arabian horses, change of life, change your thinking change your life, don't need to be a shaman, drama- trauma, dunked in water, inspiration, life is good, Longreads, mellow yellow labs, painted ponies, positive thinking, resiliance, self help, self realization, That's Life
That’s Life! Two words to begin an uncharted yet simple Sunday. This day turned into quite the adventure. Starting first with fixing my blogsite.
These past several weeks or so, I had noticed over 600 messaged in my spam file all deleted. And Not by me.
A computer glitch? Yes, supposedly for my protection by way of WordPress.
Now taking the time to fix the quirks for both my readers and myself, offering another learning curve. Here I have a perfect moment to change up my own mind-set. Anyone could see this as an inconvenience, time consuming, and “I am not a techy.” A perfect moment to change a negative thought of inconvenience. Taking time to understand the background workings of WordPress, I taught myself, and navigated around the problems. Signing up for furture WordPress Meet-up groups to learn from knowledgeable people, fixing the problems in my RSS – “comment and follow” feed tab.
However this is only one hour and a half hours into my Sunday. We are just beginning my day. There was to be much more once stepping aside to view the entire panorama of events when my Sunday ended. Now it all seems a rather bemusing drama. So join me in “changing up the way we think.” The point here is “Change our thinking, change your lives.”
A typical lovely sunny day in Colorado I decided to take my beloved Arabian, KlassicAmir out for a ride; we both need the exercise with Fall coming. The day before, I spent time sitting in a seminar, adding a 136 mile round trip drive from home to Denver. My derrière was tired of sitting!
Walking to the back acreage, both Arabians came greeting; nickering with my youngest Arab tossing his head around in joy-filled play. My frisky Arab is permanently lame, this is heart wrenching for he was a beautiful jumper, exquisite trotter and he loved to gallop over hills or prance through snow.
He will never to be ridden again and for the most part he is not in pain as he prances through the pines.
First a few carrot treats and some scratching of his nose and forehead. Now time to get serious about our exercise routine and get some miles out before the clouds roll in.
I called to Klassic asking him if he wished to go for a ride.
Klassic being the perfect gentlemen lowered his head into his halter then walked to the gate where I had his saddle, blankets and other tact waiting. Picking up the loofa brush, giving him a nice rub down, relieving his muscular body from the sticky fly spray and biting flies.
Horses love being brushed and groomed!
While I tact up Klassic, viewing his beauty, a perfect example of Arabian stature. He never requires a post or fenced ring to be tied. Instead he is grounded tied. This means, I drop his lead that is attached to his halter, allowing the lead to dangle to the ground, and proceed to saddle him up. This took a few years training, building immense trust!
Gently placing his wool blankets on his back, adjusting the area around his mane to not pull on his short feathered area. My Gentleman Arabian stands while being synched around his girth. Placing his sweet steel bit at his mouth, wait until he decides to open. In a few seconds the bit slides into his mouth over his tongue, he licks the steel and glances at me with his soft brown eye. A kiss to his brow and a thank you. Finally stepping into the stirrup with a leg over, shifting the girth one last time for a perfect fit. We are ready for a nice five to six mile ride.
As we walk off the property, a large truck appears with a backend filled with trimmings from a neighbors pine trees. Fires are a huge danger in this area, trimming the trees is a must and continuous through summer and fall time.
Klassic stood still watching the truck pass as the limbs waved and bobbed around in the breeze. We immediately follow the truck in a gaited trot. Klassic in a calm mood and obviously would like a slower day instead of our normal brisk fast trot or cantor as other days.
Down the hill we come to the corner, suddenly to a tense stop! Snort! Snorts expel thrice, all intent. I have an angst Arabian. The opposing corner was filled with meandering people off in the distance, all archers. To my Arab these were unknown creatures with unrecognizable objects, huge white flopping build boards flailing in the wind. Another few SNORTS; Klassic dances sideways to the left with his head turned firmly to the right. I feel his entire body tense; snorting from fear and tension, prancing sideways to bolt, never taking his eyes off this impending predator.
Horses are prey animals, anything unrecognizable or shadows moving in the grass, an old throbbing bag of dog food pinned to a fence due to wind blowing, will set most horses running.
