Self Imposed Limitations

BE

Bucky is not a horse that has self-imposed limitations. He does not think anything will kill him. He does not believe in man-made rules, and much of the time he does not believe in horse-made rules either. He feels that wide open fields are for galloping across, no matter what some farmer may be trying to grow in them. Fences are irrelevant, and numerous stall doors have had irreparable damage done before we gave up on that idea. If he does not want to be bothered, he won’t. If he feels that you need to be bothered, you will.

Though Bucky has never been the most sound or athletic horse, this has never stopped him from spinning on a dime and throwing an infamous double barrel kick at an irritating pasture mate. His elderly stature has not held him back from expending all his energy covering ground in double time in the front of the trail riding group - for the first half of the ride anyway. He doesn’t even let the fact that he does not have the necessary equipment to produce offspring keep him from trying. Life is good, the sun is for sleeping in, hay is delicious, and I am pretty sure that he holds out the hope that if he’s lucky enough, one day he just might get to come live in the house with the people.

Lately, Bucky and I have been missing each other. I keep promising him a trail ride, or at least some hang out time. But I continue to find that it is too cold, or I don’t have time, or that I am tired, or need to ride another horse. As I was getting worried about the distance seeming to grow between us, I became aware of my own self imposed limitations. This dear and constant friend of mine needs and deserves my attention, yet I often allow less important things get in the way of finding the time to just hang out a little. That’s all Bucky really prefers to do. He doesn’t get all caught up in the idea that horses are for riding....

Bucky has taught me many lessons in my life, and this continues to be one of the most persistent. Just BE. He has always given me a sense of confidence and security. Just like a baby’s strong attachment to his mother, from this safe foundation I was able to explore my identity, self-confidence, and emotional fitness. This confidence can help me BE. Unless, of course, I decide to limit myself. We often create limitations for ourselves with things we think we “should” or “must” do or be. We create rules and regulations and stress. We avoid what we love and need to pay the bills or run errands. Or somehow we tell ourselves that we are not good enough, or that we don’t have the right opportunities to follow our dreams.

I have these moments when I am with my horse that often keep me from being in the present. Sometimes they are reliving the moments in the past - our learning experiences, trail rides, and bonding time. Sometimes they are hopes and dreams - the wish to go ride in the mountains, or have him live in my backyard. While I am often living in the past or the future, however, Bucky lives in the moment, and this enables him to do exactly what is necessary at any time, whether it be a wild play with his friends, or a calm strength for me. More often than might seem necessary, it includes biting someone on the rear end. Theses are the things that make him the best therapist I know. What is it that we miss in life because we are limited by our own created things, such as our perception of ourselves, our wistful dreams, our thoughts about how we should comport ourselves, or even our resources?

Perhaps we limit ourselves because we lack confidence. There are so many experiences that we have when we are young that can either cause or hinder our confidence. At that age, however, we do not have the processing skills or coping mechanisms to not make something about us. When we get older we develop these things, but often still act as though we do not have them. Ironically, it is when we are young that we experience the most internal freedom. Self-imposed limitations can be a crutch brought on by fear of failure, or fear of success. Societal norms teach us to live in a box. We then work very hard at creating our box. This works out fine when we are comfortable in our box. But I imagine more often than not we would prefer to be in the pasture.....or the pasture next door.....

Bucky seems to perceive life very simply and with confidence. A stall door is just a flimsy piece of wood. We can figure out ways to squeeze through electric fences. If someone else’s opinion clashes with his, he will simply work it out, or leave. But most importantly he does not get caught up in thoughts and worry. If he wants something, he does what it takes to get it. If it works out, great. If not, on to something new.

I do not believe that this lesson with Bucky suggests that we need to throw all caution to the wind, sell our homes, travel the world, etc. This is an internal lesson about why we tell ourselves what we do. Surely we work to pay for our home because we love our family. But is our work keeping us from our family? We tend to make things harder, more complicated, and more important than they are. If we can perceive life simply and with confidence, like a young child or old horse, we may be less likely to impose limitations that keep us from living the life that we love.

