Resistance To Share…
I’ve been resisting writing the last few days, even though I know I have uncovered a lot of stuff and turned it all into rich, soft, fertile ground to plant all of my now renewed, re-discovered and truly life changing hopes and dreams. Many of them from years and years back, some relating all the way back to my childhood where all I could ever imagine or think about was spending time near horses, around horses or on horses. Making equipment, blankets, bridles, reins and halters out of every scrap of lacing, leather or material I had access to.
Begging, pleading, bartering or chattering to any and all that would listen. Getting into this much misaligned habit of sharing by having to play with others in the games, manners and ways that made them happy, as I hopefully waited for my turn, the turn that came with the promise of if I shared my time with them, and “played nice”, then they would have to do the same for me. Though many times as not the minutes, hours, days would roll by with the “if I would just wait or do one more thing” then my turn would come.
To find me all these many years later, still waiting, playing, coaching, teaching, training and being paid handsomely for those who are starting out, starting over, actually going after their dreams too, of the joy, freedom, and satisfaction that comes from being a horse owner and connecting as a partner with an animal of such immense size, ability and awareness.
The last few days of this week found me once again working with and mulling over the little app horse I have had for 6 years, which had been given to me as a kid’s because of his size. Though my initial response in handling and meeting him… was are you kidding me?? Taking all of the time possible since then, to exam him and myself for all of the accumulated lessons of fear, distrust, and fleeing, so readily discernible up until the last three years of his tendency to bolt at the slightest movement from anyone or anything. So much of that originally attributed to the large indention in the center of his head about two inches up from between his eyes where he would flinch if a hand got to close, more so on the left side where he would then lock his legs, swing his head as far as possible to the right and stand there.
I have used and tried so very many different methods that I know, have learned, have had suggested, a lot of trial and error, always making small steps toward releasing the image he has so ingrained into his habitual responses. Though on Thursday I noticed his jumping always tied into the minute either hind quarter was trapped into a space he had to pass through. Finding the story I had learned about other foals the previous owner had raised then gives away as 2 and 3 year olds and how he would push them into a squeeze shoot, fumbling with his disability from several old injuries, sometimes falling onto the horses, or off the shoot. This would then cause a horse with the desire to run, left with the only option with their feet so aptly held in the shoot to lean as hard and far as possible to the other side to escape these rough, jerky motions that left the horse with a strong fear and distaste of fences, sudden movement and human contact.
As I played with the thought in my mind, I was aware of how much I dearly love to share and teach, how much I have held back over layers of uncertainty of my rights to be in control of what I can or should be doing with my life. So I rearranged my two barrels that are used to direct a horse in, out, and around them from about six feet from the fence on one side and open on the other. Where this little horse would jump every time he came close to any opening, with a locked, raised neck and the whites of his eyes watching for any and every opportunity to escape, when I recognized he didn’t feel like he had a choice. Even though my hands were light upon the rope as I guided him through, I saw a possible new solution after half an hour with minimal relaxing or even breathing from him, of moving my saddling rail to make a temporary chute to “walk” him through. Get him into a place as small as possible that he could still walk in, walk through, walk out, slowly, then step by step for the next hour I played with him, till I felt him relax, yawn, and let go of the terror of forced enclosure. Aware of the resistance in me to trap myself into fully walking eyes wide open to my fullest dreams of and for me, completely, solidly, comfortably… asking no one if, how, why, or may I.
Amazed at the tension that left both of us about the same time, I just wanted to sit down and bawl, over all of the years of waiting for the support I thought was necessary from outside of me. And yet here it was, my imaginary fears of outside disapproval’s, when it was only me holding me back, trying to protect me from allowing all of me out… to fully live.
I love my life, my horses, my kids, my family, my friends and everything I have ever done or come in contact with. It’s all shaped me, the sharing of episodes and escapades many times helps others see that what they are attempting or afraid of, that someone like me who makes so much of what I do appear easy… has had to wade through the swamps of fears, to climb out on the rocks and logs to find the stream of life always ready to wash us off, cool and refresh us as we float along supported by the Universe in each of ours desires, dreams and passions to be fully uniquely ourselves as we learn, understand and expand to truly live our life to the fullest.