and I are used to liberty work and dancing together in the arena, but I hadn’t considered the fact that I currently have no depth perception. Since the surgery, my right eye has simply given up trying to see anything.

Having 1100+ pounds of horse careening in your direction is NO fun at all when you can’t be sure exactly where he is. Surprise, surprise, Kay….

So we’ll put off our dancing for a few more weeks, until the second eye is healed up. Meanwhile, we can hang out together in the pasture. That will be just fine.

I’m just happy I can see him now!

Chords

Dec6

This was originally posted on my other blog, It’s an Alchemical Life. There’s nothing here that is specifically about horses, though the Mean Little Black Horse makes a cameo appearance. But it’s important, so I’m including it here.

As a graduation present when I defended my dissertation five years ago, I bought myself a harp. Always wanted a harp (…and a horse…but that’s another story).

Since then, I’ve noodled away at my harp, mostly in the evenings, on rainy days when I was alone in the house, or in the wee, quiet hours when sleep won’t come. No lessons, no sheet music, just me tinkling out a melody and figuring out by ear what other notes go it.

Last week, a harp string broke, and I’ve not taken time to get a new one; so when the mood struck me to play something last night, I had to turn to the piano.

That’s when the weirdness started.

Picking out the melody of one of my favorite tunes with my right hand, I found my left hand finding chords to go along, just like I’d been doing with the harp. Suddenly, I wasn’t thinking any more. No sheet music, no nothing—just me, playing. Playing the piano. Not hesitantly, like “normal,” and not thinking about it. Just playing. Confidently, and rather loudly—gasp! Who is this playing, and what has she done with that timid Miss Kay?

I kept this up for an hour or so, running through my repertoire of favorites. I’m not saying I suddenly can play the piano—it’s still very much playing AT the piano, believe me! But suddenly, something shifted and I “got” the connection between chords and melody in a way that’s never translated to the piano before in my entire life.

Astonishing. My musical friends will all laugh—it’s so obvious, of course, but for me it’s always been intellectual and didn’t translate into a KNOWING that I, kinesthetic as I am, could make sense of. All my life, I’d sit down at the piano and try to read music and play songs “just the way they were supposed to be,” and I could never do it—I could never do it exactly, never memorize it and spit it back. My fingers just wouldn’t cooperate. But suddenly, there it is. Music. Chords.

Now, you all know me, right? It’s not IN me to just say, “Oh, that was fun,” and let it go at that. Nope. Especially not with something so huge (to me, at least).

I feel the ice breaking. It’s not just this particular breakthrough, either.

For months I’ve felt a change coming. Ever since the Mean Little Black Horse Midnight broke his leg just over a year ago, my life has kind of fallen apart. Nursing him back to health over the winter forced me into relative inactivity. Just as he healed, pain in my jaw and an injury to my own knee forestalled my return to “normal life.” Then this fall, cataracts and the upcoming surgery to correct them meant I had to give up driving and a lot of my freedom.

Something, clearly, is incubating. But what?

Dear Reader, I still don’t know. But whatever it is, it’s coming…and soon. And the understanding is dawning.

As you know, I see life in metaphor:

There was a new freedom in my playing last night. I wasn’t in my head, trying to “play the right notes” or “read the music.” Instead, I just opened up to what my fingers actually know. My ego stepped away from center stage.

In the experience and in a metaphorical sense, it was like letting go of the rules that I have tried so hard to live by, in my life and in my playing. It was like opening up to not knowing what it is that I’m “supposed to do while I’m here in this life,” and allowing for the possibility that I am actually doing “what I am supposed to be doing while I’m here,” just by being who I am.

There’s a growing trust in the process of Life—I first remember hearing that phrase more than 20 years ago: “Trust the process.” And I have done that, much more over these last 20 years than I ever did before.

But the idea and the sense of relaxing into trust is new to me. It’s a letting-go—a realization that I never had any control over anything much anyway. There are always choices to be made, and each choice has consequences; but I never have had control in the sense that we like to think of it. And suddenly, I find myself just fine—happy, even—with that fact. I find myself being surprised at what happens each day, and being excited to see what’s coming next—it’s a very different way of looking at the world than I’m used to. I know that’s part of what’s going on.

The best part of all this? I am so full of joy! What the heck is this?! Creativity, love, freedom, all those wonderful things—just welling up inside. Wow….

Thank you, God. Freedom … freedom from fear, mostly, I think. And there’s love. Lots of love. And more to come!

I am so blessed!

The Alchemical Horse

Equine Guided Learning