To Every Season....

I am not sure which is worse, the mud or the ice. Right now, there is both. In the summer, I ride all day long (well, almost). I sit in the pasture and hang out, taking little naps with the horses under the trees. We go places and do things. Fun things. In the fall, I often take advantage of opportunities to do some horsemanship learning, and go on lovely trail rides. In the spring I enjoy the hopes of better weather and plan horsey get-togethers with friends. I dust the mud off my pony and we start getting back in the swing of things.

But in winter.....I trudge through the snow with feed buckets. I have been wondering how this dreadful weather is affecting my relationships with my horses. I feel like I am not spending an appropriate amount of time with them, and certainly not doing much riding or playing. I hunker down in my coveralls and wait for the water trough to fill up, and maybe get in a few mediocre scratches. I’m not DOING much. But through the eye opening in my head to toe winter getup, I am doing a lot of NOTICING.

I generally try to have good observation skills, however my observations typically precede actions, but not before interpretations. Well, when there is the danger of slipping on the ice and falling on your bottom, neither your feet nor your thoughts can move too fast. I have been watching Lucy at feeding time, take her sweet little looks to the boys to get them to share with her. There is so much interaction in these short moments. I am not sure exactly how many different levels of “No, get out of my face!” there are, but Lucy does, and she knows exactly which ones matter. And being aware of that means all the difference between getting to nibble some more food, and getting kicked.

I have also noticed how I have been holding my breath watching this the past few days, knowing that if anybody moved too fast, someone would end up slipping and sliding. But they all stay on their feet (which is more than I can say for myself.) They seem to know exactly how little extra energy it takes to cause a problem in this dangerous muck, and it appears to me that they do not need my warnings of “Careful!”

All it takes to keep yourself or your herd member safe is to notice. Pay attention to the second they start to slip, maybe even think about it before hand. Horses care a lot when we notice. Riley has helped teach me this, because she notices everything. And she notices when you notice. Noticing does not necessarily mean doing anything. It just means, “Hey, we are on the same page here.” It is a sign of friendship, and understanding. It is how we learn about each other.

I am also noticing that the herd is hunkering too. They are not playing too many games in this ice. They are also hiding in their shed with their faces in the hay bale- putting on a few extra pounds (ahem!). And they don’t seem to mind too much that we aren’t going trail riding or working on our lead changes at the moment. I guess we are on the same page. Good to notice. 

A Love Story

Portrait of Buster by Ellen Strack

I am going to tell you a love story. It may not be as romantic as you are hoping, and it does have a sad ending. It is not so much the story of two individuals but of many. It did start, however, with a lesson from a horse.

I was a one horse girl for a long time. I rode other horses, and I even owned other horses, but only one had my heart. I was perfectly happy with this scenario, until a horse came into my life that changed a lot of things. Buster came into my life because of my love for Bucky, my first horse. He needed a companion, and we were told of someone giving away a horse. As soon as I met Buster, I knew he was the one. He reminded me of Bucky. I just knew they would get along. It is funny that I had these thoughts, as I later understood after getting to know him that he and Bucky could not be more different, and though they were fond herdmates, they were never peas in a pod. I guess the connection I felt simply told me that he belonged in my herd.

I was happy to have him at first, because he was a horse that my friends and family could ride. He was cute and all, but I called him my sister’s horse (even though she really wasn’t interested.) One day I took a friend out to ride, and became concerned when Buster suddenly began to cough and found it difficult to keep up. Over the next few months, he continued to have trouble breathing, lost weight and was generally depressed. The vet diagnosed Buster with heaves, which is basically like asthma for humans. We treated him with steroids, antihistamines, even human inhalers. Nothing seemed to help much. I began to get creative with his treatment, making herbal concoctions. As I worked to help him be healthy it became apparent to me that medication alone was not the answer. I had to give him love. I had to give him my heart and let him know that I cared that he got better. This was a difficult thing for me at the time. I was used to holding back. With my family, with my husband, with others in general. The only place that I could let my emotions go was with Bucky, and that typically came out in the form of buckets of tears. I knew this was a journey that I had to begin to take, and that Buster would help me along the way.

