Chloe has decided - for now at least - that I'm not allowed to sit on her back.
If I try to climb aboard, she politely but firmly slides away and swings her tail around to face me. Not threateningly or as if to kick, but to definitively put me into a non-mounting position.
It's such a different "no" from the one she used in the days when I insisted that she be trained and ridden. Back then she was irritable and wanted us to go away and leave her alone. Now her refusal is gracious; while denying my request, she remains kind and sociable.
She is training me well.
I was sad when she wouldn't give me a piggy-back ride. But then I remembered that Chloe is generous and gives good things. I never anticipated she would want to give me a ride - yet she did. Why should I be grumpy that she has withdrawn the privilege? Why not assume she has something different, or better, in store for me? Why not trust her?
And it seems to me that this is what obedience is - to be like a child, trusting that while one gift may be withheld, other gifts will be forthcoming, and to wait in confident anticipation for the future to divulge what those gifts may be.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Friday, September 14, 2012
The Kicking Banshees Revisited
My mother used to say that the reason my brothers and I hated school was because we were treated so nicely at home that school seemed extra nasty in comparison.
I wonder if something like this is the reason why the four ponies and donkey I visited today were extra-sensitive to the former farrier. They are doted on immensely by their humans and never really have to do anything they don't want. If along comes a gruff, no-nonsense, pick-up-your-foot-and-behave-yourself farrier, it might be too much for their tender nerves. Similar to the way I used to feel about Mrs. Lindsay, God rest her soul. Whatever the reason for their sensitivity (and I was told that the donkey did not appreciate having her beautiful ears pinched), on my first visit there was a good deal of kicking, struggling, rearing, and trying to escape. However, I tried to be nice to everyone, and the owner was happy.
I returned today, resolving to adhere to The Guidelines. I explained my plan to the owner, warning her that we might not get all that much trimming done, and she gave her approval.
Things indeed went better this time - there was no kicking or rearing, and with the policy of choosing a spot and quietly leading the pony back there if it moved forward, there was no struggling or trying to escape either. The ponies remained engaged, upbeat, and friendly. We did not achieve 100% trimmage, but that was ok. The last mare up was a POA - bossy and friendly. By the time I was working on her, there were two other humans milling about, and the owner was feeding her from a bucket. It was very noticeable how all this added distraction detracted from the pony's ability to engage and cooperate. Or maybe from mine.
The last time I was here, I allowed my git 'r done focus to lead to some ends-justifies-the-means tactics, such as holding on and not letting go. This time, feeling confident that the owner was on the same page as me, I was able to relinquish some of that ego-driven desire to succeed. It's remarkable how much time is needed to really work things through with horses and how we're always trying to get to the goal fast. I think about the time George wanted to stand quietly, with me standing next to him, for an hour and three quarters. About the other day, when I stood for half an hour with Bridget until she became patient and then until she agreed to back up for me. About the first time George freely moved out of the way of the gate after I stood there expectantly for at least fifteen minutes. I managed to remember some of this today and reminded myself that if the hoof is not coming up as quickly as I want, then that's probably because I want it to come up too quickly.
Because, truthfully, I don't have anything better to do with my time.
You'll notice I haven't yet mentioned how things went with the donkey.
Let me just acknowledge right now that I am no match for a donkey. Immediately the owner fetched the donkey over, I knew my precious little "Guidelines" were going to be about as helpful as wearing a silly hat. One thing another client told me about donkeys is that you can't pull them but have to drive them from behind. So when I saw the owner having a hard time leading the donkey, I came up behind and helpfully clicked or flapped my arms or something. This worked twice. The third time, I could see the donkey react by deliberately not reacting: "I'm on to you and your little driving game." We got a small amount of trimming accomplished by dint of vast amounts of bribery and then decided to repair to a tiny grassy pen, secluded from the other ponies, who kept crowding around trying to get in on the bribery.
We didn't fare better right away, but during a pause in the action, I looked over and saw Miss Donkey coquettishly lifting her left foreleg off the ground. What's this? Do you want to give me your foot? "Why, yes, I do - why ever would I not!"
After this, I was emboldened to ask to pick up her hindfeet, which she did, briefly, and - more to the point - there was no kicking, and let me tell you, that donkey can kick.
