The focus of this journey for me has been on getting out on the trail. This focus has brought about feelings of excitement, apprehension, frustration, and wonder. I’m having a hard time finding a balance between wanting to now all the details and letting go and putting my trust into this expedition. Openness to the unknown is becoming more and more important as our departure date draws near, but I’m afraid of getting lost, both literally and figuratively. In the midst of this expansive chaos, the expedition became real for a couple of days on shakedown. We were out, we were riding, we were sleeping under the stars. The morning smelled like grain and burnt rice. The evening accented by the creaks and moans of the slow turning windmill. Feeling painfully aware of muscles we never knew we had. This is real.
This is real
September 7, 2009 at 1:22 am (Eleni, Shake Down)
Tags: balance, Beginnings, Shake Down, trust
Shakedown or Shakeup?
September 5, 2009 at 9:10 pm (Chris, CLS, Shake Down)
Tags: balance, coyote, horse, human, ponying mules, reflection, Toby, wild spirit
Conscious coyote sneaks in between our horses legs while we’re not looking. And when we’re curled up for the night she licks our faces beneath thick brooding skies to tickle out dormant yearnings. There’s something special about the smell of desert rain. But it evaporates as quickly as shadows in the naked sun. The rhythm of horses across dry hills of rock and thorn is sobering. No kind branches to cast shadows on our soft skin, fragile bodies of flesh and bones carried by these enormous beats, these kind creatures balanced between two worlds. As gentle as Toby’s (my new horse companion’s) eyes are, I was roughly, and quite unexpectedly, reminded of his wild tendencies. Just as we were arriving back at the ranch, he burst into a gallop faster than a crack of lightning appears and vanishes before your eyes. Pumping muscle and pounding hooves thundered beneath me like my own personal (and uninvited) earthquake. The ground beneath me blurred as I reached for the flying reins. Time stopped, yet my mind raced frantically. Somehow, while everything and nothing was happening all at once, some part of me (not necessarily with the rests permission) decided I’d be better off on the ground now, rather than later. The next second I was sliding across the grass faster, farther, and longer than I would have ever thought possible. I came to a stop, watching Toby disappear into the distance. Within my rattled body, tears began to push against the dams of my throat and eyes. It wasn’t the fall itself; it was the sense of discord—this struggle that had built up like a pressure cooker all day long, and finally burst. That day I was left with many questions. How can this relationship become more than just a battle of wills? At first I was upset that Toby and the mule I was ponying (leading with a rope) weren’t listening. Now, I realize I need to consider when to give my horse, and myself, a break. But I still wonder how this can be an adventure for Toby, as much as it is for me. What gives him joy beyond the grain that he desperately devours like candy? I don’t have the answers, but will keep asking the questions. Although my black and swollen toe might severely disagree, I am still curious about the wild spirit of these amazing animals. It is intensely intoxicating, yet not something to take lightly.
