the wild ones

Best Friends Animal Sanctuary sends me a bi-monthly magazine, since Helene sponsored a horse for me and I was moved to do some sponsoring myself. It is beautifully produced -- filled with inspirational stories and many wonderful photographs.

In it I discovered an article about an exhibit documenting wild horses in Idaho by photographer Elissa Kline. Her website has a link to the Best Friends article (under the News section) along with the full range of her amazing images. The exhibit “Herd But Not Seen” consists of nearly life-sized images of wild horses which float on translucent cotton panels throughout the space. She is hoping to show this awareness-raising exhibit in all 10 states with wild-horse populations, as well as somewhere near Washington, DC “where people who make the laws are.”

My own awareness of wild horses was re-kindled recently by a friend who mentioned that he walked by an exhibit in Soho he thought I would enjoy: The Wild Horses of Sable Island. The Green Horse Society website chronicles these individual horses and the life of the herd on the the tiny sand bar of Sable Island, 160 miles off the coast of Nova Scotia.

Abaco Island in the Bahamas also has a wild horse population.

Informational links from the Best Friends article:

Return to Freedom American Wild Horse Sanctuary

American Wild Horse Preservation Campaign

Wild Horse Sanctuary

Let ‘Em Run Foundation, Inc.

soft eyes, big picture

Judith Cross-Strehlke made a deep impression on me during her Centered Riding clinic a few weeks ago at Woodbine Equestrian in Southern New Jersey. Her self-contained manner, powerfully quiet presence, and generous way of tuning into each and every one of us was very inspiring.

Judy also offered me a comment in private which caused me to take a deep breath, step back so to speak, and begin to open my perspective on this process of learning to ride. She suggested that I use more “soft eyes” in relation to my whole approach to learning. Suddenly I was acutely aware of how my enthusiasm, focus and determination had subtly evolved into over-thinking, overly critical over-analysis and a kind of grasping or over-reaching.

With a sigh of relief, I decided to relinquish my hard focus and give myself the luxury of non-doing, just being with the whole idea of horses and riding for a while. No list of books to read, no blog to write. I let go and stepped back, catching myself over and over in the habitual response of asking myself “what should I be doing now?” It took the form of “I’m sure there is a book to read, a thought to get down on paper, a video to order, a clinic or course to sign up for, an image to invoke…” Each time a thought of this type surfaced, I was reminded to breathe, and out would come an audible sigh. Then I would remember to ask myself, “ wait a minute, what is the bigger picture?” 

A week of this “let’s open up to the big picture” approach turned into two, with a couple of days which masqueraded as a mild flu -- of simply sitting on the sofa, reflecting. What is the hurry? What am I really trying to learn? During this retreat on the sofa I was drawn to the Magic Eye (stereogram) books loaned to me by a friend. I had “tried” to use them a number of years ago and was never able to allow my focus to soften enough to enter their 3-D world. A week or so before the clinic I had my first experience of allowing the depth of the images to be revealed to me. Now I couldn’t seem to get enough of the peaceful place where the process of softening my vision took me. One way to learn how to see the stereograms is to start with the image directly touching your nose and allow your eyes to keep the same diffuse focus as you slowly move the image farther away.

The tendency for most of us is to try harder to see something, which I notice goes along with a tension in the neck and jaw and a holding of breath. What a good metaphor for the new approach I was exploring. What a wonderful biofeedback tool for soft eyes. And as I discovered very quickly when teaching the Alexander Technique to the Centered Riding instructors last autumn, most of them immediately released tension in their head/neck relationship at the mere mention of using soft eyes.

If you would like to learn more and try it for yourself, visit: The Magic Eye image of the week. In addition to reminding me to soften my approach and expand my vision of riding, Judy also shared much detailed information and instruction during the clinic. We are already making plans to see her again soon and other ideas from her teaching will be making their way into my reflections here.

Judy rode several horses during the clinic; above she is shown with Chloe, a sweet and beautiful Andalusian mare. Watching her make an immediate connection to Chloe and proceed to ride with seeming effortlessness reminded me of a phrase we use when describing several of our aikido master instructors: “no moving parts.” It really just means that they are so integrated, functioning with such harmony, that we cannot see how they do what they are doing!

enchantment

Spring is in the air in New York today. Junior and Charlotte, the pair of Red-tailed hawks who live across the street from my office window, were just observed soaring high above, slowly circling in a synchronized dance, gradually spiraling down to land in their nesting area high up the building at 888 Seventh Avenue. Usually I don’t see them until mid-afternoon. Although I am becoming more used to their presence, each episode still inspires awe – they enchant me with their regal bearing and their ability to glide effortlessly, often seeming to almost stop their motion – that is when they cast their spell and time stands still.

This past weekend we fell under a different spell. I met my very first stallion, an Andalusian aptly named “Brujo.” His name is translated variously as wizard, magician, sorcerer – he is a fairy tale horse like no other I have personally encountered. His owner, and the owner of the beautiful facility where the Centered Riding clinic was held, is Sue Holtz of Woodbine Equestrian Center. She kindly let us tag along with her and introduced us to Brujo, who was holding court out in his spacious paddock field. She patiently explained some of the aspects of stallion behavior as we gaped at him -- incredulous, smitten. While she emphasized that the “biting” movements of his mouth and lips are typical of stallions, part of their need for stimulation and contact and do not necessarily indicate ill will, she also made sure that we understood that Brujo does bite and that she must not allow him to even catch hold of a piece of her jacket – the next time he could bite her arm and crush the bones.

Helene and I were sufficiently impressed with the above information and kept our distance. We observed him from afar as he pranced back and forth, keeping an eye on his empire and all activity taking place within it. Sue told us that Brujo, as the stallion on the farm, feels a great responsibility – he feels in charge of all the other horses – geldings and mares and ponies alike, and with each visitor to the property he re-asserted his dominance with another flashy pass across the field, head tossing, glorious mane flowing, his complete awareness very apparent.

Later in the afternoon when Helene received permission to feed him an apple, I asked Annelie to come along, partially to keep an eye on us. Brujo was a perfect gentleman, taking the slices from our flat palms, even allowing us to pet him and fawn over him briefly – until the apple was gone, that is. Then he was off, back to the serious business of keeping track of all and everything.

When the clinic was officially over, we lingered, chatting with new friends, Helene spoiling horses, dogs and chickens with treats and affection. I followed Sue out to the paddock and watched as she put a halter on Brujo and, dressage crop at the ready, led him purposefully to his stall in the barn. I also watched, fascinated, as she groomed and tacked him up – noticing her focus and vigilance throughout the process. We were then rewarded with the thrill of seeing her ride him in the outdoor ring. Here was masterful riding we could only dream of, the power and beauty of their movement heart-stopping, the intensity of their relationship mesmerizing. Magic was in the air as we left, reluctantly heading back to the City – the enchanted ones left behind barely noticed our departure.

Above are some photos documenting our ensorcellment.***

***en·sor·cell ( n-sôr s l); en·sor cell·ment n.: To enchant; bewitch.
[French ensorceler, from Old French ensorcerer, ensorceler : en-, intensive pref.; see en-+ sorcier, sorcerer.]