MY FATHER

My father lies on white satin
body stiff and silent
eyes eternally closed
lips forever rouged.

Before that...
    his body became more transparent
    with every passing week.
    His words often rambling
    making sense only to him
    only adding to his confusion.

Before that...
 His eyes, sparkling with mischief,
 threatening to trip when he walked me down the aisle.
 And I, not  totally sure that he would not
 had one more thing to wonder about that day.

And before that...
 He stood at his work bench
 creating a pair of wooden stilts for
 his children to play with ~ happy to hoist our bodies
 to travel high above the ground.

And before that...
  His fathers only son,
 body tall and thin,
 a horse trainer in his own right
 riding the Missouri hills on a handsome black pony
 Ever dreaming of his future
 ... possibly even, of me.

<<< This piece is dedicated to my dear brother-in-law whose own father recently made his transition to the next journey. >>>>

SKILLS !!

My world is totally f***ing bi-polar right now.                                                                                       I am hanging on to the bell at the bottom of my pendulum, swinging wildly from one extreme to another, back and forth, back and forth, never still, never totally comfortable.

Sometimes I can throw my head back and enjoy the air rushing through, messing up my hair, and laugh at the absurdity of it all,

Other times I cling tightly to the cold metal, eye lids pinched tightly, hanging on for dear (?) life.

The trick, I am reminded, is to seek inner balance. To "not be jolted by such impermanence."

 

 

I have tricks. Skills ??

"Step outdoors,”  I remind myself,

“seek the ragged edges of my mountain landscape, 

breathe deeply the sweet essence of a horse.”

Her sweet bulk soothes my nerves.  

Her steady heartbeat quiets mine.     

The kindness in her eye restores my faith.

 

Ragged might be beautiful.

 

PAISLEY

The paisley scarf is wrapped tight around her head; a beautiful mix of blues and purples, but it is the shape that fascinates me. It makes the back of her head look like a giant light bulb. I am still looking for a fleecy little cap with horses on it; that is exactly what she told me she wants and I intend to find one. Light weight and warm to protect her newly balding head.

Cancer leaves people looking like alien beings, recently arrived from some place out of this world. Well, it is not the cancer; I know that. It is the chemotherapy poison that they inject into her body every two weeks.

With one sentence her entire life changed, and through friendship, so did mine.  Cancer has made her wonder who she will be next week. Where will she be next year? It is my (our) job to remind her that she will still be the woman we love. We will gather and celebrate next year with renewed verve. She is scared that she has no choices. It is my job to remind her that every moment is a choice. She can keep those things which are dear to her ~ and examine and discard those that no longer serve her. The choice is always hers. And choices can be transmuted, rejected, or revised any time she chooses.

Fighting, Dancing, Having cancer has become a full time occupation.  Everything looks and feels different to her and to me. Getting ready, receiving instead of giving, planning a new way of eating, a new wardrobe to wear, a new time of day to visit the grocer when the crowds are gone, arranging drivers to and from appointments ... it feels endless.

Every “thing” is simultaneously precious and unimportant.  It is alien.

A new view of every day life ... a new …. anew  … Anew !!

A THOUSAND YEAR FLOOD.

It has now been 50 days since the rains began that changed the front range landscape of Boulder, Larimer, Jefferson and Weld counties of Colorado.  We survived the “flood of Biblical proportions.”  I have written about it many times, but produced nothing worthy of sharing but serving as a cathartic stress release.  For weeks I suffered from a low level anxiety; trouble sleeping, shortness of breath, and my stomach didn’t feel right.  In fact, I feel like I ate my way through the flood, snacking all day long as I huddled close to my radio listening to what was happening to my physical realm.

At one point I talked with my sister and she could totally relate to how I was feeling. Three years ago she was caught at home ~ alone with one dog, two cats, two horses, and a dozen chickens ~ during an ice storm that left her without electricity for 10 days.  She moved into survival mode, doing what she had to do to take care of everyone, securing water was difficult. She ended up getting sick from attempting to heat a portion of her home with a propane space heater. But everyone on her ten acres lived. The story had a satisfactory ending. For the rest of the winter she, and many of her friends in southern Missouri, had a panic attack every time a storm set up which could bring a layer of ice to their world.

We survive. Katrina, Sandy, massive tornadoes, rampaging forest fires, shifting, sliding, unable to stay the same ...

Slowly it passes.

Below is an excerpt from my friend, my astrologer, and my writing buddy, Jyoti Wind’s astrological newsletter. Her words moved me; she said it better than all of my ramblings and I asked her permission to share it with you here. 

Dear friends, The human and emotional toll of a natural disaster is deep and encompassing.It scars the landscape of one’s thinking so that one returns again and again to that abrasion.  A collective atmosphere of shock and stress grows into a thought form, an energetic, that permeates the area more than the mud and water, and takes a while to recede.  Relief aid, a listening ear, an offer to help are the balm that wipes clear the window onto the future. Possibilities then become visible.

