Holding the Space Part 1

Delaya Diane, founder and administrator of True North Equestrians – Soul Inspired Equestrians, and member of Horse – Human – Spirit, is creating an Oracle Deck using real horses to illustrate her words of spiritual inspiration. My horse, Sparkle Plenty, is the image for “Holding the Space.” I have spent the past week contemplating and meditating upon this concept in relation to my horse. What does “Holding the Space” mean and how does Sparkle illustrate the image?

I was there when Sparkle Plenty entered this world and almost thirty years later I was there when her life spirit left this world. She was my equine soul sister. Through her I improved my horsemanship skills. She and I shared those skills with young, blossoming horse lovers. She allowed horse people and non-horse people to stand in and feel the peace of her presence. She and I travelled trails in the Sierra Nevada’s and the California Lost Coast together with friends. I have loved and cared for many horses in my life-time. She was, is still, special.

Holding The Space

Sparkle Plenty is Holding the Space of

The Eternal Now,

The Presence of Earth and Heaven,

LOVE, lots of vital energy,

HORSE – Past, Present and future Potential,

Communion,

Honesty,

Trust,

Heart Connection,

Illuminating the Internal Luminous Darkness,

Sparkle Penty is Holding the Space.

Thank you

May be an image of 2 people, people standing, horse, nature and tree

Handsome is as Handsome Does

. In emotional overwhelm I dismounted, wrapped my arms around Handsome’s golden neck, and wept tears of gratitude into his blond mane. I felt Dianne join our embrace, the three of us holding one another in heart celebration.

Hoofbeats pulse earth’s heartbeat

Rhythm of life in matter, incarnation,

Particles, strings, waves of potential

Flooding the energetic body

Thrumming through flexing feet,

Calves, thighs, and hips,

Root chakra humming,

Sacral chakra strumming,

Hara spinning, caressed and massaged   

By the Horse Heart I embrace.

Handsome is as Handsome Does

I am 76 years old and a passionate, lifetime horsewoman. In the past 8 years, I have been unable to get on a horse unassisted. The last two years I reconciled myself to the idea I would never ride again. Severe osteoarthritis was eating at my joints. After two complete shoulder replacements, a right hip replacement, a degenerative nerve to a muscle in my right hip (which cost me the ability to lift that leg and swing it over the back of a horse), and severe sciatica in my left leg leading to a looming option of back surgery, I decided to try physical therapy one more time. I was assigned a therapist who listened to me: a 75 year old woman bent over a cane, not able to step up and down from a street curb without help. Exercise by exercise, Logan began to bring my body back. In the beginning, it was exhausting, physically, emotionally, and energetically trying to negotiate pain limits, general weakness, muscles that just would no longer respond. Fear of pain got in my way. My belief that arthritis, gravity, and designed obsolescence was the natural way told me I was aging out. Logan never asked too much while continuing to encourage me to do the exercises, a little at a time, and gradually increasing the time and intensity of the workout. Yes, I know, common sense, but not all Physical Therapists are created equal. Some have a work out regimen, and that is what is followed, an irrefutable dogma. Finally, with Logan’s guidance, my body began to strengthen. I was able to put aside the cane; still careful at curbs, my dog and I could walk a flat mile. My Medicare-allotted time with Logan was running out. I reached inside for one more goal: to mount a horse unassisted. Without hesitation, he directed my exercise to mounting from the off-side, the right side of the horse. Faith in his knowledge allowed me to begin to believe that this goal would be attained. However, we ran out of time before the goal was realized. I continued the exercises, slowly reaching the pinnacle of standing in firm foundation on my right leg and swinging my left leg over the back of a chair. 

The second ingredient of realizing my goal was the horse. After my last horse, Sparkle, died, I sold, gave away, or tossed all the accouterments of horse ownership, including my mindset. Now I needed a safe partner to mount myself on: a safe horse, a safe human, and a safe environment. If she agreed, I knew just the horse/human combination: my long-time friend Dianne and her honest Haflinger gelding, Handsome. I reached out, and she responded with a resounding “Yes.” The day we chose for the “big event” was one of those perfect, midwinter, spring-like days we sometimes glory in the Sierra Nevada foothills. We met at Laughton Ranch in Jackson where Handsome is boarded. From the barn, we passed through a leaning pasture gate, negotiated a goose-grazed green pasture, passing a pond and horses standing in the sun. We went through another gate and walked a dirt road towards the out barns, round pens, and sand arena, all well-used. Handsome lived here in a big paddock. He was nibbling his grass hay when we arrived. He nickered to us, knowing the routine. Dianne collected the saddle, bridle, and brushes; then, together, we collected Handsome. We curried and brushed him at the hitch rail. Dianne saddled him and warmed him up in the round pen and then took him through his paces in the arena. There was no mounting block in the arena. My goal for unassisted mounting was not from the ground but from the solid base of a mounting block. It was back near the hitchrail. We walked back. Dianne aligned Handsome to the black steps and asked if I was ready.