As my life began to take a very important turn, I was given the opportunity to move my horses to a new farm. Buster was doing somewhat better at the time, but the small area that he lived in, and his constant standing in the dusty barn gave little room for his recovery. As soon as we got to his new environment, he was 99 percent better. I hadn’t realized the relationship that Buster and I had built during this time. But it began to show. I would look into his eyes- the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen on a horse- and get lost. I would snuggle his soft face. I would call him my Tiger. Partly because of his “tigers eyes” and partly because under his fluffy teddy like self, I could see the life force of a tiger.

Two happy memories I have of this time I will never forget. The first time I let him out into the 28 acre pasture I saw the happiest horse I have ever seen. I cannot forget the picture, he must have literally grinned from ear to ear. The second was a few days before he fell ill. As though he knew what would happen, he came up behind me and placed his head on my shoulder. Then I knew that we had a relationship, that despite all my attempts at withholding, that for me this horse had cracked open the walls between love and self-doubt, between depression and passion, between love that gives for givings sake and love that receives in joy.

I sat with him all day in the rain. I read him books, I talked to him. I talked to him about how we could fly together in the sky one day, and he told me of his gratefulness and love for me. When I got up to leave he tried to come with me but couldn’t, which is why I stayed there. I stayed until it was time to let him go.

And that is my love story. Buster helped me discover the love I had, and it kept growing. I began to learn to allow myself to love more, love my husband, love myself. I began to love other horses and allow them to teach me their lessons. As I experience love everyday, I think of him and know that love is not something to fear because you may lose it. It is something to cherish and learn from for now, and hold onto because it never ends.

Gratefulness

Christmas is the time of year that brings up thoughts for me on the idea of being grateful. There are often so many confusing emotions surrounding this holiday for me and for so many people. We give gifts, we get gifts, we think about those who have no gifts, and if we are honest with ourselves, we are not always all that grateful. I like to show my gratitude to my friends and family with gifts. That is part of the holiday season I enjoy. That enjoyment, however, often runs thin in the long lines, small budgets, and busy schedule that goes along with it. I enjoy getting gifts as well, and though in some moments I am incredibly thankful, there are many others that cause me to grumble as I once again stand in line, returning the things I wasn’t that grateful for. Then there is also the desire to help those less fortunate at Christmas, but that also brings up a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. I find that an important factor determining our level of gratefulness is this: expectation.

I have been learning a lesson in gratefulness from an unlikely place. Riley is a big, beautiful, brave, bold, and smart Belgian and Thoroughbred cross. At this juncture I believe she is six years old. When she was four years old I may have described her differently. More like big, beautiful, bossy, smart-ass and possibly dangerous. The difference between these two has come because of shifts in attitude, relationship, and expectation. I believe that when Riley came to us, she didn’t expect to stay. She seemed to hold out her level of trust until she, and we, felt like she belonged. And when she began to belong, she began to show her gratitude, and began to contribute. I believe also that Riley needed to be appreciated. She is a proud, sensitive girl, who can be easily offended by being pushed around or unacknowledged. Riley has taught me this lesson because she likes to make it clear that she is powerful, fast, and smarter-than-you, but that she also has a heart of gold.

I have learned to be so appreciative of everything that Riley gives me, and because of this, she offers more. My favorite past-time with her is the catching game. Not because it is fun (it’s not really), or because it shows improvement (I have yet to just walk up to her and put the halter on), but because it is the ultimate lesson in gratefulness. Every time I go out to catch Riley she leaves. Sometimes it is in irritation, sometimes it is in uncertainty, but more often lately, it is in a big show. Sometimes it takes three minutes, sometimes fifteen minutes (sometimes I just give up and get somebody else). We communicate. She shows me how fast she can run away, I show her how amazed I am. She shows me how kindly she will turn and face me when I ask, I show her how beautiful I think she is. And when finally I show her the halter, and she sticks her nose right in it, I hit the floor. Every time. I don’t expect that I will catch Riley, but I am beginning to trust that we will find each other.

