I recently sprained my ankle. With six horses to feed, being on crutches made it a daunting task. I called a couple of friends to help but no one answered, one of those deflating moments. But, my survival instinct kicked in and I determined that no matter how many hours it might take, I was going to take care of my horses! So off to the barn I went where I hobbled out of the car.
There is a blanket of peace that floats over me when I’m with the horses. Today was no exception. I was comforted just being in their presence. Ten minutes had gone by, if that, when I heard a truck coming up the driveway. It was my hay man. My heart did a little dance; unexpected help was on the way. I had him put extra bales of hay from the barn nearer where I feed the horses saving me from carting them a long distance an inch at a time.
While he was still putting the hay bales out, one of the friends I had called surprised me with a visit. I was relieved that she had gotten my message…but she hadn’t. I giggled quizzically. Instead she had simply stopped by to see me not knowing I had sprained my ankle. She had time to linger without her own agenda pressing in, and was happy to help feed the horses. Before we had finished talking, another friend came unexpectedly to get manure. Between the two of them, the horses were quickly fed while I stood by and got to be boss.
It was one of those reassuring times when I felt that something beyond myself was taking good care of me. Life-giving synchronicity is amazing to me and I think it is the way life should be. It seems to be coming with more frequency lately in a shift away from the pattern of abuse in my life that had held me victim for many years. I’d learned to brace for the worst, never the best. How awful is that! Two years ago, my horses lovingly nudged me out of this hopeless and well-worn trench. (The Horse Who Couldn’t Swallow, Parts I-IV) (Soaking in the Light of the Moon: Healing) This day at the barn I was swooped up and away from what looked like the same ‘ol victim mode to becoming an effortless director of what had earlier been an unreasonable task on crutches.
The three human helpers had gone on home and the horses were contentedly eating, squinting their eyes so they could better focus on tasting the sweet juices of their hay. They seemed a bit smug about their role in causing this to happen. What can I say? They were hungry! Meanwhile, I stood by with a heart grinning from ear to ear with gratitude, and warm satisfaction. The horses had been fed and were happy, and I was feeling loved and was happy.