Standing in Our Own S*** Collects Painful Rocks: Lesson From Shaman Tal

What, me?

On Tal’s road to recovery, he had a little set back today with his sensitive hooves. Or maybe it was not a set back at all but pageantry to get a point across to me. If so, it worked. Just before my fears had a chance to take hold, I had an intuition that I needed to clean Tal’s hooves. Sure enough, when he lifted each one, I found them impacted with his manure and a ton of rocks!

He’s been mirroring me lately by standing in his own manure even though there were plenty of clean places all around for his hooves. This is out of character for any of my horses. But I learned from Tal that I’ve been standing in my own muck for years without realizing it, and collecting painful rocks. All I felt were the continuous jagged and sharp edges that hurt, and didn’t notice the s*** that was drawing them and holding them in my life. For me it was imprinted patterns from an undealt-with childhood abuse. Just the revelation of that and my choice to step out of it, led me simultaneously to a beautiful and gentle experience of forgiveness. Standing now where there are plenty of clean places, I’m viewing life from a new perspective. No more s***, no more impacted rocks to painfully distract me from the life I intend to live.

As I left for the day, Shaman Tal and his buddy horse were massaging each other over the back fence, a synchronous reassurance that all was well. He was free of his own muck and has been freeing me of mine. I rather like the imagery he presented as I left, a picture of pure pleasure and delight. A breath of heaven!

Breaking the Rules: Mystical Moments

It’s been a tough time in my life. Today was one of the lowest. From the beginning I’d had a stressful morning and was late leaving for the barn. As I closed the door to my cabin and headed up the driveway to take care of the horses, I noticed that Heni, my Airedale and Australian Shepherd mix, was missing. After a few calls and no response, I couldn’t deal with it and went on to the barn knowing she would come back to the cabin at some point. I didn’t even have the energy to be upset.

Feeling dejected I went through the gate into the front paddock area of the barn with my head hanging down. Such a drama queen sometimes! I walked mindfully toward the barn and then stopped in my tracks. There was my dog, Heni, lying in the spring sunshine next to the barn like a miniature lioness regally “doing her job”. How she’d made it across the road and through the fence I have no idea.

I went into a brief internal conflict because in my mind, she had run away and I don’t look kindly on that, but the truth was it felt really good seeing her there. It was more than relief, it was something different. I felt strongly that she was right where she belonged. She was there on my behalf when I wasn’t functioning so well, and she was there, “at home”, taking care of her horses. I paused and let go of my authoritative side and enjoyed the bliss of the moment.

She’d decided to do what she needed to do at the risk of getting into trouble. As I work spiritually with the horses and with Heni, I’ve been learning to trust those moments when I get the home feeling even when they’ve stepped outside of my rules for them.

All day today I lingered in the joy of the moment that took me to the other world where life with our animals is not rigidly locked into “should” or “should nots”. A place that allows for manifestations that are extraordinary and transcendent.

We must be mindful that the new spiritual awareness we have been discussing is a balance between our rational and intuitive selves. We aren’t discarding our hard-won powers of rational discernment, rather, we are bringing them into balance with the higher part of our being. In this way we are entering a universe that provides a constant stream of little miracles to guide our way.

… Our full engagement of the synchronistic process brings us immediately to the next step in living the new spiritual awareness.
- James Redfield, The Celestine Vision

Stepping Out of the Shadows

Troubled
Tal wasn’t doing well again. The whole story is for another time. His feet were uncomfortable and just as happened last year, I had come to a dead end not knowing what to do because both conventional and non-conventional efforts weren’t working once again. I checked in on him and reassured him, letting him know I was going for a walk which is the best time for me to hear what guidance is being offered. Gently stroking his face, I whispered that I would come back soon to be with him.

The Walk
I spent time taking in the beauty of the redwoods and the waving grasses, breathing the spring air, and feeling… well, not joy exactly, but feeling a sense that I was on track no matter how uncomfortable. I pondered my life, the difficult but solid decisions I’d been making recently, and the new changes taking place. I thought about my journey with Tal a year ago when my changes brought improvement in his condition.[Journey Into Surrender, Parts 1-7] I observed how in some ways the situation seemed the same again this year. However, in truth it was completely different because of what I now understood, and because of a growing inner confidence in my spiritual path.

