A Centaurs Journey Blog

Traveling with horses, we examine what it means to learn from and be partners with animals. We have spent at least 15 minutes of undemanding time every day sitting with our horses and trying to examine the relationship between us and them, and more often in my case, us to them. As I sit with Hardy, who tends to ignore me, chewing his grass looking up only to search my hands for grain, I can’t help but wonder…partners? Really? He had no choice to come out here. He is not in shape to be out here, and the occasional bite marks on my shoulder would prove that he sure as heck doesn’t like putting a saddle on. I take care of him.  Being a domesticated animal he is dependent on the human world and subjected to what we believe is best for him…but is traveling along the Arizona trail for 800 miles for a trip that is for pure human enhancement creating a partnership between human and animal? He has food, shelter, and water. And he is contributing. So he is alive, he is horse. So what about this “fully” business?  What about happiness, enjoyment from our tasks, what is his choice in finding giddiness. How can I help him be fully-horse? Is it foolish to try and apply human ideals and language like “happy”, “enjoy”, or “fully-alive” to other species? Or, by not giving other creatures on this planet the opportunity to be fully what they are do we justify the manipulation, exploitation and disregard for the things that are vital to us being fully human? I find myself in the latter. I am out of excuses. Being alive is sacrifice. A fact. A truth. We move through the world by taking…and contributing…and taking again. If we can look at animals (and plants) with eyes that recognize their worth as fellow earth beings deserving of being fully themselves, we can begin to recognize the gift that life and also our need to give back where we can. So yes, I kiss my horse, I call him sugar, I walk next to him instead of riding him, and I try to understand what he enjoys and how he can contribute to the world in ways that are not degrading and demote him to a tool. I do believe that some horses do love to carry their humans, and when it feels necessary, like it or not, I feel like it is a reasonable request of the horse. However, I don’t see it as necessary for me on this trip as of yet. Hardy and I hiked through the canyon side by side, he was saddleless, packless, shoeless, and happy. And I was with a backpack smiling and enjoying his company and enjoying his giddiness. Riding him would not have been giving him a job or asking a reasonable request of him. I love to walk, I can walk. Riding him would have felt like just doing what made sense in the patterns and nature of the society I’m living in. I hope to be more aware of what the patterns are; what are the structures and habits that I obey without thinking about the alternatives and the ultimate costs. What is the other option? Is it any better? Riding a horse is not animal cruelty, but not being aware of what you are asking of the horse (of the world when we use it) is cruelty to self and to other.

This trip has been an excellent opportunity for all of us to spend time think about what it means to live intentionally. Part of this is thinking about how to be intentional about what we eat, as it is such a vital part of our daily lives. I have become vegan, connotations and all. Having adopted such a label, I feel a need to reclaim my identity as an individual and clarify. Labels help with function, they do not help with meaning.

Being Vegan for me is not about the death or suffering of animals. I do not need to see animals sent to rescues to live with a/c, three meals a day, and a temper-pedic bed to sleep in. I do not need to see animal suffering end.  I too am alive and will suffer and I will die; do what you will with my body. Let me contribute where I can. I am not obsessed with extending the life of animals; I don’t want to subject them to the weird customs of the human world; they do not need to be like us who extend our lives as long as possible, avoiding the reality of death and facing it only when it finally knocks (or slams the door in) and, being so filled with drugs at that point, that we can even camouflage the reality of pain and, as if a final protest were needed, locking our bodies away in a box to preserve (what I’m not sure) just so as, even in the end, we contribute as little as possible back to the earth, once more saying, this is mine, I consume, I do not contribute.(deep breath).

No, I am not concerned with pain or with death. I am concerned with life. Did the animal, domesticated or not, get a chance to be fully-whatever it is? In elitist circles we sit and debate the idea of being fully human. Food, shelter, water…are we Happy? What do we enjoy? How can we contribute in meaningful ways that align with our souls? What is the meaning of life (our lives of course)? What would it mean to be fully-alive, in whatever creature body you are given…coyote, rose, aspen, goat, horse? What is their “fully”? Did it get to pursue its purpose and did it get the chance to be something other than an offering to the already illustrious human god with its gifts spilling out of junk-yard craters? Did it get to see, smell, touch, and roll around in the dirt of the world?

Of course, the next question for me will be: how do I define whether or not this animal has had that fully-alive chance? And also, how is me defining a creature’s purpose any different from the large scale meat-producing plants defining their purpose as pure and simple food. Why is my definition any better than theirs? Maybe it’s not. Perhaps it’s just another way for me to define my personal way of becoming fully human. Without seeing, recognizing and being aware of where my food comes from—what has been sacrificed for me to live—I will not understand what it is to be fully human. It is a sacrifice to be alive and it can be hard to realize that amid the neon colors of the grocery store.  In my advanced frontal lobe world, I’d like to believe my new diet somehow serves the animals being exploited by human extreme consumerism in some powerful and meaningful way—that maybe I am supporting the well-being of the animal soul—but ultimately, I am just being another conscience consumer looking for meaning amongst the chaos. Vegan. Bowhunter. Searcher. Human. Animal.