Taking the path of least resistance, turning Klassic onto the adjoining pasture, he continued to snort and posture. It was time to head in a different direction to calm his tense mode. Klassic’s head and neck were in a compress mode. I could feel the tension in his muscles throughout his body. His hind quarters were coupled under him, ready to bolt. He stomped in a fury and then began to prance sideways. This is rather fun, however I know my Arabian is not enjoying the moment as I am. A few more snorts as I directed him up the short hill top.
Insisting this needs to be a good ride, changing the mindset of my Arab I headed him down another street. In a short distance Klassic became hesitant; head once again cocked up, ears perked – twitching back and forth – upward in a warning signal –tense rounded neck, muscle tensed we begin to walk sideways another ten feet with more snorts. What is the matter I ask? Again Klassic perks his ears straight in the air, this is a warning something is ahead and moving I do not see.
Finally, I – the cloddish human notices the problem. A half a mile down the dirt road are bobbing bouncing colorful balloons ricocheting off a mail box. Once again the Arabian puffs out his chest, SNORTS and performs the side step dance. I giggle, I am in no mood to trot Klassic down to street to greet the dangerous bouncing balloons to learn they are benign. It is a great day for a long ride, this is my intent.
Given I am approximately 1 – tenth his weight and size, having been spooked ten moments prior, I decide, some other day we will practice relieving the horrors of roadside balloons etc.. in the neighborhood.
Time to look towards the third choice in road for a ride. This would only offer a two mile ride – better than no ride. The sun is being replaced with dark grey storm clouds, as they blow in with threatening rain storms. The air is wondrous to breathe – both Arab and human need this precious time to relax and possibly allow my Klassic to graze on some lush green grass down the road.
After a couple of miles where the road dead-ends, we trot around the roundabouts several times, allowing Klassic to graze a few moments and head home. Full trot down the street after taking several sharp turns, suddenly Klassic jolts – leaps forward with full force and velocity of his 1100 pounds muscular body. This motion jostled my body in the saddle. Turning to see what spooked my Arab, I find two yellow mellow labs quietly approaching their fenced yard behind us. This time, Klassic needs to go greet his fear.
He cautiously advances to the fence as the two mellow yellow labs retreat. Patting Klassic on the neck, softly speaking “you are spooky today.” Maybe if I filled the air with song, Gene Audrey, happy trails to you, keep smiling until then…end in giggling.
Back to the house to un-tact my spooky Arab. He stood once again lowering his head as I placed another kiss on his beautiful face, hugging his muscular neck, “I love you.”
My younger Arabian is in full salty sweat from running the acreage, he needs a bath as well. Sri maybe lame however his running the acreage keeps his muscular body in excellent shape, the running abates atrophy to the damaged leg.
With a little maneuvering I swap halters from Klassic to Sri. Slowly walking Sri over to the area to wash him next to their 70 gallon water trough. A myriad of flies are now attacking and biting his delicate skin. Sri is stomping his front legs, kicking his underbelly to rid himself of the biting flies, this is not working he needs a bath!
Overhead is a substantial storm brewing coming in from the west. As I pick up the hose and loosen the lead in my hand, Sri takes a close turn into my body, steps on my foot and pushes me onto the water trough.
I grabbed the edges of the trough, holding onto the lead, while screaming from pain. Thankfully Sri’s frog, the soft part of a horses hoof, only bruised my toe. Pushing Sri while dropping the lead, allowing me to gain some composure; the last thing I wanted was to fall into 70 gallons of cold water.
That was a close one, thinking “this is an odd day” and shrug it off. Walked over to the water spicket, turned on the water washing the salt from my Arab. Mission accomplished as we walk down the slight embankment where gravel is scattered in various places.
As I ask my little Arab to walk in line with me, meaning his head is to be aligned with my shoulder. No sooner said, I slide on the downhill grave, onto my derrière!! Boom! My Arab is looking down at me and I am looking up holding onto his lead. My jeans are now damp from the ground since rains have keep the area moist over the summer. I feel the gravel scraping my legs all the way to my waist.
OK, help me up I ask. Pulling the lead, Sri backs up as I asked; all I do is slide more. He bows his head as I reach for his neck. Nope that is not going to work either. Turning on my side to my knees with lead and horse in one hand and other hand holding onto his sturdy neck. The gravel is slippery on a muddy wet embankment, nevertheless the muscles in Sri’s neck help me regain my footing and balance. Hugging his neck and kissing his face in gratitude while brushing off my now wet dirty jeans.