When I finally headed back to the barn still not knowing what to do for Tal, I felt a heaviness encroaching and pushing away the quiet I had been feeling on my meditative walk. He seemed to be getting worse. I was losing the deep connection with him in the past couple of days. He had withdrawn into a cavern after some very joyful times in the last few weeks as we’ve traversed these new paths together through the laminitis dilemma. [Goofy Mariah: Divine Comedienne]

Not Knowing
I embraced my “not knowing” rather than fighting it. The feeling was relief. The new ways of responding to physical problems were surfacing in strength in me as traditional and alternative approaches were losing their foothold. For strange yet ultimately wonderful reasons they had become ineffective unless I was given specific guidance. These are the kinds of circumstances when many animals are put down, and in my fearful times I’d wondered about Tal. But he pressed on with me. He was my shaman teacher uncovering and honing gifts I didn’t know I had. Lessons over the years were beginning to merge with the ones I was learning of late.

The Message
I continued to walk to the barn in silence. Then the words came, “Do your art. Sit with Tal and draw him.” Friends of mine and those of you who have followed my blog know this mantra. This was not a new concept for me, just repetitive because I keep forgetting. 

Lessons From the Past
Years ago I was being prepared for this time in my life. I rescued a sick horse, Mano, who was never able to recover but the lessons I learned during that time keep coming like the waving grasses during this time when I’m finally ready to trust them. They are collected in my inner sacred place, recorded in an ancient book of wisdom with crinkled parchment curled on the edges and stained with age. The imprinted lessons glow in the warmth of heavenly candlelight inviting me to remember once again. This time it is with well-seasoned understandings.

When I was caring for Mano in those years gone by, I was getting a deep inkling that drawing him would somehow help his healing, I tried but the results weren’t instant enough for an immature self, nor was I as comfortable with drawing at that time, and it went by the wayside, filed somewhere in back chapters of that divine book of lessons.

Synchronicity
Arriving at the barn, I had my clear instructions. Grabbing my well worn barn stool, and my art tools, I sat down to draw Tal. He was very restless, moving his weight from one hoof to the next and kept turning to look at me. As I was sketching him, I was surprised by his next movement. He awkwardly maneuvered his body around and shuffled his way to be near me where his head could touch my shoulder. Such affection touched my spirit.

After doing a quick composite of him, I felt he wanted more contact from me so I laid aside my drawing, and spent time brushing him, cleaning his feet, and a lot of time combing his thick white tail. He grew quiet. Very quiet. I knew this was working.

During this interaction I had offered him a couple of homeopathic remedies which he usually takes, but today he told me that he didn’t want them because “you are my remedy” he had said.

So, quiet he became, and more relaxed. After a time of peaceful rest he decided to move out of the stall and eat some grass hay. Hope quickened within me. While slow at first, he began walking more effortlessly.

Throughout the day he continued to improve and when I returned to the barn in the early evening, he and Dollar were diligently massaging each other’s withers as they stood with the fence between them. I stopped in a hush, smiling all the way to my toes, not wanting to disturb this beautiful and long awaited interaction between Tal and his sometimes buddy, and sometimes rival. A significant indicator of Tal’s dramatic improvement.

Divine Flow
What made the difference in his dramatic improvement in one day? I’m not sure, I’m still learning. Perhaps it was all of it, going with the divine flow, and starting with the drawing for sure was important as per instructions, and certainly the mutual activation of love between us, and not to overlook the magic of touch in the grooming, and the tail combing.

Tal was right he didn’t need his homeopathic remedies that day. His remedy came in the new way that is unfolding with us here at the ranch as he teaches me and prods me to step out of the shadows of my self limitations and fears into the joy of life as it was meant to be lived.

Four-Legged Flower Child

Late one afternoon, I sat in a weathered redwood armchair sketching two of my horses while they grazed. It had been a stressful day for me. Mariah, I noticed, was munching grasses very close to me, standing behind the chair almost touching me. I felt the warm comfort of her presence.

As she moved around in front of me, I started sketching her face. She walked over to me and casually dropped a few green grasses from her mouth on my drawing. At first I didn’t pay much attention. It was just bits and pieces of green pasture I had thought.

When I went back to sketching, I glanced, caught a breath, and then looked again. What she had placed on my paper below the drawing was a tiny bouquet of flowers so very delicate from the mixed flowering grasses of the fields. It is apparent that Mariah had made a deal with a resident flower fairy who arranged them perfectly just for me. Then Mariah coyly delivered them to my sketch pad that carried the charcoal image of her beautiful face.