Every interaction I have with that big girl causes me to be grateful. When she comes up to me with a sweet look, I am grateful. When she stays with me on line in the yard, I am grateful. When she offers softness on the rein, I am soooooo grateful. Yet with all the improvements Riley has made, I do not think that I have begun to expect anything from her. She simply won’t have that. I have, however, begun to trust her, and believe in her. And I believe that she is grateful for that.

Back to the hustle and bustle, and holiday “cheer”. I wonder if we can learn to approach life as Riley has taught me to approach her, how much more joy we would find. Can we live without expectation, and find wonder in whatever occurs? Can we be grateful to one another for even the smallest offerings? Can we enjoy the moments by learning not to expect them, like opening the gate and having the herd all step politely away, like stepping into your office in the morning and it being WARM...or cold, whatever....like coming home to a home. We do not have to take things for granted in our lives just because they are always there. We can TRUST that they will be there, and be grateful for them.

Pretty Girls Turn Heads

From the moment that RG and Zeta came to live at the residential treatment facility where I work, they were up to something. Much like the state of equine program there, it was clear that they hadn’t had some attention for quite some time. But also like our program, that was going to change.

RG and Zeta are a couple cute-as-a-button Arabian mares, donated to the program under the assumption that they are “good riding horses”. While I don’t doubt that it is in there somewhere, it remains yet to be seen. What was clearly visible, however, was the tangled mess of a tail on Zeta. Unless she had been on a recent vacation to Jamaica, I assumed that it was a result of the fact that she also was not easy to catch and this was a clear indication that she had not been handled in years. I have spent hours in my life combing out tangled tails, because I really don’t believe in cutting a horses hair, however, after we spent the time doing what it took to catch Zeta, I grabbed the nearest sharp instrument and hacked that dreadlock off. Surprisingly, what we found was that once Zeta was “in hand” she was good as gold.

RG is another story. Friendly, sociable, calm and brave. An ideal picture of what a riding horse for a kids program should be, except that we soon learned also that RG was not very sound. She had trouble standing on her rear legs, and then one day on my way out, I saw RG laying down and sensed that I should go check her out. As I walked out to see her, her friend was standing nearby, and surprisingly allowed me to walk directly up to her and touch her. She seemed to say to me, “help my friend, thanks for helping”. As I suspected, RG could not get up. Amidst the hullabaloo of trying to help out RG, these smart, sensitive Arabians accomplished their first act as therapy horses. They brought a group of employees and administrators to the necessary awareness that caring for horses is an important, and difficult job.

A curious thing about Zeta and RG coming to the program, is that everyone seemed to have an interest in them. Its hard to explain the connection that I have been feeling to Zeta, but I think that is what this story is all about- their unexplainable draw.The second miracle happened the day we went to test out Zeta’s riding knowledge. As usual we played our catching game, and I was beginning to feel that Zeta understood me and even liked me. Zeta was, as I expected, a good girl when it came to saddling, however I realized that her short Arabian back was not going to like the saddle that I had brought up. Immediately,as if out of thin air, up pulls the donation truck with a saddle that was a perfect fit for Zeta. We had a good little session; I learned that Zeta would definitely need some work, but was willing. Then, as we were leaving, an employee stops by and says that she had a group of people donate a bunch of stuff for the program, and that a company was going to donate arthritis medicine for RG. Somehow these little horses have been sending out their wish lists, and getting results.

The next thing on RG and Zeta’s agenda was an agency-wide equine therapy session. The session was scheduled to be only for a group of 6 boys, however, RG and Zeta decided that arena was too small for them, and took advantage of the open gates to take the session to the rest of the campus. You may recall that Zeta does not like to be caught, and it is very possible that I created this very incident in my mind, as I had worried about what would happen if they got out. After I was able to control my panic and fear that they would take for the road, I could enjoy the scene unfolding before me.

