For me, waking up began with
A horse who taught me that I had to find balance within myself,
Before asking anything of him
He had dark, knowing eyes, black and white spots, and towered over me with an arched Fresian neck. He radiated sensitivity and stark beauty, you could feel it across a five acre paddock.
In the early days, I treated him like any other horse, because up to that point in my life, I’d never met a horse like him. It didn’t take long to realize that he needed to be spoken to differently, meaning, I had to learn a new language. Slowly, very slowly, we moved two steps forward, two or five steps backwards for months on end.
I still thought it was “him.”
It wasn’t until I started realizing that it was me, that things began to change.
It wasn’t smooth sailing, but we conquered some massive hurdles together, got into and out of some incredible predicaments, but our trust in each other grew everyday. However, it’s not hard to imagine why he would run across the field away from me some days; he gave me a mirror to see myself in, and at that time, it wasn’t often a pretty reflection.
Outwardly, I was stone-faced, pretending I was fine, but internally, an emotional hot mess—the exact way he presented himself. Our bodies were tense, stoic, unemotional on the outside, difficult to read, but below the surface, there was a turbulent storm of anxiety and rage within both of us.
The trick was finding that place of peace, because when we were there, present with each other, we found connection.
Nearly a year and a half (on and off) of working together, a fluke incident happened. Everything had felt fine as I’d carefully sat myself in the saddle before hitting the trail, but immediately, his body stiffened, 30 seconds later, it was fireworks. He bucked hard a few times before I flew up and over and also down a slight hill, there was a lot of hang time before my face caught my body full force. Somehow, my forehead landed perfectly on a root that my nose didn’t smash flat on the hard ground.
Dizzy, but alive, nose ring ripped out, my face was swollen and bloody, I had to run and find him. He had gone back to his paddock, nostrils flared, head high, agitated. GET THIS OFF MY BACK he shouted.
After the adrenaline dipped, the pain set in and I lay in bed the rest of the day. I’d heard my boss’s words over and over how “unpredictable and dangerous” that horse is. But I knew… something else happened. As I lay there, replaying the scenario, I heard a voice? Felt a knowing? I couldn’t explain it, but I texted a co-worker to check the saddle blanket for burrs, those pesky little velcro balls. And sure enough that’s exactly what she’d found, right where my pressure would have pushed them into his body.
A week later, the timing was such that, I’d left for a winter of traveling to the jungles of Central America, and when I returned in the Spring, I felt myself changed, something was bubbling below the surface.
But I couldn’t work with him. Was it nerves? Yes, but it was also knowing that he didn’t want to do the things I was asking/telling him to in the way that I had been. I started to hear all of the horses and see through the traditional, foggy lens that I’d been looking through my whole life. Things were shifting on a number of levels, I had little control over it, yet was thirsty for more.
There was a day I finally cracked wide open, raw emotions flooding the scene, pouring from every crevice of my hardened exterior, triggered by the notion that Moe was getting hauled off to a “new trainer” without my knowing.
I asked Moe permission if we could have one last ride together before I had to load him into the trailer. I had even said this before I knew this would be the last time I’d ever see him. Nerves filled my body, those uncontrollable jitters vibrating through your fingers, taking deep breaths to calm the butterflies in your stomach, kind of nerves. It had been almost seven months since falling off, and although I’d ridden plenty since then, it wasn’t with him.
But he was gentle and kind. He said yes…and I’d heard it.
He let me climb up, relax my body and my seat, and we both took some big breaths before he took any steps. He walked carefully as though he knew he was carrying fragile material, not like any other time we used to ride when he walked briskly as if something would nip his tail.
He took care of me in this vulnerable state I was in and I’d never felt safer with him before.
I asked if we could trot or canter, but that it was up to him. He said yes again.
Flawlessly, gracefully, he picked up his big feathered legs and loped around the arena. Tears poured down my face because my heart knew this was it. This was the last time we’d do this.
The next day, thanks to Moe, I had the courage to quit a toxic situation/job that had served its time. I will always be grateful to him for all of the hard and beautiful lessons he gave me.
I spent the week gathering up my belongings in my Jeep Liberty, stacked like Tetris, as I’d been living in a small cabin on the ranch for the past couple years. And in that same week, my grandmother passed away.
Death was real on many levels- my sweet grandma, my identity as I knew it.
From then on,
It felt like someone slowly tearing pieces of my heart away
In small chunks at a time,
One revelation after the next,
For how I loved horses,
Was not love at all
I took their symbolism of freedom as my own,
Using their bodies to carry me to liberation
Through forests, over mountains, across beaches,
A ride of a lifetime,
Yes,
But now,
It was time to slow down,
Walk beside them,
And relearn from the ground up
What is means to be free,
truly free
Moe never left my thoughts, he was my muse in my art, my purpose, my mission to explore others ways and share new ideas of how we can interact with our horses. Our hearts always felt connected, even if at times, it felt so distant.
In February 2022 I got a call from the person who currently had Moe. She asked questions on his history because they were having a rough time with his “bucking issue.” I told her what I could, but I also hadn’t seen him in nearly 3 years, so I wasn’t sure how relevant my information was. I ended the conversation with the bold statement of “If you ever need to rehome him, please reach out to me first, I will figure it out.”
I can see this in hindsight now, that Moe was working in his own way, to reconnect the two of us again in the physical. Truly, I did not think I would ever see him again, but I watched for the next 6 months, her progress and setbacks with him via social media, and I felt oddly closer to him than ever, like we were right around the corner from one another.
During this period, I was going through a deep transformation, I was living in a desert of my imagination. My creativity, purpose, drive, was lackluster at best, but there was something within me saying “surrender fully.” It was as though I had to allow myself to sink to the unknown depths in order to trust that I would resurface.
When I had fully let go of everything and trusted fully that things would align again, that’s when I received the message.
Moe needed to be rehomed as soon as possible.
I burst out crying in a department store.
I felt the puzzle pieces clicking into place all at once.
Immediately, I reached out to my childhood friend who owns a sanctuary, and without hesitation agreed to let Moe stay, I just needed to get him there. He made the trip from North Carolina to Wisconsin and landed safely at her farm, all of this happening within a few weeks.
It was over a month before I was able to see him. There was so much anticipation and build up for me. Would he remember? Would he run away? Would he reject me?
I longed for this beautiful reunion, souls reconnecting, sparks flying, for him to be proud of my personal evolution and stable energy.
It was a welcome home in many ways when he greeted me, gently touching my hand. He let me hug him and a few seconds later, as tears streamed down my eyes, he wrapped his long neck around my body and held me.
This is the chapter of our story together, he has so much to share with the world, held behind the portals of his dark eyes. He asked me to fully trust him, to surrender and allow him to guide me as we continue down this path together, and I will.
With this new chapter, comes a new name, releasing attachments and stories that we both carried with us, we have let go of Moe, the anxious, unpredictable horse. Now, he is Merlin, stepping into his role as a magician, a spiritual guide as we enter this new paradigm.
What’s beautiful, is that over the past few years of him integrated into a herd of sanctuary horses, who are not asked to do anything they don’t want to do, he has stepped up in a big way as a healer, as a holder of space. He is fully in his power and is truly making a difference.
While I don’t know what the future holds for us in terms of physically being in the same place, I know that are hearts and souls will always be connected in an inseparable, karmic bond.