This was the moment. I knew I was ready, and yet I trembled. Not my horse, not my saddle, not the left side. Remembering to breathe, I looked down on that neck, knowing it was his round barrel that I would swing my leg over and settle onto, not this short neck reaching out in front of me. Dianne counterbalanced the saddle, steadying the already steady Handsome. I put my right foot in the stirrup. I may have collected some mane, I remember reaching for it, and swung my left leg up and over. I felt the skim of the cantle on my calf, and then I was on. I was on. I was mounted on the living back of a horse. Somehow, I heard Dianne ask what I wanted to do. I wanted to feel the horse walking under me. I wanted to feel that earthly energetic connection. All I wanted was exactly what I was doing. And she let me do it, she facilitated the experience. I am so grateful. 

We didn’t over do. After riding, I dismounted, then mounted, rode, and dismounted again. I felt the rhythm of Handsome’s movement flow between my legs. That was all I needed. In emotional overwhelm I dismounted, wrapped my arms around Handsome’s golden neck, and wept tears of gratitude into his blond mane. I felt Dianne join our embrace, the three of us holding one another in heart celebration.

My friend Dianne, editor, writer, artist, energy worker, horsewoman.

Thank you!

She Did Not Go Quiety Into the Night

Sparkle Plenty RIP September 19, 1992 – January 30, 2022

Although her feet and legs no longer supported her in strength and comfort and fluidity, her heart and mind still carried power and spirit. It had become so necessary for her to maintain her stance that even in the midst of massive doses of life ending anesthetic she tried to regain her feet. She did not go quietly, her lungs kept pumping oxygen, her eyes kept fluttering. My hand on her muzzle, I hoped to soothe her and soothe myself.

In 1992, on September 19th I embraced a new foal, a new life in my arms. January 30, 2022, I wrapped my arms around the neck of this aging gray mare, her life sparkling just as brightly as it had all those years before. Tears drip down my face as I write these words. I’m writing to share this experience because horse people, at some point in our lives, face an impossible choice that has to be made.

What is the criteria for quality of life? When does the balance from a good life to a precarious one change? For Sparkle and me, balance tipped when the pain in her hooves could not keep her upright, and she would fall. The last fall caused a knee injury that made life even more difficult for her. Her pain was my pain. And I could no longer look her in the eye knowing that it didn’t have to be that way. There was an ending to it, but that ending was so final. , an end of ife options, life choices, life dreams. (Now I am sobbing.)

September 1992

2 weeks out

Two weeks without the physical presence of Sparkle Plenty. I now know that deep ache, deep in my soul, deep into the root of my being. I have sympathized with others, shared their loss with just a slight turn of heart to not be pierced too deeply by their sorrow. Now I know. There is no turning away. It is right here inside my heart, inside my throat, inside my head. There is a Facebook page, a group: Over The Hill Horsewomen. So many Illustrated stories of loss of the special horse in these women’s lives. I am now one of them, not separate in any way. I am now an initiate into the full cyclical connection of the horse-human relationship. Before I was one of them, sharing the space with them as a horsewoman; now I am them, I am the space.

2019

3 weeks out

Grieving Sparkle Plenty

What did The Lone Ranger do when he lost Silver?

When he had to put a bullet in the head of his partner?

When Silver stepped into a gopher hole,

racing a mad crazy gallop

the way they do in the western movies,

and broke his leg, SNAP,

sending the Lone Ranger somersaulting through the sage?

What did Gene Autry do when Champion

suffocated from a rattlesnake bite

on his muzzle, unable to breathe

through his mouth,

His great lungs and heart shut down

His vibrating nostrils swollen

Clamping his Vital Air passage closed?

What did Roy Rogers do when Trigger’s

great heart gave out mid-stride

in the never-ending pursuit of Justice

in an unjust world?

What am I to do with my grief?

What am I to do?

What am I to do?

2020

4 weeks out

She stands alert in her green grass pasture, attention drawn to the world of sounds, scents, and movement around her. Brush in hand, I see the long white hairs of her winter coat lifted to the warmth of the sun. I smooth the hair with the brush, trying to reach her skin where the gentle bristles relieve itching, laying the hair down smoothly in the direction it wants to be.

