Relative Something

I spent most of my life in the carefree world of not needing to take care of a pet. Yesterday afternoon, as I fed four horses, then our dog, and finally, two cats, it occurred to me how much things have changed. Luckily, it seems to fit rather seamlessly into the days here, especially compared to my old life during the years we lived in our previous home. I didn’t want that kind of commitment back then, but it is proving to be a natural extension of our new routine.

The part that doesn’t fit anymore is my sitting in front of a television watching sporting events, or any program, for that matter. Lately, it has also meant not playing my guitar or mandolin, or doing much in the way of bicycling, but I hope to reclaim some of that time in the days to come. Our days are now filled with managing operations on our 20 acre ranch of fields and woods.

I miss being able to play soccer in the mornings with my friends, but I am reaping the rewards of all those years of that brilliant exercise, transferring the stamina, strength, and breathing capacity I acquired into the physical work done around our property.

The new routine appears to be burning more calories than I am consuming, so I am actually in better shape now than I have been in years. I’m hoping I will notice the difference when biking, in that I won’t be hauling as much weight up the hills.

Last night, as I moved the horses into the paddock from the open field, I had an opportunity to put into practice something that I learned from Cyndie and our friend, Dunia, at the Epona seminar they led in Arizona. The horses were loitering just outside the open gate as I arrived to encourage them to come in. Legacy, the leader, acknowledged my arrival, but made no motion to enter. If he doesn’t come in, the others won’t either.

I knew I was talking to the right guy, but he wasn’t buying what I was selling. Conventional wisdom would be to use a treat or bucket of grain to entice him to approach, but I learned another method to inspire a horse to follow me. I walked an arc in front of Legacy, back and forth, increasing my energy as I went. If you walk far enough around the horse, they will be inclined to move a hoof in a step to keep you in view. That step is the one I was looking for, because if you play that first step properly, it will lead to another, and then off I went, walking into the paddock up to the grain I had set out for them, and Legacy followed me all the way up.

On Sunday, I put into practice another essential lesson I learned at the Epona seminar in Arizona. When you approach a horse, the horse gets to set the boundary. When the horse approaches you, you get to set the boundary. When I unexpectedly found myself facing four horses running right toward me in the open field, standing with nothing but my camera in my hands, I remembered what Dunia, Cyndie, and the other leaders taught about setting my boundary.

I motioned with my hand to display an arc of my boundary in front of my body. Legacy, leading the group charge, suddenly came to a halt, just short of that virtual line I was projecting.

The person standing on that hill with those four powerful animals was not the guy I remember from a year ago. That is the new me, tending our property and caring for all our animals. It is feeling like a pretty good fit.