The day after...

For two days I drove through early morning mist to attend a horse clinic in New Jersey, given by Buck Brannaman. The drive to the barn was spectacular and worth the early morning wake-ups. Fields glistened with dew, and streams ran strong from recent rain as I wound around the back-country roads.

For those who are not familiar with Buck, he is the original Horse Whisperer. If you get a chance, see the documentary/film, Buck. I've seen it twice and strongly recommend it. You don't have to own a horse, or even be associated with one to appreciate the film. Buck's words go beyond the lessons of horses, and straight to the heart of life.

From my cabin window I look out at the animals in my woods, and realize how much I am committed to their well-being. There are days when I go from euphoria to despair, especially during hunting season. I do what I can to give these souls a place of safety. Buck does this same thing in the clinics. His horses are gentle and quiet, asking nothing in return but respect and he gives it to them. He teaches riders to prepare for the unthinkable, and I believe we can follow that same rule in our own lives.

Be gentle, but firm. Accept nothing less from animals than what you would expect for yourself. I loved the clinic and learned much more than how to handle a horse.

Safety and shelter are different sides of the same coin. In our hearts we all ask for this. Next time you see a Buck Brannaman clinic in your area, give it a go!

The Equinox..

As I look out on a gorgeous morning it comes to mind that the Equinox will occur later in the week. Hmmm, a time when day and night are approximately equal in length. "What does this mean for me?" I ask myself?

All life, including mine, is equal in the eyes of our Creator. We are each given what we need to carry during our years here on this planet. Perhaps I can make equal time for all that is important to me. A balance, so to speak, of life's gifts.

Every life has a story, and in every story there is a lesson. It is up to me to listen carefully, for my thoughts create my reality. During this time of Equinox I hope to work hard with whatever gifts I own, and then let them go. It is not up to me to direct, it is up to me to do everything I can within my own space here where I live.

And then I'll ask my God, what would you have me do for the greater good? For what is real, and what is lasting, is who you are.

Still and uncomplicated!

It is the beginning of September, and the country fairs are in full swing. People show the bounty from their summer gardens or quilts they've made over the past winter. I love this month and know it as a gentle one. Nothing is expected, no leaves to rake or large meal to prepare, and no holiday with gifts to wrap. Those joyous seasons come later.

September is a time when I feel still and uncomplicated. The days are warm and the nights and mornings are cool. The air is not as humid and the vegetation will become dormant soon. It is a time to allow myself the pleasure of tranquillity.

A recent hurricane blew through, rare but not uncommon for this month, and some of the old trees fell. I hate when old wood falls, but it is a reminder that we all have a finite amount of time on this earth. Trees give of themselves in both life and death, and I feel the worth of that fact as I split their logs to use in my wood stove over the winter.

Within the stillness I feel my spirituality renew itself, and again I am grateful for this month of softness.