If you have ever seen Arabian horses run around expressing their sense of freedom, then you will know it is a captivating sight. The whole campus stopped and watched in amazement, many of them never seeing horses before. I tried to solicit help from the bystanders, but began to realize that they had no intention of getting near the wild running horses. It wouldn’t have helped anyway, what I needed were people who knew what to do, and understood how their behaviors would affect the horses. Call in our Friday afternoon group members. The six boys scheduled for a session came to the rescue, creating a boundary with their bodies and controlling their energy to guide Zeta to a safe space until she was calm enough to allow herself to be caught ( I already had RG on the line).

As the boys continued with their session (in the appropriate enclosed arena), learning about focusing their thoughts and paying attention to their body language, the rest of the campus was buzzing about horses. All of a sudden kids were asking about meeting the horses, and how they could be able to do things with them. Kids who always thought they were afraid of horses, had a sudden curiosity. Interest has been peaked for equine therapy.

In my opinion, the value of a horse is not whether you can ride them or if they can be of service to you, the value of a horse is what they can teach you. These pretty girls have taught me a lesson. We have the power to get things done, we just have to use it. You don’t know what you can get until you ask. You don’t know what people will think about something until you show them. You can make things happen if you want to, and people will join you to take up the cause. Of course, it just comes naturally when you’re as pretty as these two.

The Hunger

Predator and Prey

The skies are very active this time of year. Flocks of thousands of blackbirds swarm from field to field, roosting like black leaves on the naked trees. Vultures circle endlessly, little sparrows and bluejays flit from branch to branch in my yard. And my eyes perpetually peel the air in fear to spot the arch-nemesis of my little chicken flock, the hawk. I suppose this sudden seasonal activity is due to the need for nature to prepare herself for the cold lean winter. The skies are full of hunger.

Though I recognize that predatory behavior is a necessary part of natural life, I have to say that I cannot think of a time that it has served me. I am not a fan of my chickens getting eaten, the little rabbit I shot on one of my first hunting trips made a meager stew, and I have a sickly feeling in my stomach when I think about the sadistic joy on my dogs face when she killed a baby bunny. We are far removed from our predatory nature, buying our meat in packages and taking out our violent urges on video games. But our predation leaks out in so many ways.

There was a predator on the loose the other night. Literally. The predator was me, and I was on Loose. It was a strange experience, as I rarely get upset at Lucy, and I have learned to control my predatory urges well. However, A few things were different: I was under the stress of preparing for a competition. The competition was really not a big deal, but if you read my prior posts, you will see how it tends to affect me. We were also experiencing something called a pre-encounter environment, a term used when discussing prey behavior. This is an environment in which the prey animal is aware that there is potential for predator attack. In other words, they feel unsafe. Using a bridle is something new for me and Lucy, and as most things are when they are new, you are out of your comfort zone, on heightened alert, and less confident. The last thing that was different was that because of this pre-encounter environment, Lucy began acting like a prey animal, which is something that she rarely does.

Just like when my dog’s predatory instinct to kill kicks in when she hears the panicked squeaks of the baby rabbit, my frustration and instinct to enter into a fight and win kicked in when Lucy became right-brained and scared. All of a sudden I wanted to use force instead of psychology, and everything I knew went out the window. In fact, at one point, my husband sarcastically told me that I should just get off my horse. He was right. I knew even at the time he was right. But is that what I did? NO. Why? I was being driven by my instinct. And it did not serve me or my horse.

The predatory instinct is a survival skill, based on the need to eat large amounts of protein rich food. Humans are a strange species built for both vegetarian and carnivorous diets, with skill sets that also serve both lifestyles. However, being a social and verbal species, our predatory behavior is not just about hunger, but about obtaining other things necessary to survival- order, society, family, territory. It is is what helped us become the beings that we are today.