However, she became restless, and I thought she might want to roll, so I asked the owner to cut her loose. Whereupon Miss Donkey walked to the corner of the pen and looked over at me with an unmistakably inviting expression on her face.
So - what the heck - I walked over with my nippers, and the dear donkey stood there, quite free and untied, while I quick nipped the toes of her hind hoofs. And I then I quit while I was ahead. Plus also I had, by this time, been there for over three hours, and while I don't think I have anything better to do, my family members occasionally disagree with me on this point.
Here's what I think about donkeys - I think they're plugged into Somewhere Else. Horses are too of course, in the way they are so intuitive and telepathic, but you always feel like horses return to meet you in the here and now. While I was working with the ponies, I felt we stayed connected and that they were happy to be drawn into the moment in a shared activity. But the donkey did not want to join me if I was setting the terms, and she patiently worked around my stubbornness. The first connection I felt with her was when she looked over at me and invited me to come and work on her hind feet. Up until then she was just doggedly resisting my resistance.
It reminds me of Balaam's donkey, in Numbers 22:21-34, who, on seeing an angel blocking the path, refuses to go forward and as a result is beaten by Balaam, to whom the angel is invisible. The angel is then revealed to Balaam and tells him that if he had proceeded to go forward, he would have been killed but the donkey would have been spared.
Next time, the owner and I are going to start out with Donkey free in the little pen. I hope she lets me do her feet, but she may have something else in mind.
I wonder if something like this is the reason why the four ponies and donkey I visited today were extra-sensitive to the former farrier. They are doted on immensely by their humans and never really have to do anything they don't want. If along comes a gruff, no-nonsense, pick-up-your-foot-and-behave-yourself farrier, it might be too much for their tender nerves. Similar to the way I used to feel about Mrs. Lindsay, God rest her soul. Whatever the reason for their sensitivity (and I was told that the donkey did not appreciate having her beautiful ears pinched), on my first visit there was a good deal of kicking, struggling, rearing, and trying to escape. However, I tried to be nice to everyone, and the owner was happy.
I returned today, resolving to adhere to The Guidelines. I explained my plan to the owner, warning her that we might not get all that much trimming done, and she gave her approval.
Things indeed went better this time - there was no kicking or rearing, and with the policy of choosing a spot and quietly leading the pony back there if it moved forward, there was no struggling or trying to escape either. The ponies remained engaged, upbeat, and friendly. We did not achieve 100% trimmage, but that was ok. The last mare up was a POA - bossy and friendly. By the time I was working on her, there were two other humans milling about, and the owner was feeding her from a bucket. It was very noticeable how all this added distraction detracted from the pony's ability to engage and cooperate. Or maybe from mine.
The last time I was here, I allowed my git 'r done focus to lead to some ends-justifies-the-means tactics, such as holding on and not letting go. This time, feeling confident that the owner was on the same page as me, I was able to relinquish some of that ego-driven desire to succeed. It's remarkable how much time is needed to really work things through with horses and how we're always trying to get to the goal fast. I think about the time George wanted to stand quietly, with me standing next to him, for an hour and three quarters. About the other day, when I stood for half an hour with Bridget until she became patient and then until she agreed to back up for me. About the first time George freely moved out of the way of the gate after I stood there expectantly for at least fifteen minutes. I managed to remember some of this today and reminded myself that if the hoof is not coming up as quickly as I want, then that's probably because I want it to come up too quickly.
Because, truthfully, I don't have anything better to do with my time.
You'll notice I haven't yet mentioned how things went with the donkey.
Let me just acknowledge right now that I am no match for a donkey. Immediately the owner fetched the donkey over, I knew my precious little "Guidelines" were going to be about as helpful as wearing a silly hat. One thing another client told me about donkeys is that you can't pull them but have to drive them from behind. So when I saw the owner having a hard time leading the donkey, I came up behind and helpfully clicked or flapped my arms or something. This worked twice. The third time, I could see the donkey react by deliberately not reacting: "I'm on to you and your little driving game." We got a small amount of trimming accomplished by dint of vast amounts of bribery and then decided to repair to a tiny grassy pen, secluded from the other ponies, who kept crowding around trying to get in on the bribery.
