Here's something you might be interested in.
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2012/jul/12/27892/
he had taught her so carefully...taught her with the care given by a horse whisperer to his prize student...careful to send the message to all of her six senses
all to no avail
and she thought
i'm so sorry i failed at this...... .
she remembered lessons she learned from an old horse trainer...... "there are horses" he said "that travel best and love you more when you hold the reins lightly.....give them their head....honor their spirit with your gentle caress and that encouragement will bind them to you.....they will make you their own....and prance gleefully in the freedom of your pasture......knowing full well they can jump the fence at any time and and return to the wild..... because you've gentled them...nuzzled them ...blown your breath into their nostrils...scented them with you presense....they will never leave"
other horses may be unhappy that you haven't brought them meaningfully into your life with tightened reins...acknowledged them with closer attendance to their great impetuosity....applied a spur lightly...leaned forward to bite their ear....and whisper "you must be mine now....i will pull you up...apply control...sway upon your body and celebrate my place there...make it known to you in this fierce way you need to understand.....that YOU are my horse.....only fit for me to ride"
but how do you know which horse is which ?????
should she have taken a longer time to plumb this man's depth.....the messages were mixed.....a haunty look may have meant let me have the reins....or tighten them to show me you know my nature.....
she had never become a worthy horsewoman....even tho her sister had and when the treeline image disappeared she waited for a while.......and scanned the horizen....fitfully for his image.... later she knew she would break the crimson glass and cut deeply into her skin til it bled the color she was feeling....and cut her hair and shave her head...heap the ashes from the campfire they had warmed themselves by over her body and cry out her loneliness with the coyotes each nite....til her voice failed her....but it had already failed her......
she knew not enough about horses to hold him and that would haunt her for the rest of her life
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2012/jul/12/27892/
he had taught her so carefully...taught her with the care given by a horse whisperer to his prize student...careful to send the message to all of her six senses
all to no avail
and she thought
i'm so sorry i failed at this...... .
she remembered lessons she learned from an old horse trainer...... "there are horses" he said "that travel best and love you more when you hold the reins lightly.....give them their head....honor their spirit with your gentle caress and that encouragement will bind them to you.....they will make you their own....and prance gleefully in the freedom of your pasture......knowing full well they can jump the fence at any time and and return to the wild..... because you've gentled them...nuzzled them ...blown your breath into their nostrils...scented them with you presense....they will never leave"
other horses may be unhappy that you haven't brought them meaningfully into your life with tightened reins...acknowledged them with closer attendance to their great impetuosity....applied a spur lightly...leaned forward to bite their ear....and whisper "you must be mine now....i will pull you up...apply control...sway upon your body and celebrate my place there...make it known to you in this fierce way you need to understand.....that YOU are my horse.....only fit for me to ride"
but how do you know which horse is which ?????
should she have taken a longer time to plumb this man's depth.....the messages were mixed.....a haunty look may have meant let me have the reins....or tighten them to show me you know my nature.....
she had never become a worthy horsewoman....even tho her sister had and when the treeline image disappeared she waited for a while.......and scanned the horizen....fitfully for his image.... later she knew she would break the crimson glass and cut deeply into her skin til it bled the color she was feeling....and cut her hair and shave her head...heap the ashes from the campfire they had warmed themselves by over her body and cry out her loneliness with the coyotes each nite....til her voice failed her....but it had already failed her......
she knew not enough about horses to hold him and that would haunt her for the rest of her life