I was enchanted, and overcome with joy. These are the things that are important in life, things that bring messages to the heart, and lift the veil between the worlds.

Goofy Mariah: Divine Comedienne

“Goofy Mariah” charcoal/watercolor by bev

The other day I decided to do a charcoal sketch of Tal as he stood in his shelter. He’s been having sore feet again lately, more about that in another post, so he is off pasture during the daytime and confined in a spacious paddock area. I set up “shop” with an old barn stool to sit on, put my sketch pad on my lap, and placed a plastic bin filled with assorted charcoal pieces on the ground beside me.

As I got started, Mariah walked in. I haven’t written much about her probably because she lives in another dimension most of the time, a bit beyond me, and is typically very aloof in the conventional sense. Mariah often stays with Tal so he won’t be alone, the one horse who seems especially fond of him and behaves like a big sister. Most often, it is Mariah who stands at the gate to come in the paddock with Tal.

Today, she became a goofball! She walked up to me in the shelter with Tal and put her head almost in my face. So much for a prim and proper horse who honors my space! Thank goodness! (Or there’d be no more story to tell.) She started playfully harassing me, bonking me, grabbing at my hair, and at the charcoal in my hand, trying to snatch my sketch pad away, and making a general nuisance of herself. I was amused by her unusual lighthearted games and began to laugh as I tried to sketch. Giggles continued to bubble up as I continued working. She finally gave me a break while she took a short nap, and I was able to finish.

Synchronicities can be so uncanny with these animals. No sooner than I’d had the thought that I was finished, Mariah was at my elbow again hanging her head over my drawing with her mouth pressed against the paper. She then proceeded to push her lips back and forth, back and forth over the whole drawing as if she were blending the charcoal as she has seen me do many times before (but not with my mouth!). I threw my head back and let the laughter roll through my being and out into the barnyard and around Tal who was standing nearby in front of me. What delight!

This sketch was no human masterpiece to be saved, but now it had all the touches of an equine with a sacred mission. Creating laughter and healing! Mariah had gotten me to lighten up and laugh, and Tal to feel better.

I finally became aware that Tal had not been rocking from one foot to another which he does when his feet hurt, and he did a lot of licking and chewing indicting things were feeling good to him. This was all strong feedback that he was comfortable. He had been touched by the amazing gift of laughter that Mariah had initiated as she stepped into her role as divine comedienne.

Kaheka Boy: Divine Messenger

“…and the light overcomes the darkness”  charcoal drawing and photo by bev

Kaheka was running frantically around the pasture. He is a thoroughbred with great energy but this time I knew something was wrong. I started to panic (often my first response) but stopped myself from going there. Mentally I ran through my supportive script that I’ve collected over time reminding myself of truths that had been brought to me: Nothing will be given that we can’t handle. Check. We’ve been through this with Kaheka before and experienced a dramatic healing. Check. If this is colic I know what to do. Check. Face it head on, breathe and tune in. Check. Sigh.

A quieting confidence blanketed me. There is such a comforting surrender in stepping courageously into a situation with full awareness rather than running away and hiding in fear. I stood still and observed Kaheka as I tuned in. I invited him to come near me so we could interact. He went the opposite direction. Having learned that sometimes my horses prefer to take care of an issue on their own, as Kaheka had done a couple of years ago, I prepared to go back to my cabin across the road. I’d check on him in a bit later.

Before I could leave, Kaheka appeared at the gate close by. He was still hypervigilant. I walked over to him and put my hands out and did 60 seconds or less of energy work but he seemed restless and unreceptive but tried hard to accommodate me when everything in him wanted to run away.

At last, words were brought to my lips. “Kaheka, what energies are you intercepting and for whom?” I heard myself speaking. With that acknowledgement, Kaheka turned and walked like a horse with a determined mission, straightaway to a spot some distance away where he stopped on cue. There he stood before the throne of God as the heavens descended and cloaked him with a divine calm. He lowered his head to receive the crown for his work as a divine surrogate messenger. (Surrogate Messenger Parts 1- 5) He then stood motionless and fell into a trancelike sleep while the angels caressed him and sang lullabies softly around him. Well done, faithful servant, they whispered. Yes. Well done.

