[originally posted summer 2021]
I have the great fortune to be connected with a beautiful herd of horses who have been facilitating my own transformation back into a life of working alongside these four-leggeds ... and they gave me quite a teaching this past weekend.
I arrived to The Farm with big plans:
I had clarity: I want to experience the mystical!
I knew just how it was going to happen: I would sit with the horses in the paddock, go into a deep meditative state, and be ushered into my spiritual experience by the herd standing (or laying) by my side.
I also had no doubt that this was possible; these horses had already helped me to reconnect with my creativity, my sense of grounded expansion, and I had, without trying, previously undergone some pretty mystical experiences while just sitting next to them in this very same paddock.
In the past, I had entered their space without an agenda, surprised to see that they were both napping in the sand, totally unfazed by my presence. This is a sign of deep trust, when horses stay laying down, in a vulnerable position, even when approached.
It means they feel safe:
I had played with some yoga movements, and even got the chance to snuggle down with Rango for a brief pasture-nap.
So it made sense in my mind that this time, if I had the strong intention of meditating and having an elevated experience, it would most certainly happen.
I took a folding camp chair into the paddock and set it under a tree. No sooner had I sat down than Mystic nuzzled my hat straight off my head into the sand.
I picked it up, brushed it off, and as I put it on my head, Rango came over, practically standing on top of me and bit the top of my hat, shaking it gently in his mouth. I waved him away, and said internally, Come on you two, it’s time to meditate! Like we did last time; I'm ready so let’s do this!
Mystic bit my boot and pulled. Rango stepped through the legs of the folding chair, and I leapt up to rescue his foot from the imminent disaster.
The chair is NOT going to work! I thought, and I exchanged it for the solid mounting block that lived in the paddock. Surely they wouldn't bother with this big plastic inert thing that they saw night and day.
I sat on the top step, inhaled deep into my belly, and let out a full exhale, trying to exude a sense of calm into the space around me where these two rambunctious youngsters were nibbling at my hat and nuzzling my jeans. Then, Rango lifted his hoof three feet off the ground and placed it smack on top of the second step of the mounting block, raising himself up to tower over me. And, for about the hundredth time, he stole my hat.
This was certainly not conducive to my mystical meditative experience.
I put away the mounting block, scooped up my camp chair and squeezed through the fence to set it up again, this time just out of reach.
This is so weird, I thought, they are usually so chill and happy to relax with me. I chocked it up to the cooler weather and got back to business.
At first the two hung around trying to reach through the fence for my boots, my jeans, and to munch on the grass.
I closed my eyes and redoubled my meditation efforts. The horses soon walked away, across the pasture, and grazed from their hay troughs, their swishing tails facing me. I felt ignored.
I did my practice, and it was flat and disappointing (if we are going to judge a meditation, which is not typically recommended). I felt kind of cranky as I folded up my chair but had to laugh recalling Rango sticking his entire leg through it earlier. My hat now has a permanent nose-smudge, front and center.
Back home later that day, I opened an email with a passage from a spiritual teacher I have been following. It said,
“Let’s not get too serious today even if the mood lends itself to it. Open up to the greater meaning and substance behind the mundane and appreciate the good things in life.”
And then … it clicked. The horses did give me a big teaching that day, and in the middle of it, I was so myopic and serious about my mystical meditation endeavors that I nearly missed it!
It was a beautiful reminder to lighten up and enjoy the journey, to stay open so I don’t miss the messages all around me, and that often the greatest magic happens when we arrive without an agenda, open, and ready to receive.
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