Horses are a very unique animal. Not only are they a prime example of prey animal: fast, sensitive, smart, alert; but they also have the qualities that have made them a prime animal to partner with man: fast, sensitive, smart, alert, brave, athletic, social. Horses are the only animal of its size built in such a way to carry humans. In fact horses have been our partners over the years in so much of our predatory acts. It is clear that horses were made to be with us, yet it is such a paradox of predator and prey.

Aesop’s fable tells of the lion and the mouse, a predator and prey animal, who learn different ways of being because of a kindness shown. The bravery of the little mouse who pulled the thorn from the lions paw is rewarded when he is then face to face with the sentence of death at the claws of his lion. The predator defies his predatory instincts and spares the life of his friend, proving that a relationship can truly change biology.

While our instincts are opposite, our willingness to form a partnership causes both species to be better for it. I’ve learned a lot from my experience of predatory instinct the other night. And the only reason that I was able to learn is because I am in a relationship with a magnificent animal that deserves to be treated differently. I realize now that cavemen must have been true barbarians until they encountered horses. It is a special animal that causes us to see the faults in ourselves, forgive us for them, cause a hunger and yearning to be a better person, and be willing to learn and grow alongside us.

Embracing the Darkness

I’ve been trying to embrace the darkness. Instead of hating that it gets dark before I even set my foot out the door to come home, I have been trying to make good use of the change, such as spending time hibernating at home with my husband, and taking the opportunity to spend undemanding time snuggling and grooming my horses. As I was enjoying my beautiful Lucy tonight and combing the massive amount of burrs out of this normally quite prim pony’s tail (it’s usually Bucky I have to worry about- I’m pretty sure he ROLLS in them...), I was reminded of why I often call her my Wild Indian Pony. I’m not sure what she loves more, greeting me with a sweet nuzzle to the neck and resting her head on my shoulder, or leading a wild bucking and running frenzy across the field with her friends when I come to catch her .

She is rather interesting in the herd as well, though by nature she often seems passive, she also never lets any of the boys push her around if she doesn’t want to. Her quiet place in the herd can quickly turn into a nasty face to protect her space. She has been interesting as my partner as well. She has shown up as a firm and opinionated teacher, yet also an obedient and willing partner.

Lucy has a swirl at the curve of her neck where a brown spot and a white spot meet. It creates a perfect symbol of what I have discovered her personality to be. It is a graceful brown and white yin-yang.

The Chinese philosophy of Yin and Yang refers to the opposite forces of nature which, as they act in turn, give rise to the other. It speaks of balance and interdependence. It comes from observation of the cycles and patterns of the universe and earth, and the symbol itself is actually a picture of the charted cycle of the winter and summer solstices.

In western thought, we often think of this philosophy as the balance between good and bad. In fact we Americans are obsessed with ideas of good and evil. Look at our favorite stories, our religions, and even our penal system. However, this philosophy does not speak of what is good or bad, merely what is opposite, yet interdependent. It does not weigh whether the yin is better than the yang. I cannot pretend to be any type of expert on this subject, but what I have gathered are that the yin and yang are three things: It is change, It is natural, and because it is natural, it has ease.

In looking at our own nature, we can see the lights and the darks. All too often, however, we are prone to judge them. As I have sat with my clients at work this week I have seen the darkness in their nature come to a head until it turns into a reflection of light. I have seen hate expressed until it turns to love, and back to hate again, for the hope of love in the future. The cycles of our emotions and relationships need these interdependent opposites. Our anger and hate and hurt is all a part of our bodies and brains working on being healthy and whole. Our sicknesses and so-called faults are all a part of us expressing who we were created to be.

It is simple, easy, and natural for Lucy to be a wild pony one minute and a golden angel the next. It can also be simple, easy, and natural for us to accept who we are and who others are in all our holy and unholy forms. This is the cycle of change. The summer can only come if winter has taken it away first. We can only love and accept ourselves if we allow ourselves to embrace our darkness first.