We didn't fare better right away, but during a pause in the action, I looked over and saw Miss Donkey coquettishly lifting her left foreleg off the ground. What's this? Do you want to give me your foot? "Why, yes, I do - why ever would I not!"
After this, I was emboldened to ask to pick up her hindfeet, which she did, briefly, and - more to the point - there was no kicking, and let me tell you, that donkey can kick.
However, she became restless, and I thought she might want to roll, so I asked the owner to cut her loose. Whereupon Miss Donkey walked to the corner of the pen and looked over at me with an unmistakably inviting expression on her face.
So - what the heck - I walked over with my nippers, and the dear donkey stood there, quite free and untied, while I quick nipped the toes of her hind hoofs. And I then I quit while I was ahead. Plus also I had, by this time, been there for over three hours, and while I don't think I have anything better to do, my family members occasionally disagree with me on this point.
Here's what I think about donkeys - I think they're plugged into Somewhere Else. Horses are too of course, in the way they are so intuitive and telepathic, but you always feel like horses return to meet you in the here and now. While I was working with the ponies, I felt we stayed connected and that they were happy to be drawn into the moment in a shared activity. But the donkey did not want to join me if I was setting the terms, and she patiently worked around my stubbornness. The first connection I felt with her was when she looked over at me and invited me to come and work on her hind feet. Up until then she was just doggedly resisting my resistance.
It reminds me of Balaam's donkey, in Numbers 22:21-34, who, on seeing an angel blocking the path, refuses to go forward and as a result is beaten by Balaam, to whom the angel is invisible. The angel is then revealed to Balaam and tells him that if he had proceeded to go forward, he would have been killed but the donkey would have been spared.
Next time, the owner and I are going to start out with Donkey free in the little pen. I hope she lets me do her feet, but she may have something else in mind.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Passing Go
The last time I saw these horses, things did not go well.
The dominant mare was not at all interested in cooperating, and I had to resort to taking the lead rope and making her back up before she'd let me finish. The allegedly "good" gelding was extremely nervous and cowkicked at me whenever I tried to pick up his hind feet. I never did find out what the other gelding was like, because he broke free before I even started and ran off, refusing to be caught again.
By the end, the owner was embarrassed and apologetic, and I felt like a complete loser.
Before returning yesterday, I gave some serious thought about how to approach these guys. This time, the end of the visit found both the owner and I both feeling very good about how things went. And the horses felt good too.
The reason for this happier outcome? .... I adhered to the following guidelines:
1. Do not try to work with any foot that is not freely offered. Wait for the foot to come up.
2. Be willing to not pick up the foot at all.
3. If necessary - if working with one particular foot seems to bother the horse - ask permission before even approaching that leg.
4. Always return a foot when asked.
5. If the horse snatches, it's ok to hold on a little longer - just long enough to gently place the foot on the ground, thus demonstrating how to politely take one's foot back.
6. Start with the front feet, because horses are less reactive with their forelegs, and you can demonstrate to them that they're in control of the situation before moving on to the twitchy hindlegs.
7. Designate a particular spot for trimming and stick to it. We picked a shady patch behind the house.
8. The owner should hold the horse on a loose rope.
9. If the horse pushes forward out of position, the owner should quietly walk it in a small circle back to the original position.
10. Don't allow the horse to change the subject: the subject is hoof trimming. The horse can decide that no trimming will take place, but the conversation must continue to be about trimming or the lack thereof, and not about eating or leaving.
Following all these guidelines made the experience completely different from the last time. None of the horses received a complete trim, but they have good feet which wear well on the rocky terrain, and the owner and I agreed that actually completing the trim was not our No.1 goal.
The nervous gelding became calm and focussed. He began to offer me his forefeet and allow me to work on them. When he - literally - put a foot down and wouldn't pick it up again, that was ok. He allowed me to do his LH but was reactive with his RH, picking it up and using it to to shove me aside. This was my cue to step back and ask permission to approach the leg. Permission was denied (by means of head turning, eyes narrowing, and ears flattening) every time. So we left it alone.
