Day: March 18, 2014

Cat meditation, sunrise. The barn cat that came in from the cold.

If you know a bit about life,

it’s because you’ve taken a big swallow of it,

you’ve fallen into the rathole,

like I did,

crushed a leaf between your fingers,

waved it slowly, back and forth,

under your nose,

there was nothing else alive.

I’ll tell you my story,

if you tell me yours,

Once upon a time,

I fell into the rathole,

I looked as hard as anyone

could look,

into myself,

I cried my heart out,

until it nearly flew outside of me,

the rathole was a swirling place,

full of dying spirits and lost dreams,

and hollow men, begging for mercy,

there was no soft moss to break the fall,

my mind jumped out of my head,

rushed in front of me, trying to run away,

I thought I could never get out,

my soul chained to the stone wall

that even the rats could not climb,

I gave up hope,

until one morning,

I did escape my rathole, having learned that

time is the space

where everyone prays and works,

hard,

to find enough love,

to break the shackle.

Mums for sale.

Graining time makes chores complex. The pregnant sheep and the donkeys get separate grain (we only grain the donkeys in the bitter cold, but the bred ewes need grain (sheep grain) every day, they don’t do well on the copper in the equine grain. Animals get frenzied around grain, it excites and arouses them, this is when Red is  essential. He keeps the sheep away from the donkey feeder, and keeps them from storming the pole barn while we are inside of it pouring the grain into buckets. Then he holds them inside and keeps the donkeys from barging in after the sheep grain and vice versa.

Red earns his keep every day, but never more so than during a time like this. All three donkeys moved right over him and he didn’t move an inch. He kept the sheep right were we needed them to be.

 

 

I received a message on Facebook this morning, one I would have laughed at a few years ago and rolled my eyes –  but I know myself better now, a spiritual life comes only when one is prepared to receive it.  This message was from a Native American Chief, Arvol Looking Horse and it came by way of a working horse rescue farm called Blue Star Equiculture, a fascinating place that is much reviled by the people who call themselves supporters of animal rights.

 The message surprised me, it was a call to prayer Sunday, on our farms, in our backyards, or with our horses or donkeys, or other animals, the prayer is for the New York Carriage Horses. Today, said Chief Avrol, the Horse Nation is being dismissed as having no worth any longer in our society. There is nowhere for them to roam, they are being dismissed and replaced and slaughtered.

 Chief Avrol asked from his heart that we open our hearts and minds to how all things are connected. Future generations and all life on Mother Earth depend on us to remember that the horses are  needed in our time, in this generation, even though so many people have lost their understanding of them. It is a blessing that the horses still live and work with people in New York City, said Chief Avrol. The horses bring the rain and the thunder. Keep the horses where they are, asks Chief Avrol, and ask them for help in these times that are so critical for our environment.

 I read the message to Maria – I was still unsure of it – she is my heart and my sacred place, the most deeply spiritual being,  and I could see her eyes tear and she said it was a powerful message, it touched her heart too.  So I accepted it, opened myself up to it. I said it made me want to write my own prayer for the horses, she thought that was a beautiful response. My prayer is for the horses, for all of the animals of the world, the fate of the horses in New York will ripple throughout the world, it will affect not only the horses but whether or not we humans have the will and compassion to keep these and other animals alive, connected to us and in the world. The chief is right, we need them, they have worth and meaning in our lives today far beyond the tourists they carry, they do bring the rain and the thunder, they ought not to be dismissed and discarded and sent to slaughter.

This is my prayer:

—

“Until he extends the circle of his compassion to all living things, man will not himself find peace.” – Albert Schweitzer.

I pray for the lives and presence of the New York Carriage Horses,

for the horses who suffer,

for those who are well,

for those who are discarded,

dismissed and driven from our

world, I pray to save them,

and that we do not patronize them,

or pity them to death,

or banish them as being too frail and weak

and unfit for our world,

when it is us who are unfit for theirs.

I pray that we respect them, and listen to them,

and hear their calls to live among us,

to survive and work in our world,

as they have done for thousands of years,

for so much of human time.

I pray for tolerance and compassion for them,

and for the people who love them,

that we see that love comes in so many different ways,

there is not one good life for them, but many,

if we are strong and brave,

none too small or without meaning,

from giving rides, to pulling carriages and carts.

I pray that people see that the horses  are not served by hatred and argument

and accusation, things they do not know,

things they do not do.

I pray the horses are never again exploited

used to harm

the people who love and live with them them,

or any other people,

it is a violation of their souls.

The horses remind us that compassion for people,

and compassion for animals, is the same thing,

one cannot exist without the other,

we are all one thing, we are all connected.

I pray that we can open our hearts and minds to the horses,

they, not us, are the great work, a true heart is a student of them,

not a teacher or a savior.

I pray they are saved from our blindness towards them,

they are the among last true spirits of the world,

that we can ever see,

so many are lost.

I pray we do not lose them also.

If they are gone, they can never be replaced.

I pray they are seen not as obstacles to our life,

but as life itself,

small miracles who still move among us,

they bring the thunder and the rain,

the sing of the broken heart of Mother Earth,

and the ghosts of their lost brethren,

pushed from the world by our arrogance and greed.

I pray the horses remain to help reconnect  us to the lost natural world,

to the world of animals,

that we have left behind, banished to make room,

for our screens and devices and

mechanical things.

I pray we honor our great debt to the horses,

they were everywhere with us, woven through our lives,

I pray they keep their small and sacred and timeless space,

in our chaotic world.

We owe them so much more, than to diminish

their lives, hide them forever from sigh or purpose.

I pray we are not again blinded by our narrowness of vision,

they are so much more than rides,

the only space we have left for them,

so we can convince ourselves,

to trivialize and banish them.

I pray we let these horses heal us, and remind us who we are,

and where we have been.

For the horses are not strangers,

they are not inconveniences to be exiled

to make way for more buildings and machines,

they are our partners in the world, our fellow travelers,

our witnesses and prophets, we cannot succeed

if they fail,

we are bound to them in the most sacred of ways,

they cry out to us to remember our past, our purpose,

what it truly means to be a human being,

who shares, not dominates, the earth.

And what it means to be an animal,

who has the right to live on this hearth.

I pray that the horses be spared the machinations and arrogance

and foolishness of human beings and their politicians,

who lie and quarrel selfishly, and whose memories are short,

who kill the magic in our world.

I pray the horses stay in their rightful place, living and working

with the people who know and love them,

and the others who need them so desperately,

even if they cannot see it or know it.

If you close your eyes, you can hear them,

they speak to us when we can listen.

For the horses are not our children, they are not our wards,

they do not seek to be

pitied or saved or diminished,

they are spirit beings of great strength and endurance,

not frail things to be hidden away from the real world.

They are bound to us, through blood and time and history and travail

and great achievement, they are the best and the worst of us.

I pray their fate be considered with gentle hands and kindly words.

I pray for us to be given the strength to be true friends and partners

to these powerful spirits of our world.

– By me, Jon Katz