I don’t share with many folk the experiences I have with some frequency; almost daily. I’m not quite sure why I tend to keep them to myself. I think there are a combination of factors. They are at once deeply moving, awe-inspiring, sometimes physically taxing, some more ‘ecstatic’ than others, and seem just for me. I don’t often try to understand, figure ’em out or connect the dots. I also don’t connect them to life-stuff, psychic-stuff, spiritual-stuff and other whatnot in the way I think many other people do. And, lately, folks appear to be looking to me for answers and aren’t comfortable in accepting, “I don’t know.” I find myself using that phrase a lot when it comes to the ‘work’ that I and quite a few others do. I don’t know what ‘ascension’ is (twelfth floor, please?). I don’t know your past lives; don’t have any interest in my own. I don’t know why folks are so interested in understanding a 5th dimension (or if there is one) when we are right here, right now, in this one. I don’t know why a dog that couldn’t walk now can after I had a mere thought and why a cancerous tumor wouldn’t go away after the same process. I don’t know a whole heck of a lot and, frankly, don’t care to. So, I keep a lot to myself.
I’m drawn to share last Wednesday’s experience, though, for some reason. It’s not the first of its kind but the intensity of it, the expression of it, and the equine company in which it occurred were a first. And, I think, that by sharing my experiences others will find some comfort in knowing they are not alone & they may come to understand, through continued glimpses into my world, how I come to experience the world in my unique way and how I ‘just’ know and trust.
Some may know that I do work with horses working on both the physical and energetic levels; transforming bodies, demeanor, and communion with their humans. This week I was asked to begin working with a mare named Marge (I know, right? Who names a champion mare Marge?) She in no way resembles the blue bouffant of the same-named Simpson character. However, her frenetic behavior might look a little like Homer’s!
There was another person, a trainer named Michelle, with me to hold her still because Marge is a little off the hook—frenetic only half-describes it. I got started in my normal way and just felt and watched energy move through, in and around. I talked to her a little, watched her fight & respond, feeling it in her own unique way.
After several minutes, I felt something strange within me—as if it had moved into me–looked to Michelle and said, “Something just moved into me”. We both noted that was odd because that doesn’t happen when I work. Things don’t attach themselves to me. Introduce themselves, yes. Attach, move into, errrr, nope. I kept on keeping on and a few minutes later, energy heightened in intensity, and apparently I looked at Michelle and said, “This isn’t me.” Although I was aware that I was breathing ‘normally’, I was quite certain I would pass out because I wasn’t breathing ‘right’. I surrendered and began crying—not of sadness, not in connection with the animal’s emotions (that happens with some frequency, especially with those who have been traumatized physically and emotionally—similar to my engagement with humas), but in communion with something entirely different. I kept working with the heightened energy, the horse relaxed and shifted in her own way to something resembling calm. The string of moments (I’ve no idea how long the experience continued) was broken only when a truck pulled into the drive. I brought my bits back together, brought the horse’s bits back together, wiped snot and tears, and tried to gather my conscious thoughts. The only thing that really gelled was, “HOLY CRAP! What the hell was that about!?”
As Michelle was helping me re-ground with some tea, I told her again that that wasn’t me. That it couldn’t have been. That it felt like Christ himself or the power behind the horse herself stepped into me and that I could no more explain that or what it meant than I could anything else of this strange experience of the world I live in.
When I asked what she felt, Michelle said, “A swirling, powerful peace.” Again, I thought, “Holy crap” and couldn’t do much more than shake my head and say thank you.
I left shortly after, still trying to mull over in my head the turn of events. I know better than to try to ‘figure it out’ and I deal with similar experiences daily. Not this intense, but enough to know to just ‘roll with it’. However, that was enough to make me sit up and take notice in a slightly different way than ‘usual’.
As I turned onto Atoka Road heading home, though, the voice that’s not a voice, the thought that’s not a thought said, “That IS you. That is the whole purpose of your being! That IS your being. Know this.” If it could be given a face, voice, and tone, it would resemble a ‘tut-tutt’-ing, head shaking in exasperation, universal grandmother/father voice.
The next thought—one I have with some frequency—was, “Okay, then. Now what do I do with that.”
A week later, there have been string of other moments and events that have been built upon this one that I’ll share later.