The runaway gelding was helpful with his front feet but very reactive with his hinds. When he saw I was headed towards a hind leg, he exaggeratedly and nervously lifted the leg way up in the air and hopped about. I responded by stepping back and waiting for a minute or two before touching his leg gently to ask him to pick it up. This time he didn't move and didn't offer to pick up his foot. So I said ok and stepped back again. I can't tell you how empowering it was for both me and the horse to open up this beautiful avenue of not-having-to-achieve-the-goal. I asked a couple more times and accepted his refusal a couple more times. Then he started offering to pick it up, ever so slightly. I settled for a quick look at both hinds and let it go at that. When he was set free, I swear he gave me a hug.
The dominant mare came last, and the owner had a job catching her. Horses and human disappeared on the other side of the house, and I stood waiting, enjoying the beautiful afternoon. Finally the owner reappeared leading the mare, with her equine entourage clustered around, and we got started. At first, every time the mare took a front foot away, she would use that as an opportunity to walk forward. The owner would then quietly lead her back into position. After a few tries, she stopped. When it came time to work on the hind feet and I approached her LH, she swung away. So I stepped back. After this was repeated three or four times, she allowed me to approach and offered the foot. She was reluctant, however, to lift up her RH - I think perhaps she was finding it a little difficult to balance without that leg. Something made me decide to step back and, not touching her, to just wait confidently for her pick up her foot. Sure enough, with me standing a couple of feet away, she figured out how to balance and lifted up the foot.
What was striking about the whole procedure was the way the horses each became calm and centered. Instead of trying to escape, both mentally and physically, they settled down and were present. Last time, after each one was was done, he or she made a quick getaway. This time they stayed. And when I was trimming the mare, who was last to be done, the geldings hovered around, nosing my hair and nibbling my clothes. Last time they said, "You're on your own, Madam Mare, we're outta here!"
I told the owner I was appreciative that she and I could work together like this. Last time, I put pressure on myself to get the job done, but we agreed that the work we did together this time was more valuable than getting hoofs trimmed.
Attending the proceedings also was an adorable yearling Percheron colt with adorable, round, perfectly self-trimmed feet.
Tomorrow I'm returning to the kicking banshees, and I will try following the same guidelines. Wish me luck.
p.s. We are homeschooling again. One of the perks - Latin at the picnic table with Bridget.
The dominant mare was not at all interested in cooperating, and I had to resort to taking the lead rope and making her back up before she'd let me finish. The allegedly "good" gelding was extremely nervous and cowkicked at me whenever I tried to pick up his hind feet. I never did find out what the other gelding was like, because he broke free before I even started and ran off, refusing to be caught again.
By the end, the owner was embarrassed and apologetic, and I felt like a complete loser.
Before returning yesterday, I gave some serious thought about how to approach these guys. This time, the end of the visit found both the owner and I both feeling very good about how things went. And the horses felt good too.
The reason for this happier outcome? .... I adhered to the following guidelines:
1. Do not try to work with any foot that is not freely offered. Wait for the foot to come up.
2. Be willing to not pick up the foot at all.
3. If necessary - if working with one particular foot seems to bother the horse - ask permission before even approaching that leg.
4. Always return a foot when asked.
5. If the horse snatches, it's ok to hold on a little longer - just long enough to gently place the foot on the ground, thus demonstrating how to politely take one's foot back.
6. Start with the front feet, because horses are less reactive with their forelegs, and you can demonstrate to them that they're in control of the situation before moving on to the twitchy hindlegs.
7. Designate a particular spot for trimming and stick to it. We picked a shady patch behind the house.
8. The owner should hold the horse on a loose rope.
9. If the horse pushes forward out of position, the owner should quietly walk it in a small circle back to the original position.
10. Don't allow the horse to change the subject: the subject is hoof trimming. The horse can decide that no trimming will take place, but the conversation must continue to be about trimming or the lack thereof, and not about eating or leaving.
Following all these guidelines made the experience completely different from the last time. None of the horses received a complete trim, but they have good feet which wear well on the rocky terrain, and the owner and I agreed that actually completing the trim was not our No.1 goal.
