Week 23 - The magic feather

I've been visiting this page in my mind for days now, formulating thoughts and things to write and wondering who I write for other than myself. So, Judith, this is for you.... and for Reggie. A way to order the disorder and give you something to look back on, cyberspace willing, when the body and brain are too old for the adventures and discoveries life affords you now.

The last time I came here was 19th June. Seven weeks, or maybe almost a summer, ago. We have learned tonnes in a summer which amounts to, as I increasingly discover, no more than people who've shared their life with horses for a lifetime know already and take for granted. My epiphanies dull into insignificance in sharing so the shine stays longer and brighter when I savour them examining them for the learning they gift me.

Some high points of our summer have been:

Heading off to Camp with Emma. I had no idea what to expect meaning that my stomach travelled ahead of my body and my finger nails barely made the journey. Emma asked me "are you excited?". I didn't know. I was something, but it had no name and wouldn't take shape. "Tentative" was the best approximation  I could find. As it turned out "Camp" meant "getting to be with  Reggie in a beautiful space with room to safely annihilate mind monsters that might otherwise eat me". There was an abandonment about being there with Emma. She gave me total permission, before and during, to only  tickle the mind monsters. If any of them bit me I had permission to box them and leave them there. As it happened none of them did which is what I think happens when you give them space to breathe but not own you. I was prepared for monsters. They didn't come. I was not prepared for life lessons, but they did.  Tackling the water was on my wish list (and Emmas). So, on the first night we bundled Reggie and Ryan out "in hand". Our excitement overrode the need to eat and our "in hand" travail to the water holes was lacking in carbohydrate sustenance. Neither of us even noticed. Emma took the lead in "leading the horses to water". "Suited and leather booted" she plopped right into the middle of the pond, Ryan behind her whilst Reggie and I stood awe struck trying to drum up the courage, not to go in the water, but to live with that level of excitement, courage, abandonment and wet leather boots. Try as I might, not even the desperate urge to live joyfully propelled us into the water that night. Reggie and I cracked it in the end, with Emmas support, and spent a good while with the sun on our back sploshing through water.

Late addition to post courtesy of Emma Machin (thank you Emma xxx). Listen out for self satisfied chuckle at the end :-)

Summer 2019. Lesson 1 (gifted with hindsight). Emmas boots survived. However even if they hadn't the value of the lesson far outweighed their material value. Judith, when you are 80 and reading this don't forget to live joyfully. Get your boots wet sometimes.

Reggie and I went to school for a week. I tackled that one like a fugitive dishing out vague and clandestine messages about where exactly we were going to anyone who asked lest they "judge" the wisdom of the decision or want to pass comment on "that particular school of equestrian thought". In short over the week we did  groundwork, groundwork, groundwork and I learned basics that led me to conclude that, as with driving a car, before anyone is deemed worthy to ride or own a horse, they (I) should pass a test. I should have known this stuff before I was let loose on Marley and Mila. I was the only participant that took their horse with them, and so Reggie offered himself up into demo after demo. The value of the input we got far outweighed the investment in course fees, but I was so head shot by the re-learning that I am only really starting to be able to use it weeks later.

Summer 2019. Lesson 2 (gifted with hindsight). I think Reggie weighs three quarters of a tonne. Up until the course I worked with Reggie by "amplifying" my message as though size matters. (Like when people shout and gesticulate to people whose first spoken language is not the same as theirs). What I learned is that I've used amplification. It is the equivalent of SHOUTING FOR FOUR YEARS. Not "shouting" by human standards, I don't mean shouting literally. The course re-taught me something I've taught at work, but just not connected in this context. Speaking (when you can't use words) is about "being in a constant state of communication with the world around you". That's how horses do it. So, I've discovered kindness, body language and gentle understanding are far more effective in building a dialogue with a creature that can feel a fly land on his shoulder than arm flapping and shoving.

Week 21 was intense. I withdrew from human interaction. Totally overloaded. I've learned clarity and volume are not the same thing. Clarity and volume are not the same thing. Clarity and volume are not the same thing and I am learning to swap one for the other.

Judith, when you are 80 and reading this remember a feather is far more powerful than a megaphone, crop, flapping arms and raised voices. As Dumbo knows a feather is magic, when you know how to use it.

We went to Marlborough, Steve walked with us. We discovered field margins and we played in them.

Mum met Reggie. Another snapshot held in memory for all time.

We went up Crooks Peak with Charlotte. We looked out over the whole of Somerset. Kings and Queens of Summer 2019.

We started hacking out with Lauren and Roger and watched the gentlest war on head monsters that's ever been waged and won.

We went to visit Lisa (Reggie's first owner).

We went to visit Mila (the burnished copper sunshine, "with an attitude").

Reggie and I started "on Board lessons" and discovered we are not quite as shit as I mentally and outwardly promote us as.

Reggie and I started ground-work lessons. We are growing the seeds of the ability to converse, quietly, with mutual respect and kindness.

Summer 2019. Lesson 3 (gifted with foresight). Judith, when you are 80 and reading this remember that summer (2019) that you said "Yes" and just kept walking toward happy. Keep saying "Yes". Walk. Towards. Happy.

Live like this: