Beast of Burden, Keeper of My Heart

“To look into the eye of a horse is to see a reflection of yourself that you might’ve forgotten.” — Gillian Mears

Magical equine energy. Esoteric. You don’t have to understand it or even believe in it, but it exists. When watching horses in a free environment, if you observe, you will see a mystical presence swirling through their manes and tails and dancing across their shiny hides. Collectively, the herd is one being. Channeling the spirits around them, horses are the bridge between realms of awareness.

Animals offer love in its purest form. With no ulterior motive and not a selfish thought in mind, animals hurt no one. Honest in how they interact, animals have never intentionally hurt me. I am blessed to have lived a life rich in time spent with dogs and horses, two of the most receptive animal species on earth. They gave me a glimpse into an alternative existence.

The essences around us. Animals see with their heart so much more than humans can begin to understand.

Horses have influenced my life beginning at age eight when my mother and her brother, my Uncle Ed, orchestrated getting my first pony, Frisky. A chestnut pinto gelding about ten hands high, Frisky was as spunky as his name. My introduction to equine energy, before I even knew it existed, began with this little pony.

It was Frisky who first taught me the many lessons about communication. Learning the hard way when I made mistakes, or thinking I am so smart when things went smoothly, I soon realized it wasn’t I who was deciding. At first, I just let the mystery remain unexplored.

It wasn’t my intention, but equine mystique insisted on being recognized. Bucked off and sprawled out in the dust, my first lesson took shape. Looking up at his curious muzzle that sniffed at me and snorted a little, my pony seemed to smile and ask, “How’d you end up down there?”

While riding, maybe my hands were heavy on the reins, and I hurt his mouth. Or perhaps I squirming too much making him uncomfortable. In any case, I had missed the warning signs, and this oversight taught me what happens if I am not respectful. I quickly developed effective nonverbal communication listening skills. Nonverbal language is not complicated, and few ‘words’ are needed.

Later, I learned about trust and the responsibility of having and maintaining it. Again, from the ground looking up, I saw the wisdom of the lesson in my pony’s eyes when I was thrown forward as she followed my commands until her sense of self-preservation took over.

We had been running full speed ahead when we came to a fork with one path on each side of a pie-shaped fence. I cued right, then changed my mind, thinking my pony wanted to go left towards home. Responding to my cues, the pony leaped right, then left. With no clear direction, we continued straight ahead towards the fence in the middle. Based on our ground-covering speed, our time to choose ran out. Unable to continue straight, the pony slammed on the brakes inches before the fence that stood between our choices, sending me headfirst into the railings.

Dazed but uninjured, I stood up beside my faithful mount, also with no injuries, who hadn’t abandoned me for greener pastures, or a better rider anyway. Together we walked home. The experience had bonded us together with a deeper mutual trust and better understanding. She remained a willing vessel for executing my decisions, and Iearned it was up to me to make damn good ones. I haven’t forgotten this lesson.

Before I outgrew her, I could have ridden my pony without her bridle. We knew each other so well.

As secure as my heart can be with animals, so it is the opposite with people. Hurting each other comes much easier for us, and trust, once lost, is hard to recover. In shutting down regarding human interactions after perceived betrayal, I have found refuge in the presence of animals. I maintain a safe distance and to the animals, I channel my energy.

Horses have fostered an empathy that has served me in becoming a better human. Thanks to horses, I grew up learning to be unselfish. Though people can hurt me, it is through the support of animals that I can find forgiveness. I am blessed to have passed the lessons on to my kids, who learned much as I have; hands-on.

Having committed ourselves to a life with horses, it was their welfare that took priority when considering how we spent our time. Never facing boredom, my girls had no spare time to get into trouble. There was no getting hooked on drugs or any risk of poor grades in school. Horses turned out to be an inspiring tool when deployed as leverage. It was a safe way to grow up, and though it took a financial toll, having horses was cheaper than rehab or mental therapy.

Riding a horse is liberating. The rush of wind, the floating feeling. Horses make us believe there can be a balance of fairness in the world, at least in the moment. The rhythmic gait of a horse beneath you resets your mind and reestablishes your connection to your inner systems.

Changing its beat, your heart syncs with the heart of the horse, and you experience a release of burdensome emotions. It is not just your physical weight the horse carries, but your weary soul.

The only thing missing are the wings.

Moving with the horse and being one creature with two hearts is a magical coalesces of spirits, but not essential to experience the benefits. Just being around horses is enough to relieve the heaviness we hold in our hearts from life’s painful past.

I took it in stride and took horses for granted when I had them. Because of physical trauma, a work-related back injury, emotional upheaval, and other circumstances, including moving from northern California to the Arizona Sonoran desert, I had to say farewell to the last horse in my life a few years ago.

With a lifetime of memories attached to the horses I have known, equine energy evokes them all, the good ones and the sad. Through the energy of horses, humans can process our grief associated with memories. In the absence of a dependable source of equine presence in my life, I fear I am losing the connection to my memories.

Acknowledging these sentiments has brought out in me the need to pursue horses again. Opening up to the possibilities, I am looking for what will come as I give this notion to God.

Will I get a horse? I have multiple neighbors who have horses. Will I ride again? Or, knowing there are horses out there who might need me, will I find a rescue ranch and be around horses while donating my time helping? I look to God for guidance. I also ask for wisdom to know if I am even proposing the right questions. For the grace of God, I pray.

Through life’s trials and tribulations, I am blessed with more good things than bad. I am safe and healthy, and my basic needs are more than fulfilled. Keeping this in mind, I feel embarrassed for asking, but God, I need horses.

I want to get back to memory-making with horses. I need to laugh and cry again with horses. And I need to heal. The wounds inflicted by the evil in this world are weighing me down. An injection of equine magic won’t solve any problems, but it will help carry the load.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest in your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” (Matthew 11:28-30 NIV)