He continued to sleep and awakened later. He peacefully grazed on pasture grasses in the good company of his herd around him as if nothing out of the ordinary had transpired. Such is the mystical life of a horse.

[The next day, I learned that my friend had indeed gone through a troubled time the day before. As a divinely appointed surrogate messenger, Kaheka had intercepted some of the energies that would have made it more difficult for her. He carried her once again so her transformation came with less effort and trauma.]

Listening Intuitively

charcoal drawing by bev

This is why I like Anna, my farrier; and Tal does too. The other day she was giving him a routine hoof trim. This is no piece of cake for Tal even though, bless his heart, he tries hard to cooperate as he is able. But sometimes, through no fault of his own, his feet hurt. This particular time she was working on one hind foot which he, being a very large horse and of great strength, kept snatching out of her hand and planting firmly on the ground. He then would lift the hind foot on the opposite side. He did this several times. Logically, Anna was intending to finish the one she was working on before doing the one that kept paddling in the air aimlessly looking for her strong farrier hands.

But Anna listened intuitively and responded to Tal. And this is what won my heart. She decided to stop what she was doing and went to the opposite hoof he’d been lifting. As she started cleaning it with her pick, out popped a rock the size of half a walnut shell. Ouch! Tal had known this was the most important next step. His discomfort was alleviated in an instant. Anna was then able to go back to the hoof she’d been working on and finished the job with ease. Thanks, Tal for speaking, and Anna, for paying attention.

This incident reminded me of another time when Anna responded intuitively to Tal. Once again she was working on his hind feet. This time he’d had an injury to his right hip and was finding it difficult to put weight on one side. Finally he just walked away. Instead of getting annoyed, a common response of many humans, Anna stood still and quietly watched. I stood with her. Amazingly, Tal repositioned himself so that his front feet were downhill bearing more of the weight which took the pressure off of the injury in his rear end. Anna was then able to proceed with the trimming without further struggle.

After experiencing Tal’s directives and Anna’s receptive and intuitive responses, I have wondered how many times in situations like this that we interfere with what could be an easier and more delightful solution by becoming annoyed, and completely ignoring our intuitions. Though intuition can be subtle, challenging … and sometimes seemingly treacherous, I have found it ultimately to be a gift of joy.

Intellect vs Intuitive

charcoal sketch by bev

Kaheka was grinding his teeth today and swallowing excessively. I cringed with the sound, remembering my school days and fingernails across the blackboard. Kaheka is so sensitive to dietary changes, I worried about too many apples last night from the old apple tree in the pasture, or maybe too rapid of an increase of rice bran which I try to do gradually.

I had read that teeth grinding can indicate pain or discomfort. I feared colic given his propensity to a sensitive tummy. I tried to tune in, did a little energy work with my hands, heard some strong rumblings in his belly, mentioned a particular homeopathic remedy that came to my mind. He’s very energetically receptive to my speaking the name of the remedy even without giving it to him, a discovery I made when he was acting as a surrogate messenger. (Surrogate Messenger, Parts 1-5) But this time, nothing changed.

I kept getting an impression to throw him some hay. My intellect kept arguing, “Don’t be ridiculous, you don’t give him food if he is experiencing colic.”  So I brushed the thought away like it was a nagging child. Finally in a moment of brilliance, I stepped back from the incessant and dictatorial mind chatter. I invited back my intuitive thought about feeding him hay. I went for it. He ate and was fine, showing no more signs of discomfort.

It was only after intuition took the lead that the logic was revealed. The intellect had acted from an erroneous premise that it was colic that was making Kaheka uncomfortable in which case no food should be offered. In the actual case, the opposite was true. Kaheka, a typical high metabolism thoroughbred, was uncomfortable because he didn’t have enough to eat because I was cutting back on hay and letting the horses eat more from pasture. According to equine nutritionist, Dr. Juliet M. Getty, in her comprehensive reference book, Feed Your Horse Like a Horse, horses need access to food (grass hay) 24/7 because of the unique design of their digestive systems. (Her eloquently written book explains why it is necessary, and how the horses ultimately adjust to eating the right amount).

Following my intuition and throwing Kaheka some hay turned out to be the right thing and I later realized that it made total sense. He and I both went happily on with our day.