The nervous gelding became calm and focussed. He began to offer me his forefeet and allow me to work on them. When he - literally - put a foot down and wouldn't pick it up again, that was ok. He allowed me to do his LH but was reactive with his RH, picking it up and using it to to shove me aside. This was my cue to step back and ask permission to approach the leg. Permission was denied (by means of head turning, eyes narrowing, and ears flattening) every time. So we left it alone.
The runaway gelding was helpful with his front feet but very reactive with his hinds. When he saw I was headed towards a hind leg, he exaggeratedly and nervously lifted the leg way up in the air and hopped about. I responded by stepping back and waiting for a minute or two before touching his leg gently to ask him to pick it up. This time he didn't move and didn't offer to pick up his foot. So I said ok and stepped back again. I can't tell you how empowering it was for both me and the horse to open up this beautiful avenue of not-having-to-achieve-the-goal. I asked a couple more times and accepted his refusal a couple more times. Then he started offering to pick it up, ever so slightly. I settled for a quick look at both hinds and let it go at that. When he was set free, I swear he gave me a hug.
The dominant mare came last, and the owner had a job catching her. Horses and human disappeared on the other side of the house, and I stood waiting, enjoying the beautiful afternoon. Finally the owner reappeared leading the mare, with her equine entourage clustered around, and we got started. At first, every time the mare took a front foot away, she would use that as an opportunity to walk forward. The owner would then quietly lead her back into position. After a few tries, she stopped. When it came time to work on the hind feet and I approached her LH, she swung away. So I stepped back. After this was repeated three or four times, she allowed me to approach and offered the foot. She was reluctant, however, to lift up her RH - I think perhaps she was finding it a little difficult to balance without that leg. Something made me decide to step back and, not touching her, to just wait confidently for her pick up her foot. Sure enough, with me standing a couple of feet away, she figured out how to balance and lifted up the foot.
What was striking about the whole procedure was the way the horses each became calm and centered. Instead of trying to escape, both mentally and physically, they settled down and were present. Last time, after each one was was done, he or she made a quick getaway. This time they stayed. And when I was trimming the mare, who was last to be done, the geldings hovered around, nosing my hair and nibbling my clothes. Last time they said, "You're on your own, Madam Mare, we're outta here!"
I told the owner I was appreciative that she and I could work together like this. Last time, I put pressure on myself to get the job done, but we agreed that the work we did together this time was more valuable than getting hoofs trimmed.
Attending the proceedings also was an adorable yearling Percheron colt with adorable, round, perfectly self-trimmed feet.
Tomorrow I'm returning to the kicking banshees, and I will try following the same guidelines. Wish me luck.
p.s. We are homeschooling again. One of the perks - Latin at the picnic table with Bridget.
 |
| Mentum equae a puellae pede scabitur. |
Saturday, September 8, 2012
Chloga
I have recently adopted a new pursuit - yoga. The main snag with this is that our local yoga class meets at 6 a.m. So we'll see.
However, I do have Chloe to help me as well. When I sit on her back, I find myself constantly tipping forward. It is extremely hard to tilt my pelvis in such a way as to allow my sitting bones to sink securely onto Chloe, and at the same time to allow my legs to rotate outwards so that I'm not pinching myself up off her back. I would have these same difficulties sitting on a regular-sized horse, but on Chloe they're magnified on account of her narrowness.
If I can't sit safely on Chloe, then any feeling I've ever experienced of having a good seat on a larger horse is probably an illusion. I flatter myself I'm getting a teeny, tiny bit better at sitting on Chloe, who is extremely patient with my wiggling and jiggling.
My current rule is that I can't get on Chloe unless she actually tells me to. I can't ask her and then get up if she says yes; I have to wait until she suggests it of her own accord. Of course, if hanging around expectantly, like a little kid waiting for its turn on the swings, counts as asking, then I guess I'm a hypocrite.
Today we had a very nice time together on the lawn, with some scratching, some "riding," and some quiet companionship. I think I need a few more hours of sitting Chloga, with a few short walking intervals - and then maybe I'll be ready for some trotting Chloga, if she ever feels like it of course. Perhaps then I might be ready to ride a big horse.
p.s. Today, I was out and my husband wanted to put Chloe back in the pasture so he could leave too. Chloe was near the gate, and he opened it. She didn't react at first and just stood, waiting. He waited too, and after a little while she walked in. He told me that if we hadn't had the conversations we've had lately, he'd've probably tried to shoo her in. Instead he waited and allowed her to wait, and it worked out.
