Working with Horses

I'm feeling pretty fortunate that I've found a volunteer opportunity working with 8 horses at a local horse farm.

Each horse has its unique personality, attitudes, and energy. I have only worked with them for about two hours. I've spent that time divided between them so only 10-20 minutes with each one.

There large size means their energy is large as well. I readily gained first impressions and insight into each animal. 

My Boss just brought in two wild horses who are only 100 days removed from the wild. Their energy and personalities stunned and surprised me.

The 3 year old Mare, when I was standing in her stall hooking up her feed bag, has amazing energy. Standing there, I could sense her running wild with delight in a forest. Her energy was bigger than her stall. 

The 1 year old Male, his energy was not as "defined". I felt an immense open plain while I was near him. Clearly, I had the feeling that these were indeed, wild horses. Their spirits are so large and unbounded. I can't help but wonder how they will handle this huge and dramatic transition to becoming tame. I look forward to observing them and helping if I can.

It is most helpful that they have each other and are from the same herd. It will give them needed connection.

Another horse that intrigued me with her energy is Ar. Ar is part wild pony, if memory serves. She has a very headstrongness to her and requires a firm touch. What is odd about her is that whenever I see her or think of her, I want to call her "Alice".

Her history says her previous owner was male, so I'm not picking up the name from there. Maybe her official name has Alice in it. Or maybe that's just how she wants me to address her. 

She's a beautiful, bossy, wonderful horse. I shall call her Alice.

New Emotion, Caution

I felt an emotion that I have never experienced before. Today when I was working at the horse farm, I was in a stall with a mighty big horse. I've only been volunteering there twice before so much of it is still unfamiliar. 

While in the stall, I had to maneuver a big wheelbarrow around the big horse but the floor covering had risen making the floor uneven and difficult to wheel on.

I stopped. Part of me wanted to just push really hard and run the wheelbarrow fast and carelessly over the defect. Part of me felt something and said, "no, wait."

Caution. I felt Caution. I realized this was a potentially dangerous situation that could cause me or my friend Big Horse potential injury.

I stopped. Felt caution along my chest and rethought what I was doing. I needed to make this safer. So, I encouraged the halters horse to move over and I used a different route to get to the other side of the stall. I could not name this unusual feeling, yet.

Upon arriving home from the farm, I jumped in the shower. As I noticed the tub floor was a bit slippery again I took note and stopped. I felt that feeling again and realized it's probably named Caution. I took extra precaution in the shower until I exited. I made sure to scrub clean the tub floor immediately after.

Caution. A word I had heard and logically understood but has never physically felt.

Awesome

More Great Moby Dick Quotes I ❤️

Chapter V

I cherished no malice towards him, though he had been skylarking with me not a little in the matter of my bedfellows.

However, a good laugh is a mighty good thing, and rather too scarce a good thing; the more's the pity.

But that was certainly very coolly done by him, and every one knows that in most people's estimation, to do anything coolly is to fo it genteelly.

And in August, high in air, the beautiful and bountiful horse-chedtnuts, candelabra-wise, proffer the passer-by their tapering upright cones of congregated blossoms.

Methinks we have hugely mistaken this matter of Life and Death.

Methinks that what they call my shadow here on earth is my true substance.

Methinks that in looking at things spiritual, we are too much like oysters observing the sun through the water, and thinking that thick water is the thinnest air.

At the time I now write of, Father Mapple was in the hardy winter of a healthy old age; that sort of old age which seems merging into a second flowering youth, for among all the fissures of his wrinkles, there shone certain mild gleams of a newly developing bloom- the spring verdure peeping forth even beneath February's snow.