Amoura Tonight: A Horse Directing Her Own Bodywork

charcoal sketch by bev

Amoura
She named herself. It had come in a flash. I’m terrible with names but the one she came with made me cringe. One night I heard her new one and her primary gift. Amoura. Love. I never questioned where it came from. I just knew. It was she who had told me, but it took me a couple of years to recognize that.

Messages
Amoura’s style is no-nonsense. Her messages, I’ve come to learn, are quick, succinct, and without further comment. She had told me shortly after she arrived here that Tal needed his name changed and Kaheka had a little girl entity on him. The messages had come so fast and with such clarity, I did a double take still getting use to animals talking. I couldn’t ignore that I had just heard from her. But that was it, no further information, no idle chitchat.

She leaves it with me to figure out. Her message about Kaheka was interesting because it was during this time when numerous people referred to him as her, including myself. Even his given name I found a little feminine. Kaheka later came to me in a dream and gave me more information. That may be another post sometime.

Amoura walks away from me when I don’t quite understand something. She’s not intending rudeness, she just doesn’t have time for my floundering. Uh! With her head flung high, another time, is her attitude.

Hangin’ Out
Lately she has been hanging out with me more than usual, following me from place to place, not always, and not enough to feel her as a nuisance, but enough to enjoy her. Tonight we had a special interaction just outside the barn. I did some energy work on her with my hands, nothing fancy, no certification, just following the lead of the horse and my hands. Questions and feelings become my awareness…where does she want me to work, where do my hands want to work, and how do they want to move?

Following Her Lead
After some exploration not quite knowing, she started directing the bodywork. Moving herself around so that I was standing near her neck, Amoura stepped her warm body close to me indicating she wanted me to touch her rather than holding my hands at a distance as I frequently do. After a few minutes she curled her neck away from me so that it was beautifully curved and felt wonderful to my hands. This brought back memories of a prior time that I had done enegy work around her neck and shoulder.

Remembering
Amoura had come to me that day showing some lameness. I experimented with the side that seemed to have the problem. As I reached my hands out toward her, I felt buzzing as if my hands had landed on a bee hive, and there was heat. She softly bonked me with her head like Apolinaire does when affirming me and saying “good job, you’re getting it”, and then licked and chewed with satisfaction. After awhile she moved forward so I would do her rear end and tail. (I love working their tails.) I did more work and then she walked 10 feet away and stood and looked back at me. I sensed she wanted me to stay at that distance. I used my hands for awhile from afar, but the motivation to continue subsided which I’ve learned to trust. I sensed I should stand in her presence and she in mine at the distance she had determined for whatever her reason. Quietly we stood. No agenda.

Empathy
I felt a sadness come over me and absentmindedly assumed it was mine. It must have been her impatience that jolted me back to the understanding that it was her sadness that she was sharing with me. She had come to the ranch with her buddy, Dollar. They had been best friends, just the two of them at another ranch, but once here, he had abandoned her for new friends. It made me sad. I knew it was hers. She bonked me again when I got it.

Releasing
Tonight as I stood stroking her neck and remembering, she repositioned herself so I would use my hands from a distance. She yawned and yawned, deeply, indicating a significant release. I was grateful, and matter of fact, so was she.

Rhythm and Beauty: Frivolous Moments?

    Amoura                                                                pastel by bev  

I just finished the post that had held me captive for many weeks. It is not published yet, but soon will be. Taking a break, I went to the oversized open door from my writing studio to the upper floor deck and stood. I felt the day as it was taking part in its evening meditations. The horses below the deck had come in for a quick nap. I looked down at Tal’s bright white coat and poured out love. I felt something flow out of me into his body and I let it happen without trying to analyze or assist. It was beautiful, it was healing, for him, and for me.

The sun, low in the sky, magically outlined everything it touched with its warm golden light painting long shadows on the eastern slopes. There was a peaceful quiet, a calm as insects buzzed in the sun bleached pastures reminding me of cozy childhood feelings of safety and security.

As birds darted to and fro gathering dinner for their families, they glistened in the light of the yawning sun. The horses found their way back to their favorite places in the pasture nearby waiting for their nighttime snack. One stood watch over me, Amoura, who named herself “love.”

As I bring my attention back to myself, the dog sleeps peacefully behind me, and the sun peeks around the building and casts its end of the day warmth on my rubber boots soothing my tired feet. All is well, I feel. I let myself linger in the feelings, wondering why we humans think these are only frivolous moments when instead we are communing with the divine and allowing it to do it’s cosmic work.