I am finally aware of all the prayers, the energies for the Highest Good, the heart healing that is swirling around us, sent from all those who love us. I am reminded again and again that in reality we are all One. I am so grateful for those who hold the vital space of life and love. Sparkle’s essence resides in my heart, my core, my soul, in the very cells of my body.

I go out to her grave in the pasture where she spent half her life. I cast wildflower seeds over the mound under which her body is returning to the very earth whose spirit she so gallantly and consistently carried. As time goes on, I know I will still grieve, but I will find the blessings of our time together sprout in unexpected places just like the wildflowers that will come up with spring rains.

It so took me by surprise that you aged faster than me. I always thought of us as in the same paradigm, graying together, stiffening in our joints together, retiring together. You beat me to the moment of returning home to The Source. I know you are in good company there. Mother told me she would take care of you, help you transition, settle until you found your freedom. You blessed my life beyond words. We are not done.

Scattering wildflower seeds March 4, 2022

Church of The Round Pen

IMG_132099018582259

Let me retouch the joy I feel working and playing with the beautiful lady, Chloe, as we become acquainted in a Bear Valley Springs Round Pen. The joy of balancing energy between horse and human. I am visiting my brother, just outside of Tehachapi, CA. He has two very nice horses; Silver, a gentle giant, half shire-half quarter horse gelding, a delightful silver grey. And he has Chloe, feminine, lovely, elegant, half Friesian, half paint – a beautiful balance of black and white. I am smitten with her.
Chloe and I don’t know each other. I have been told she has a certain level of training. I find when I ask her to move up to that level she is confused, not sure as to how to respond and becomes agitated, throwing more and more energy into escaping my request. I lift my energy, changing my body posture to more assertive as she escalates. I know that somewhere she knows the correct response and I wait for her to find it, not letting up on my response to the energy she is throwing out. And suddenly she finds it, bending her ear and eye to me, her head and tail lower, she begins to respond rather than react and I yield the pressure of my energy and she begins to lick her lips. Joyful communication. We have found a momentary balance, a balance to build upon.
We see the round pen as a place of schooling for the horse but in reality, hidden in plain sight, is the dance of relationship, the coming together of energies, enfolding one in the other, creating a communication of mind, body and spirit. Horse spirit is our captivator. We are enthralled with the primordial, free expression of horse in body and action. We want to capture that spirit and make it our own. Of course we can’t capture it, we can only interface with it. Come to that common denominator that enlivens each of us.
Like any church, the round pen can be misinterpreted to be all about dogma and rules. Rules are guide posts to a deeper entanglement of promise and potential. When we bind ourselves to rules we bind ourselves to the structure of ego. Ego structure is important but it is only a portal, or an impassable boundary, to the greater dimension of energetic relationship.
This is deep stuff and I don’t mean to scare anybody away. We, of The Tribe of Horse, all seek that mystic relationship with our horse. The relationship where we become one in mind, body and spirit.

TRANSFORMATION. “A personality change aligning to a pattern appropriate to spiritual life which so sensitizes the recipient that incoming spiritual forces have significantly increased impact.”

Today we made thunder – You made thunder.
I am the witness making the space available.
You are my horse, the primal voice of my passion.

Lightning lanced, you arc and lash and flare.
A tornado tossed tumble weed your buckskin body
Bounds, lifts, floats, and dances in the round
to the strident concussion of your own music.
I stand in the eye of your storm
Reveling in the power of your expression
tasting the turbulent wind funneled through your nostrils
vibrating to the pounding rhythm your
hooves drum on the skin of sod and soil.

And then the storm is spent.
Your canter is cradle rocking soft
A Soul soothing cadence quiet as an April shower
I lift my hand and step back, a beckoning bow
Inviting you to share the center with me.
You come, ears up, muzzle reaching into my cupped hands
You blow a gentle Zephyr, the west wind’s promised warmth.
The scent of exuberant exertion lifts off your body, damp and dense.
You are Life coming to me willingly,                                                                                           You share your heart space.

“…great sensuous song of life…”

I’m reading “The Feminine Face of God: The Unfolding of the Sacred in Women” by Sherry Ruth Anderson, Patricia Hopkins and wanted to share this quote with you.

“When I was a girl I would roam through the pastures with my horse, Spotty, and there would be a communion, a great sensuous song of life being sung through us that I have no words for.”  Anonymous

These words are so very validating to read; the experience  similar to my own.  It is only as I grow in years and wisdom that I truly acknowledge the communion with nature, with life, that riding my horse has granted me.  A blessing of spirit, “a great sensuous song of life….”  Several years ago I attempted to put this wondrous song into a poem.  The poem won a first place in a contest held by the East Bay Equestrian Network.