However, I do have Chloe to help me as well. When I sit on her back, I find myself constantly tipping forward. It is extremely hard to tilt my pelvis in such a way as to allow my sitting bones to sink securely onto Chloe, and at the same time to allow my legs to rotate outwards so that I'm not pinching myself up off her back. I would have these same difficulties sitting on a regular-sized horse, but on Chloe they're magnified on account of her narrowness.
If I can't sit safely on Chloe, then any feeling I've ever experienced of having a good seat on a larger horse is probably an illusion. I flatter myself I'm getting a teeny, tiny bit better at sitting on Chloe, who is extremely patient with my wiggling and jiggling.
My current rule is that I can't get on Chloe unless she actually tells me to. I can't ask her and then get up if she says yes; I have to wait until she suggests it of her own accord. Of course, if hanging around expectantly, like a little kid waiting for its turn on the swings, counts as asking, then I guess I'm a hypocrite.
Today we had a very nice time together on the lawn, with some scratching, some "riding," and some quiet companionship. I think I need a few more hours of sitting Chloga, with a few short walking intervals - and then maybe I'll be ready for some trotting Chloga, if she ever feels like it of course. Perhaps then I might be ready to ride a big horse.
p.s. Today, I was out and my husband wanted to put Chloe back in the pasture so he could leave too. Chloe was near the gate, and he opened it. She didn't react at first and just stood, waiting. He waited too, and after a little while she walked in. He told me that if we hadn't had the conversations we've had lately, he'd've probably tried to shoo her in. Instead he waited and allowed her to wait, and it worked out.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Respect
This morning, during Mass, I wondered about "fear of God." I like to think of God as a positive, kindly, on-my-side kind of a guy. But as I knelt in my pew, I remembered that "fear of God is the beginning of wisdom," and I wondered if I had become a little too comfortable in the face of His providence.
On returning home, what should I find waiting for me in my inbox but a message from Chabad.org Magazine titled, "Are We Supposed to be Afraid of G-d?"
Following the link contained in the email lead me to an article by Aron Moss. In his understanding, "fear" is not an apt translation of the concept contained in the phrase "fear of God." The idea is better conveyed by the word "respect."
In the last couple of years, I have begun to learn to step back and be willing to not approach. To forgo a physical approach - and also to refrain (often) from approaching the horse with my plans, my program, my agenda.
In turn, the horses have begun to approach me. As I have stopped prodding and pressing them, they seem to have gradually, in front of my eyes, assumed a shape and character to which I was blind as long as I tried to control them.
As I suggested in a recent post, when Moshiach comes, no doubt the horses will help tell us where to go, and when, and I like to think Chloe and friends are teaching me to get ready to listen up good. The immediate answer I received to my question about the fear of God, and the way the answer had so clear a relevance to my relationship with the horses - how can I not believe?
In the meantime, however, that Bridget still needs to be a teeny bit more polite about backing up.
On returning home, what should I find waiting for me in my inbox but a message from Chabad.org Magazine titled, "Are We Supposed to be Afraid of G-d?"
Following the link contained in the email lead me to an article by Aron Moss. In his understanding, "fear" is not an apt translation of the concept contained in the phrase "fear of God." The idea is better conveyed by the word "respect."
The difference between love and respect is that when I love, I am preoccupied with my feelings toward you; when I respect, I am focusing on your presence rather than mine. Love is my desire to approach you. Respect is my deference to your otherness, your right to be who you are. When you love someone but do not respect them, it ends up being all about you. The other is simply an object of your love; their opinion is not taken seriously, and they are not treated as a real being.This certainly rings a bell for me. I have always been drawn to horses, and my love for them has always made me want to approach them. But their allure often ended up causing me to try and possess them, to make them in my own image, to force them to validate me - instead of allowing them the space to be who they are.
In the last couple of years, I have begun to learn to step back and be willing to not approach. To forgo a physical approach - and also to refrain (often) from approaching the horse with my plans, my program, my agenda.
