Today, March 19, marks less than one month from the time we leave the hills of Pennsylvania, retire from my career as an Agricultural Engineer and start my new life as a Equine Gestalt Coach at a new farm in Florida.
Mixed emotions, yes I have many. At times I find I am almost afraid to sit with the horses, go the barn, which is my favorite place on the whole earth or go upstairs to my office, where I have spent countless hours planning, writing, watching the snow fall, new bright lime green leaves unfurl from the maple branches only to later turn bright red in the fall and then travel to the ground when winter winds once again called. I have sat many a day looking out the window, onto the pastures, dogwood trees and purple hills at dusk.
This evening, as I called the horses, they came galloping up the hill, past the woods and then walked with me to the blue gate. My two legs with the other 16, walked carefully in the shallow, slick mud at the top of the hill. I smelled the bitter smell of onions, while walking in close contact with them, it wafted and lingered in the air. This was proof, more than anything else, that spring was on its way, no matter how tight old man winter clung to the notion of never leaving.
After feeding and getting the horses settled down, I apologized to them, for not being available, the past few days. I stood outside of Vianca’s stall, hoping for her to mend my aching heart and remove the slow fear that was starting to take hold of me. After she looked my way and stepped back, I went into her stall and stood next to her. Her hair was rough and as I scrapped away the winter’s cap, a new thin layer was exposed, again reminding me spring was on the way. After, I finished, I again stood by her. She turned her head towards me and looked squarely into my eyes. She did not place her nose on my chest, which I was certain would mend my heart, instead she lifted her head and blew into my hair. My forehead wrinkled from the tickling feeling, and I laughed. Realizing it was the first laugh in a few days, that had escaped from my mouth.
I then went to V, brushed her and as I left she too touched my face with her whiskers, very unlike her normally cool composure. Lastly, I walked into Traces stall, she was taught, not relaxed. Immediately I understood she felt my anxiety, and so so I took a deep breath and asked her if she could just help me feel found, not lost, help me be sure instead of being fearful. I wrapped my arms around her and wept.So many changes, so many unknowns, so many uncertainties, so many things to leave behind. She stood there and then touched my face with her mouth, nibbled on my hair and I felt warmth as she breathed onto my head. There was no malice or mischief in her touch. Her chin came to rest on my head and she licked and chewed her mouth. I now understand she did this for me, she was releasing the pent up energy in me, which was blocking my vision and belief in my dream. My shoulders squared, and I thanked her. I felt a new lightness and was reminded I would always have the beautiful memories of this Cross Winds home and hills, and also that my new future was full of promising equal magic and hope.
I walked out of the barn, humming a quiet, grateful tune, turned to the beckoning sky and said a quiet goodbye, thanking my equine friends for their wisdom and this lovely land and streams for the profound way it has showed me the natural rhythm of life, the harsh and gentle, abundance and scarcity, promise and disappointment, all the while thriving, learning the secrets of life and the power of the full spiritual circle.
The wind turbine at the top of hill whined, as a breeze blew past, carrying my dreams and passions to my new home, awaiting our arrival.