At this point I am laughing at the irony of the day. First the blog, then my beloved Klassic of 15 years is spooked by tiny human archers, some balloons bouncing, mellow yellow labs, I was almost pushed into 70 gallons of cold water, my horse walked on my foot, and the thunderstorms are threatening to rain. “That’s life” offering detours. This is life: Frank Sinatra sang about it, “That’s Life”
Frank Sinatra sang about it:
In the recent past it was difficult for me to “change my thinking, change my life” mode, for the area I lived in New Mexico people seemed more negative than Coloradans. The word “Stuck” was often used by others. Morbidly stuck that is! This mode of thought did not allow me the luxury of sharing with others, in how I saw the events of a humorous day. Instead the sharing would culminate in their more horrifying stories. Morbid thinking left me dispelled of positive energy. These typical sharing times I would call “my dog is bigger, meaner and bad-der than your dog and my life sucks more” scenarios. There was no elevation of Wrong Things Gone Right. It is wonderful to be home in Colorado now, where I might share a humorous day of detours.
Simplified quantum mechanics tells us, to inspire is to think and see life differently, allowing the brain to form positive – creative neurons, firing new cluster of synapses; engaging insightful novel ideas to each moment of life.
We can chose to have all these moments either in drama-trauma participation, or (!!) a contingency in which we move from moment to moment with enlightenment. Changing the way we think – changes our lives! This is stated in many different venues: quantum mechanics, self-help books, spiritual endeavors, religious beliefs etc.. We have choices through every crossroad of our lives – how we chose to think and feel is truly our choice.
I could be morbid about the spooking of my Arabian – not having a long ride – or my bruised toe – almost being dunked into a cold water trough – making the entire day more negative… or…. Let go! Enjoying the moments that brought challenges and seeing through each event as furthering the abilities to grow stronger, enjoy what may come, “my toe is not broken and I adore my beautiful Arabians.” They are a joy in my life.
I have gone through horrible times in life along with millions of others. Some seemingly “stealing life from me.” Instead of giving up, I changed the thought patterns once again. I began my own research project, recovering from the impossible, learning a great deal to pass along to others.
At this time, I see a lifetime of writing, mentoring, speaking with authentic knowledge. How can we change these moment and view life through different lenses? We gravitate to the happier side of people – giggles – and infectious smiles. This does take practice – the ideas will open with new opportunities in life, advancing positive freedom from the drudgery.
Instead of delving into the dramas, having others feel sorry for us, possibly alienating ourselves from the positive side of human touch and comfort. We need to share these formidable moments with empathy and understanding. We all have ups and downs, adding a positive outlook even during the most burdensome of life. For some of these detours may take years to overcome. Resilience gives us the ability to live with what comes and takes hold. These are moments when we learn “things turn out best, for those who make the most of what turns out.”
What did get me through years of pain were a multiple of people, and my horses, my dog Sade with one vision of a man I use to see most days as I walked to work in downtown Denver.
Every day, a fine suited business gentleman wheeled himself down the sidewalks of Denver. He was a paraplegic. Sometimes he was pushed through the snow. Sometimes he would speak with fellow business personnel walking by his side. Other times he was alone, nevertheless – everyday he pushed himself to work! I never forgot him, although never knowing his name, he was an inspiration.
Going inside the house I was greet by my delightful happy dog. Life is not perfect, but it is wonderful in its wondrous challenging imperfections. Sade and I hopped into the car to pick up a few things from the local store.
As we drove a few blocks we found a lone Paint Pony, out of his pasture with no one leading him, no halter – happily grazing on the grass by the church and close to a main thorough fare.
Stopping at a nearby house with a horse in a pasture gazing at the happy renegaded Paint pony; I rang the bell. No one answer, drove across the street. These people knew immediately it was the neighbors across the street wondering pony.
After I shopped for a few items, rolling the cart out to the car, I thought to myself, not getting the exercise I desired earlier, I would at least roll my cart the 30 some feet to the store.
As I turned to roll my cart six feet, a handsome dark haired gentleman was bounding out of his SUV, with a smile ask “may I take your cart for you!” Well dang, of course I have to oblige him with a smile.
Driving back up the road, the little Painted Pony was safely home. Sade is smiling on the front seat of the car. Both Arabians are washed and basking in the sun waiting till diner hay is served. The sun is drooping to a lovely sunset. That’s Life!
Sunday did turn out to be what I wanted, with a few little twisted adventures.