In turn, the horses have begun to approach me. As I have stopped prodding and pressing them, they seem to have gradually, in front of my eyes, assumed a shape and character to which I was blind as long as I tried to control them.
As I suggested in a recent post, when Moshiach comes, no doubt the horses will help tell us where to go, and when, and I like to think Chloe and friends are teaching me to get ready to listen up good. The immediate answer I received to my question about the fear of God, and the way the answer had so clear a relevance to my relationship with the horses - how can I not believe?
In the meantime, however, that Bridget still needs to be a teeny bit more polite about backing up.
 |
| Evening on the Lawn |
Monday, September 3, 2012
Training June
Chloe spent some time out on the lawn this evening, grazing in the gathering dusk - with me sitting on her back.
Chloe has raised the bar a little. She expects me to be quicker climbing onto her back. Today, she came over to collect me, waited while I tried to get up, stopped briefly when I failed, and then walked off without me.
Later, I managed to mount up, and we wandered about the yard eating grass. When it finally became quite dark, I hopped off Chloe and shooed her towards the pasture gate. She declined and instead went through an open gate into the empty field. She stood waiting.
When I came over to her, she pawed at me and shoved me with her head. I moved into mounting position and was waiting for her to signal with her head that I should get up. But then I realized that I was standing in mounting position in obedience to her pawing and shoving, and that there was no point in waiting for further permission. She was obviously standing there waiting for me to get up; so I did.
With me back on board, she set off again to graze the lawn. I sat on her back for a while longer before finally dismounting. As Chloe refused to take the hint and head for the gate, I fetched the halter and leadrope and managed to convince her to rejoin the others in the pasture.
I wanted to sit on her this evening until she told me to get off. I don't know what she might say to get me off, but I expect it would be quite clear. At one point, she knocked my leg with her head, but it was a clumsy bump, and I think she was trying to get rid of a fly. In any case, she didn't repeat it. One of these days I'll have to set aside a long period of time and stay on as long as she wants. Maybe I'll bring a book.
Chloe has raised the bar a little. She expects me to be quicker climbing onto her back. Today, she came over to collect me, waited while I tried to get up, stopped briefly when I failed, and then walked off without me.
Later, I managed to mount up, and we wandered about the yard eating grass. When it finally became quite dark, I hopped off Chloe and shooed her towards the pasture gate. She declined and instead went through an open gate into the empty field. She stood waiting.
When I came over to her, she pawed at me and shoved me with her head. I moved into mounting position and was waiting for her to signal with her head that I should get up. But then I realized that I was standing in mounting position in obedience to her pawing and shoving, and that there was no point in waiting for further permission. She was obviously standing there waiting for me to get up; so I did.
With me back on board, she set off again to graze the lawn. I sat on her back for a while longer before finally dismounting. As Chloe refused to take the hint and head for the gate, I fetched the halter and leadrope and managed to convince her to rejoin the others in the pasture.
I wanted to sit on her this evening until she told me to get off. I don't know what she might say to get me off, but I expect it would be quite clear. At one point, she knocked my leg with her head, but it was a clumsy bump, and I think she was trying to get rid of a fly. In any case, she didn't repeat it. One of these days I'll have to set aside a long period of time and stay on as long as she wants. Maybe I'll bring a book.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Lead, Kindly Chloe
I loved to choose and see my path;
But now lead Thou me on.
John Henry Newman
He may have his little thoughts.
Celia, Middlemarch, Chapter 50
There is a tradition in Judaism which teaches that when Moshiach comes, the established order will be reversed. Instead of man being the head of woman, woman will be the head of man.
She stands by the fence, waiting to be let out. When she is released, her first order of business - before setting off to graze - is to load me up onto her back. Why? I don't know. Perhaps she's training me.
The other day, we had a party at our house, and two of the guests - little girls aged 6 and 8 - wanted pony rides. Chloe was reasonably gracious about allowing the little girls to sit on her back, but she made it quite clear that she was not going to cooperate with any such nonsense as being lead around in the direction of someone else's choosing. She wasn't cross, or mean, or anxious about it. She just said no. She always used to start by saying no back in the days when I would have insisted she obey, only in those days she would have been anxious and cranky. Nowadays when she says no, she just looks at me quite kindly as she refuses. And I say, "Ok, you're the boss." Well, sometimes first I say, "Oh, please, pretty please, couldn't you please, just this once ..." And then I give up.