Meadow Music – A Rider’s Song

Meadow music notes of spring

Flow the contour of the hills

Swirl the ponderosa canyons

To the rhythm of gentle hoof beats walking

To the meadow music notes of spring.

Yellow flowers rising, reaching sunburst beauty

To the gentle hoof beats passing through their midst

Walking gentle hoof beats,

One-two, one-two, one-two-three-four.

Meadow grass seeds on their slender stalks

Bow and bob in unison to the rhythm of

The meadow music notes of spring

To the gentle rhythmic hoof beats

Of the mare walking in the horse dimension

Meadow music notes of summer

Simmer warmly through the valley

Wrap round trails traced on hillsides

To the rhythm of muffled hoof beats walking

To the meadow music notes of summer.

Powder puffs of cedar scented dust rise in rhythm

To the muffled hoof beats passing on the path.

Walking muffled hoof beats,

One-two, one-two, one-two-three-four.

Toasted gold by summer solstice

The meadow grass sways in sleepy melody to

The meadow music notes of summer

To the muffled rhythmic hoof beats

Of the mare walking in the horse dimension.

Meadow music notes of autumn

Serenade the oaks and alder,

Decked in glowing passion colors,

To the rhythm of happy hoof beats walking

To the meadow music notes of autumn.

Leaves red and gold shake and shimmy

To happy hoof beats walking in their glory.

Happy walking hoof beats,

One-two, one-two, one-two-three-four.

Parading the yellow leafed road,

Petals of sunlight flutter and fall to

The meadow music notes of autumn

To the gentle rhythmic hoof beats

Of the mare walking in the horse dimension.

Meadow music notes of winter

Sing the blackbirds in the choir loft

Of the ancient oak tree’s branches

To the rhythm of crisp hoof beats walking

To the meadow music notes of winter.

Five hundred voices trilling, singing gospel in god’s house

To crisp hoof beats passing ‘neath their perch.

Crisp walking hoof beats,

One-two, one-two, one-two-three-four.

In the waning light of winter, reflected in the shivering pond,

Barren branches nod to the rhythm of

The meadow music notes of winter

To the crisp rhythmic hoof beats

Of the mare walking in the horse dimension

Lynnea Honn

 

Heart of a Horsewoman

The search for the depth of the horse/human relationship through pondering, poetry and study of the multifaceted interactions that bring such wonderful satisfaction to the mind, body and soul. I explore practical and spiritual aspects of this amazing interspecies entanglement.

First blog from Heart of a Horsewoman – an idea that has been percolating for the past 10 years.  Who am I?  A passionate horse lover of 66 years.  I credit year four as the year I was inducted into the Tribe of Horse by a gentle Palm Springs gelding who took the time and interest to introduce himself and the world of horses to me.  What do blogs from the Heart of a Horsewoman look like?  The search for the depth of the horse/human relationship through pondering, poetry and study of the multifaceted interactions that bring such wonderful satisfaction to the mind, body and soul.  I explore practical and spiritual aspects of this amazing interspecies entanglement. It is my point of view that Horse is a bridge between matter and spirit if we are open to that journey.

The picture above is of Megan, a third generation mare raised by me, and Macho, the ranch dog.  This was taken about four years ago.  I love this image of Meg’s connection.  She is one who truly lives in the world of Humans and is eager to participate in the Horse/Human relationship.

This first post is “The Nature of Horse”, something I wrote about about two years ago. It is a good introduction to the point of view of this blog.

The Nature of Horse  Nov 2014

The nature of Horse is Spirit.  Horse is first the embodiment of spirit in earth energy.  Spirit is illuminated in horse by every symmetrical, rhythmic movement…, the side to side swish of tail, the sound of chewing pasture grass, the flash of hooves as they kiss the ground.

The nature of Horse is Heart.  The magnetic principal of heart, the synchronization and pull that draws us to Horse mystery.  That silent beat that creates a primordial pounding in the Human pulse.  Horse heart expands the human heart, frees it to blend with another.

The nature of Horse is relationship.  In relationship to each other and to the ecosystem of existence Horse has lived thousands of years in successful interaction with all the nations of environment; animal, mineral and vegetable.  Horse brings Human into relationship with the kingdoms of nature.

The nature of Horse is sensual.  Horse lives the embodiment of senses, sight, sound, smell, touch, taste, far beyond the human sense realm.  Horse offers Human an experience of expanded awareness.