From left, Mithra, Josie, Brian, Ruth, Jay, Loretta, Taylor.
It was Jesus Christ who said “let the children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” I thought of this beautiful plea today when I left Blue Star in the afternoon, I thought that the children had come, they are building a new kingdom.
It felt to me as if I saw the future today at Blue Star Equiculture, this mystical farm in Massachusetts, this place of life and death, but more than anything, of promise. My soul rises when I see the energy and compassion of the young gathering there, warriors for sure, but for a very different kind of struggle.
Blue Star is a rescue and retirement home and center for the study of working horses. It is also an organic farming center pioneering news ways of environmental farming. But it is much more than that now.
When I first went to Blue Star more than a year ago, I believed that I had seen the future for animals and the people who love them. A place that cherishes the connection between people and animals, that supports it, that offers haven and meaning and redemption to people and animals, and treats them all with love and dignity and care.
I have to come see that the Blue Star is bigger than people and animals, it is the birthing of a new way, the rise of the young, of new values, of seeing the world anew. The promise of a better world. This is a place of harmony and passion, of love and connection. The heart of Blue Star has been torn open, it is beating stronger than ever.
Paul Moshimer, the co-director of Blue Star, the husband of Pamela Rickenbach, the founder of Blue Star, is gone. A soulkeeper to so many people, a mentor to the young, a lover of the horses, a hero life saver for much of his life, died two weeks ago. When I heard the news, I feared that the Blue Star dream had been shattered, that it might perish with him.
Paul loved the young people drawn to the farm dearly, he helped and encourage them in every way that he could, they were so important to him, he was so important to them. Paul is very much alive in their spirits and dreams, in a powerful way they are his children.
Strong as she is, I wondered if Pamela could do it alone. It is not a simple thing to care for more than 30 draft horses, to pay for their feed and wounds, to give them wonderful lives and to rescue others in need. Their partnership was profound. I am not wondering that any longer.
Death paves the way for life, it doesn’t just take it away. It opens the door to change. The Reaper is, I think, an angel of promise and hope, not just of loss. Into the void left behind by Paul’s decision to take his own life came a host of spirits, the young people – interns, former and current students, people from other states, even other countries.
And just like that, the dark and empty hole began to fill up with color and light.
The young people came because they were drawn to the Blue Star idea of a better and more meaningful way to live than many of their elders have chosen. They feel deeply their responsibility to Mother Earth and to the animals, our partners in the joys, travails and future of the world. They understand technology, but are not enslaved by it, they can turn their devices off and listen and talk to one another. They see the culture of fear that enslaves so many in hollow lives and work in order to be secure and responsible. They sleep on floors and in trucks and out in the pasture, they walk in mud and manure all day long, they shovel and dig and brush, they plant and nurse, they share every morsel of food they have.
They see a world mired in greed, worshiping money and promising security in a world that money and spiritual blindness is devouring.They say no to it.
They see a world in the grip of war and bloodshed, and reject it.
I have been to Blue Star a half dozen times, I have never heard a one of them whine, complain, speak poorly of their lives, or ill of any other. And they have suffered plenty. They are the real news, the big story, but you will not see them on cable news, their life is not an argument, they are the biological opposites of the cruel and disconnected people who run so much of our world and who claim to speak for the rights of animals.
These are not the people frantically stashing away money so that they can buy themselves more empty time at the other end of life.
These are the people respect one another with a gentleness and trust that takes away the breath of people who live in the so-called real world, where judgement and cruelty and division are the currency of the time. They are deeply connected to the culture and ways of the First Nation, the keepers of the earth. They do not use animals as a club against people, they seek to restore the broken bond between people and animals.
It is a mistake to romanticize the young any more than the old. These are not saints, they are very human, as Paul was, as Pamela is. This is not the habitat of the holy, but of the real. I think they are binding themselves to one another for life, and to those us who wish to cheer them on, cry for them, and dream with them.
Pamela is a prophet and a mystic. She is a strong and powerful person. Wreathed in sorrow and loss, she opened her arms to the future, not the past, and it came right through the door, and is coming still. The young people at Blue Star want to pick up the dream of a better way and make it happen. They are the light cutting through the darkness. If you ask them, they will tell you to a one that in a time of cynicism, anger and greed, they are turning away from both. The Indian Chiefs say that we will either learn to live in harmony, or perish together.
They have lots to do.
It is time to stop pretending that old have all the truth, clutching their hoary and failed wisdom to their bosoms. The old days were never very good, we can only build a better future. Listening to the kids at Blue Star, I feel some shame and sorrow, I want to apologize to them for the world we left, for the many messes we made. Sometimes it seems their elders have forgotten what it means to be human.
But more than regret, I feel a sense of hope when I am there. It is time, it seems, for real change, and these amazing human beings bring a strength and quiet dignity that one can touch and feel.
I am happy and proud to stand with the children of Blue Star, to take their photos, and give way. I bow to them and cherish them and cheer them on. I am humbled to try and tell their story.
They are meaning to build a better world than was left them. Many of them understand pain and cruelty very well, they are determined to never inflict either on animals or people.
In our world, Jesus Christ is oft invoked, little followed. At Blue Star, the children have come, and the kingdom of the future is theirs.
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You can follow these dreams or support them yourself here.