The next day, the effrontery of my behavior towards her with the little girls apparently had not left too bad a taste in her mouth, because she put me on her back as usual. If I'm slow in getting up and she starts moving with me only half-way into position, she stops, waits, and starts again once I'm properly up.
I realize I just absolutely have to totally give up trying to make Chloe behave anything like a "normal" pony. When a little girl asks for a pony ride, I'll tell her that George (who has a mild, avuncular interest in being helpful with children and beginners) will oblige. But if the little girl insists on Chloe, I'll tell her she's welcome to ask Chloe for a piggyback ride, but that Chloe only goes where Chloe wants, and that's the way it should be.
I love letting Chloe be in charge. When I was little, my dreams of being on a horse did not consist of riding dressage exercises, or sailing over a round of jumps, or riding in the circus - I dreamed of being taken on the back of a magic horse to places I never knew about before.
1. Sarah Schneider, "Voice of the Bride," Moshiach101.com
2. "Moshiach's Donkey," Moshiach 101.com
But now lead Thou me on.
John Henry Newman
He may have his little thoughts.
Celia, Middlemarch, Chapter 50
There is a tradition in Judaism which teaches that when Moshiach comes, the established order will be reversed. Instead of man being the head of woman, woman will be the head of man.
It is taught in Chassidic and Kabbalistic literature that the polarities of masculine and feminine will eventually invert. There will come a time, blessed and welcomed by all, when the feminine will have greater access to transcendent consciousness, and when she will bestow and man will receive from her.1
In a world thus transformed, the body will no longer be subject to the head, but rather the body will become a conduit of light for the head. Material creation, presently distanced from the spiritual realm and dependent on receiving light indirectly, trickling down through more elevated levels, becomes instead directly connected to and inhabited by the source of light itself.
So Moshiach, who represents the ultimate fulfillment of Torah, himself rides the donkey of the material. For he heralds a world in which the material is no longer the lower or secondary element, but an utterly refined resource, no less central and significant a force for good than the most spiritual creation.2And so it is with Chloe.
She stands by the fence, waiting to be let out. When she is released, her first order of business - before setting off to graze - is to load me up onto her back. Why? I don't know. Perhaps she's training me.
The other day, we had a party at our house, and two of the guests - little girls aged 6 and 8 - wanted pony rides. Chloe was reasonably gracious about allowing the little girls to sit on her back, but she made it quite clear that she was not going to cooperate with any such nonsense as being lead around in the direction of someone else's choosing. She wasn't cross, or mean, or anxious about it. She just said no. She always used to start by saying no back in the days when I would have insisted she obey, only in those days she would have been anxious and cranky. Nowadays when she says no, she just looks at me quite kindly as she refuses. And I say, "Ok, you're the boss." Well, sometimes first I say, "Oh, please, pretty please, couldn't you please, just this once ..." And then I give up.
The next day, the effrontery of my behavior towards her with the little girls apparently had not left too bad a taste in her mouth, because she put me on her back as usual. If I'm slow in getting up and she starts moving with me only half-way into position, she stops, waits, and starts again once I'm properly up.
I realize I just absolutely have to totally give up trying to make Chloe behave anything like a "normal" pony. When a little girl asks for a pony ride, I'll tell her that George (who has a mild, avuncular interest in being helpful with children and beginners) will oblige. But if the little girl insists on Chloe, I'll tell her she's welcome to ask Chloe for a piggyback ride, but that Chloe only goes where Chloe wants, and that's the way it should be.
I love letting Chloe be in charge. When I was little, my dreams of being on a horse did not consist of riding dressage exercises, or sailing over a round of jumps, or riding in the circus - I dreamed of being taken on the back of a magic horse to places I never knew about before.
 |
| Chloe waits by the fence. |
1. Sarah Schneider, "Voice of the Bride," Moshiach101.com
2. "Moshiach's Donkey," Moshiach 101.com
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