We are in the process of shifting. It doesn’t have a clear demarcation line of when it started, but in the last one and a half years it has felt like there was an escalation. We have another one and a half years to go. And again, there won’t be a stopping line, and end. It may begin to feel that there is more of a flow instead of a push.

Meanwhile the push to change old patterns continues.  Looking at how you have changed over the past one and a half years might be an interesting undertaking. Blessings,Jyoti

For more information and to contact Jyoti Wind:
http://www.writes-of-passage.blogspot.com
http://www.aweeksworthofwomen.blogspot.com
www.jyotiwindastrology.com

3rd Annual Equine Gestalt Coaching Method Summit 2013

This event was held on September 20, 21, 22 in spite of the fact that Boulder County, including Lil Bit North Ranch - home of the Touched By a Horse program - had suffered through a flood of “Biblical proportions” just one week earlier.  Access roads into Boulder County were just beginning to open up, but every one managed to make it in and the event was a HUGE success.  Melisa Pearce and her staff did a superb job and the program ran smoothly and efficiently.

For me, introducing our new anthology, Touched Buy a Horse; Equine Coaching Stories, Edited by Melisa Pearce, was an incredible highlight. As assistant editor, I am fantastically proud of this book which includes stories and poetry by 21 different authors. The theme was to describe what equine gestalt coaching looks like, how it has affected us personally, and what our healing herds of horses are offering as our loyal partners in this venture. This book is going to make a BIG difference in helping people understand what we have to offer in the expanding genre of personal coaching! Trust me, you are going to want to read this book!

Our keynote speaker was Larry Freeborg, a pioneer in the development of equine-guided groups such as EGEA (Equine Guided Education Association) and EAHAE (European Association for Horse Assisted Education) and has followed the development of the Horse Assisted industry for the last decade. I was lucky enough to catch his talk every day; he is highly intelligent, thorough in his history of this fast growing business, and spoke on planning and business development topics for professional coaches that were important to everyone.

Other Speakers included: Kimberly Beer, professional photographer, graphic designer and Platinum Solution Provider for Constant Contact.  Melanie Mulhall, an award winning author, writing coach and served as primary editor on our new anthology. James Fitzpatrick III, CPA, had the dubious honor of speaking to us about financial planning first thing after lunch on Saturday. He rose to the occasion and gave a wonderful presentation. And on our final Sunday, Mark Guynn, of Guynn Training Center, gave a riding demonstration of Melisa’s three year old Gypsy Vanner horse, Rua Prionsa’s ("Pri") debut under saddle. It was a beautiful thing to watch!

 

 

 

You can stop Dancing NOW ~ the Rains have Come !!

I attempt to sit here at my computer and work, but I, like many residences of front range counties in Colorado, am in a state of heightened alert. This morning I fed all of my critters, trying to find a decent place to drop hay as my north pasture has turned into two lakes, Lake Louise and Lake Annette.

Still in my muck boots and raingear, I decided to gas up my pick-up truck. After making an emergency run to Black Forest one evening to pick a hopeful nurse mare for an orphaned foal,  my truck was still on empty. Not much use if I were to need it quickly. Plugging in the electric to my horse trailer I notice that I don’t have head lights on the truck.  Humm, when did that happen?  Is it because of the rain?

Back at home I walked the perimeter of my little house and check my roof drains.  We have had approximately 5 to 6 inches of rain in the last two days and I need this water to move as far away from my foundation as possible. They are calling for four to six more inches of rain in the next two days.  Everything is looking good. When I came inside and pulled off my boots  I popped down to the basement to make sure it was still dry (it is) and to hit the “Rain Delay” button for my lawn sprinkler system.  Certainly not going to need that for a while.

I sat in silence for a minute and said a prayer for all of us. I imagined sunny days and how wonderful the next cutting of grass hay was going to be. I “see” my barn full of sweet smelling hay = green gold.

I am supposed to have lunch in Boulder with my old study group and our teacher who is in town from Namaste Retreat Center in Wisconsin. At this point in the early morning, I doubt if that is going to happen but I decide to take a quick shower and be ready for whatever happens next.  My radio beeps again … the National Weather Service alert is saying to stay away from Boulder ~ schools and businesses are closed, roads are flooding, at least one bridge has washed away, and they are evacuating residential areas around Boulder Creek. Well, at least my hair looks nice!!

I just came in from feeding a lunch snack. I pulled out a couple of flakes of good grass hay and careful put it in metal tubs that I had dumped the rain water out of.  It is disheartening to watch my horses reach in and flick it out with their noses where it will land on the mud and poo muck ~ they will probably not eat it now.  Really? I work hard to secure good feed for you guys and this is how you treat it? They look at me innocently and I wish that I could bring them all into my house and we could read books, sip tea and eat crackers and cheese.

They say, “Don’t worry about it, we are fine. It is all gonna be okay. “

I let their confidence seep into my bones and I know they are right.

Hay in the barn

I accepted the work and preformed the assignment,
received my payment and deposited the check,
bought the hay and filled the barn,
all with a smile on my face, grateful for this lifestyle.
LIFE is GOOD !!