Mindfulness as practice…not perfection

Last night after writing this post on FB, I received a call from the barn manager where Dreamweaver Sunday lives:

Today’s Awakening: As my relationship with Dreamweaver Sunday continues to deepen, I am in awe of her ability as a healing partner. Her ability to hold space, while at the same time being completely authentic, is an inspiration to me. Each Horse Medicine session is a dance of trust and letting go. 

As we walked back to the barn after the session today, with the client leading her, I walked behind her shoulder a few paces, allowing her to feel my presence but giving space for the client and Sunday to find their way. I noticed that despite the fact that I was behind her, she was also quite aware of where I was and would turn her ear and eye toward me as if seeking guidance. I found that by simply breathing, I could feel her slow her pace, just as we have been practicing, letting me know we were still very deeply connected to one another.  I am so grateful for this gift in my life.

Back to the call…

The communication was entirely in Spanish and from what I could gather, it seemed like Sunday had not eaten at 3pm, but now at 4:30 was, “Esta bien.” I immediately went into “fight/flight mode. My gut was clenched and my heart was racing, as he attempted to tell me what was going on and I was desperate to make sure I could completely understand what he was trying to tell me. At the time of his call I was getting ready to have some girlfriends for dinner and so I was wondering if I should call it all off and head up to the ranch. Instead, I called my dearest friend/sister, who speaks fluent Spanish-and 5 other languages-and prayed she would answer the phone. After about 5 rings, I about gave up and she picked up and said, “I saw you calling, but was busy, so I wasn’t going to answer, but I felt like I had to pick up.” I could feel my adrenaline lower immediately. I had the barn manager on the other line and I patched in my friend. I listened closely as they spoke, picking up words here and there, but most of what I got was that she really was fine now and eating. We hung up with the manager and she explained in detail what was going on. Still, it was not easy to release my fears, but I decided to trust what I was being told and get through dinner and see how I felt.

Before doing that, I called another dear friend and sister Susan Gibbs. We co-owned Annie Two-Moons together and she is a life long true cowgirl. I explained what was going on and she said she would send me the ER Docs info in case I needed it. We hung up and my phone completely froze and crashed! By this time, the women had started to arrive and before I could truly let go, I texted the barn trainer from my computer, who had just come out of surgery, for a hand injury-or so I thought-to ask her thoughts. Yes…I’m a new mom! She told me her surgery had been postponed and she thought everything was fine. She said that with the amount of food they are getting during the heavy snow fall , she probably was just not hungry.

As the women settled by the fire, I ran the day through my mind one more time. When we arrived at 10am for the session, she was totally fine, eating her breakfast and had pooped right in front of me. Good sign! At the end of the session at 11:30, she had her bucket of oats and carrots and gobbled it up. Good sign! When we left, she was alert and happy. Check! And so, with my phone down and communication cut off, I handed it over to my Higher Power-Spirit-God-Goddess-Creator, and gathered with the girls. To come fully present, I decided I would check in with myself when they left and head up to the ranch if I was still feeling uneasy.

Somehow I was truly able to Let Go, Let Spirit and we had a lovely evening of pizza, laughter and new friendship. The gals left about 9:30 and I did a body scan. The “fear” was gone, but I had a deep sense that I wanted to lay eyes on my girl, knowing that I would sleep better if I connected with her in this way. So Blue and I bundled up like and snowmen and off we went on the icy, snow covered roads. We arrived at the ranch and I was a bit concerned about getting my Subaru stuck in the deep new snow, so I parked on level ground, faced my car toward the pasture and turned on my brights. Suddenly, a magical world came to light. The horses, all tucked in for the night, some with blankets and others covered in ice and fresh snow, came into view. The air was thick with the misty steam coming out of their nostrils. As I walked toward the herd in the stillness of the black evening, I felt my entire body relax. It was a feeling of coming home, a moment hard to describe in words.

I went to the fence and found Sunday and her pasture mate Lacy happily nibbling their fresh hay. I took off my glove and attempted to find Sunday’s pulse, but since it was the first time I’d ever tried it, I was having no luck. She stood with me and sniffed my hand with her nostrils. I smiled, wondering if she could smell the garlic from the pizza or the apple cobbler I’d made for desert. I stood with Sunday and Lacy and did another body scan. All I could feel was a sense of deep calm and overwhelming love. Off in the distance one of the families that lives on the property were engaging in an evening sledding party. The sound of their laughter and joy carried over to me and I knew that all was well. I kissed the girls on the nose. Said a prayer of thanks to the Powers that Be and walked back toward my headlights, listening to the breath of the herd and the crunching of their powerful jaws as they ate to stay warm.

Our minds are a terrible thing to waste. Remember that catchphrase? It was used at the time in reference to education, but it has a different meaning for me now.  In my book Creative Awakenings, I wrote about the “What if,” syndrome and that we have a choice in that department about the movie we chose to play.  We can play the “What if,” horror movie, or the “What if,” bliss movie. It’s all a practice of mindfulness. I can’t say I am perfect at this, but as they say…

“It’s a practice.”