The Rules of the Game…
This has been a long week or so of introspection and self-discovery in my having several doors closed (albeit at the time felt like rudely slammed) in my face, though each with a golden window of opportunity to discover my long standing (in my mind) stuckedness (a word my computer still argues about the existence of). And as per usual as is my mode of operation… I would pick the phrase that most quieted the now much smaller voices in my head “everything is just fine, things always work out for me, I know I am being guided” to having what seemed like there is no answers to be found… easily work themselves out.
I diligently continued to live, train, drive and attempt to write out the seemingly simple new possibilities and ideas that would find their way into my trains of thoughts. Though giving me relief for a few hours or until I came to sit down to write which just hours ago seemed like the answer I was in search of. Until I stopped first to check emails, then peruse through Facebook for added confirmation and feel good posts. This would then find me back attempting the same game, befuddled by the lack of commitment to the wondrous ideas of earlier, which still made sense but felt more like just the tip of the probe in getting to the real heart of the issue.
No desire to write, to commit thought to page or even open my writing section. I would just play, sometimes loosing completely, accumulate the points to the first, sometimes second level and still not feel any desire to move. All my motivation seemed stalled, hinging on something so close I could feel it, almost gripping my left arm in a pull from some time long ago, something from somewhere in my past holding on to me, with this tenseness as if I was stepping into real deep, unknown, almost a betrayal of all that I had been taught, schooled and learned. So instead I would play, lose, wandering in my mind, do my driving, all in an almost lack luster fashion, except for…
My riding, the place I go, get lost, can spend hours, alive, vibrant, relishing the horses responding and reacting to me and with me. The constant interchange from my marvelous friends, who keep alive, active and aware in me the constant differences to be found in each moment and with each individual animal as I played, rode and worked with becoming a better partner with them. Especially since this last Monday when I was graced with my third horse in this last year of a completely clean slate, never being saddled, ridden or handled except for the few basics of groundwork another 4 year old, this one an almost 16 hands Gypsy Drum.
Who within the first hour of playing with him, he learned to be saddled, to follow my feel and even allowed me to mount up, on and off several times from both sides. With each day adding a bit more, such as the first few walking steps, then completely around the round pen by Tuesday. Trotting a full circle in both directions, with stops at the shift of my seat, turns from the cues of my knees by Wednesday. Completely disengaging and moving faster or slowing down all with just a halter by Thursday. Ending the week with the owner present on Friday for both in and out of the round pen handling and riding. They were pleased, I was having so very much fun, all aware of this too meant something with these rolling set of unanswered questions to the solutions I could feel all around me, yet not quite put my fingers on.
I had learned the site which got me started in writing out my dreams and ideas was closing. I had the oldest person as of yet to start lessons at age 75 have a blast with her granddaughter at first concerned about this taking on learning about horses, with a cane, and her granny’s other physical limitations. Commenting what she herself had learned and how well her grandmother did in finding new ways to view the use of her cane and her body to have the horse respond safely, comfortably and easily, especially after watching her slower gaited grandmother leading the horse back, with the horse moving just as slowly, listening and respecting my newest student.
So the weekend went with me still kind of comfortably struggling, playing the same game, perusing the internet, with no real defining thought or ideas to direct my inquiring mind causing me to close it out, and open my solitaire games… win one, move to the next, win, and move. After several different types I came upon the one type I could not win so I turned off the computer and went to bed comfortably assured I would find the answer.
Waking up to find my son feeding as I had slept in, got up, made coffee, came in to check my email, to discover the solitaire game still open. I selected a new game and allowed myself to really slow it down, step, by step, finding the feeling of each and every move first. Seeking, finding, feeling, then sensing the thoughts that came together in tiny, small fragments… the pieces I had been searching for, forming in my mind, the answer had so carefully found my way to.
The rules of my life are of my own making. They are my choices. They only apply to me. I can bend them, flex them, use them or change them. I am no longer afraid to look at “others rules” as tools that might be of use for me, now or later… they are not laws that apply to every given circumstance.
Seems I have been stuck in this whirlpool of thoughts handed down to me over the years by so very many well-meaning people of what I “must, should, ought to, have to, and am expected to do” so I will be my best in their idea of the “my world”. My growing up religious teachings, the schools I have attended, the clinics, books, courses, teachers I have amassed, many of them meaning well in their attempts to teach and share what has worked for them. So many trying to make things easier for others in explaining the “rules” (a word to me that means hard, absolute, sovereign) reinforced by the taking away of any certifications awarded if I color outside of their lines.
Horses and in my learning and sharing with others have taught me… everything is unique, different sizes, taste, moves, expressions, and uses, all having their places at some time, in some fashion, apart, but still connected. All things, people, ideas, places, and opportunities fit together as tools to be used, now, later, for fun, work, money, opportunity, to eat, to run, to walk, to play, or to be stored … as we each first find free flowing flexible friendly feelings for our life. Baby steps to movement forward, slowly incrementally increasing our speed as we become comfortable being fully capable, all feeling, thinking, and responding as our total self.
As there is a whole world out there clamoring for my attention, all this information pushing to get me to listen… the thoughts, ideas and opinions helping to shape and guide me in the learning to be true to what feels best for me, first, foremost, and always… in whatever form or fashion is right, perfectly suited and appropriate for me, as me in each and every moment!