This winter, my boys taught me about being in bliss. Every
evening as
the light was leaving, I'd head out to be with the herd. I begin by
shoveling the arena where they hang out during the day playing with each
other, sleeping in the sun, rolling in the sand. As soon as I enter the
arena, all the boys would come to me and hover around. I greet each by
name. Rascal is always the first to greet me
and is soon glued to my side, Shaman is next lowering his head by my
knees, Ranger quiet but
present, waiting. Usually Black Elk is in the rear, bigger than the
rest, trying to push them out of his way. I am honored by their
attention.
I head down to the far end to begin to shovel,
Rascal at my right shoulder, his head perfectly vertical at attention,
ears upright curved at the tips, like many mustangs. He stops on a dime
when I stop. Shaman full of Spanish Brio and Black Elk at 16-3, built
like a war horse, jostling with one
another to be on my left side. Shaman, small but strong winning this
round. As I move to shovel, each horse steps aside and
moves quietly without a word or a touch. I make a game out of it, I
back
up, they back up, I move towards a hip, and a horse circles, I move
toward a shoulder and they turn on the forehand.
A few more scoops.
Pretty soon I forget about shoveling. I am singing. Different songs,
repetitive lines, my energy is shifting. We walk, we waltz, we circle
and back up, we cha-cha,
all the boys who want do a 'chorus line' with me facing them. I smile
and laugh. I sing, I am in bliss. We wander the arena as a herd, matching
steps, matching hearts.
Black Elk heads to the stump. Look, I
can do this he is saying. The competition too fierce for his quiet nature. Yes, standing and waiting is a great trait. A
few treats are shared. They are all up on their stumps. They are
stumping it, a waiting game, an attention game, eight eyes all on me. I
sing. I invite Shaman to circle the others with me. He gets a few
pellets, the ones who wait get a few pellets. I back up. They wait. I
call them, one by one they come. Rascal and Shaman first, Black Elk
slowly leaving the biggest stump taking his long steps to me, nodding
his head, feeling like he's grinning. Ranger quiet but persistent, don't
forget about me.
I am singing, they are with me, I
am one of the herd, we move together, sideways to the right, sideways
to the left, a few steps forward a few steps back, a bite of apple.
Black Elk bites Rascal, and now he is at my right side. We move forward
in bigger steps, I am by his shoulder, I let out my air, he stops.
Rascal pushes Shaman out of his way, he's on my left now, a big boy by
each shoulder. Shaman is off looking for escaped pellets. The sun is
setting, I am still singing, I am in bliss, I go back to shoveling.
Pretty soon we call it a night, I am in bliss....
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