Something about horses arises, almost daily. Mary Oliver writes about stepping into Marc Franz's painting of four blue horses. I marvel at his work--bright primary colors depicting horses, cows, foxes, cats. German Expressionism. I marvel at Mary Oliver and how she expresses her observations of the natural world through her poetry and essays. I book a riding lesson at Silver Fox Farms with Colleen. The drive is beautiful, the horse and I make circles in the arena, walking, trotting. An English saddle and very different from what I know and I like it but long to be set free on an open trail. The detailed instruction reminds me of Iyengar Yoga--use your core, press down through your heels, keep your shins in and against the body of the horse, don't cross your hands, elbows in, look straight ahead, not down, don't lean forward, keep your spine erect. It's cold and drizzling, then later the snow comes dancing down in the dark as we rush to bring in selected plants. The neighbor lady honks at her horses and I begin practicing the first four steps of nine in the Enneagram of Letting Go--see it, say it, sense it, stay with it. Then, relax, respire, reconnect, reframe. Presence. Those pesky little hooks can grab me in an instant and I'm off and galloping into non-reality. Of late I've been seeing a young therapist with thick hair cropped close to the skin on the sides and in the back of his head. The most beautiful teeth I've ever seen. There is a dance being taught and learned--how to engage and tango with Essence. There is discipline in this. We work with Meredith and follow her instructions on Chinese yoga, movement, breath, chi, yin and yang. My muscles ache. On Wednesdays I place my mat close to the heart chakra quartz crystal singing bowl and feel the vibrations resonating deep within. Jan's east Texas voice soothes and the long sound of her esses is sweet. Dixie tells me she has been spending time with Light On Yoga and I tell her that Anne has been teaching the road to malasana and other asanas on the syllabus. The Christmas tree is up and the decorations are out, presents are wrapped, plans are in the works. I've had nightly visits from raccoons, a fox, a beautiful skunk, and the mysterious buck that somehow manages to come and go as he pleases despite the seven and a half foot fence that apparently is not an obstacle. How glorious to gracefully leap over the many obstacles that block our path!
