Time flies - it's writing retreat day, and I'm getting packed and heading out soon. The magical ponies are ready to ride, and I'm leaving the real magical ponies at home in a cloud of pollen. With my sincerest hope that the rain comes tonight and cleans everything up for them.
Also leaving behind a list a mile long for husband. (Sheaffer, this is when I need your love of lists and perfect memory - though it would be hard to choose - leave you here as my list-enforcer or take you with me to the mansion - I think you'd be going with me!)
It's funny and wonderful that even in the midst of the hard part about writing retreat, which is extricating myself from my routine here, from the animals and all the things they bring to my days, I can already feel the pull of the story I'm working on. The promise of uninterrupted time and perfect space always revs the writing engine.
Thursday, April 08, 2010
Wednesday, April 07, 2010
shop for the cause!
Just discovered these stickers:
I LOVE it!
Plus a number of other cool items including shirts, jackets, more stickers, and a saddle pad with the anti-rollkur symbol on the corner.
SHOP HERE.
Stock up and go to your local spring shows!
I LOVE it!
Plus a number of other cool items including shirts, jackets, more stickers, and a saddle pad with the anti-rollkur symbol on the corner.
SHOP HERE.
Stock up and go to your local spring shows!
beet pulp meditation
I don't know how many of you feed beet pulp to your horses, but three of ours get it and the rinse/soak/rinse method we use to prepare the shreds for the meals is something of a ritual here.
Salina gets beet pulp 4x/day and Keil Bay and Cody get it 2x. I like the beet pulp to soak for hours but prefer not to make it all up at once because of the way we do it. I use Rubbermaid pitchers for ease of rinsing and so beet pulp making gets done after the last feed of the day (9 p.m.), after feeding breakfast (about 9:30 a.m.), and again after Salina's first lunch (1 p.m.).
Rinsing 'til the water runs clear takes a bit of time, so as you can see, this beet pulp making ritual is a regular part of every day on November Hill.
Suffice it to say that when one introduces a ritual to more than one person in a family, each one will adapt it to his/her own methods, even given some basic instructions that need to be followed.
In an effort to stop nagging and yet remain clear about what needs to happen with reference to the actual, physical rinsing of the shreds, I made an instruction sheet. But then I thought that if I shared some of my own inner routine with family members, they might come to see the ritual of the beet pulp as something more than just a heinous chore that never ends.
That in fact they might embrace it, and I might be able to give up my role of beet pulp monitor.
When I installed my effort on the laundry room wall, my husband saw it immediately and began to laugh. "You have to put this on your blog," he said.
I laughed too, because I knew he would, and I wanted there to be a certain amount of humor brought into the moment, but guess what?
I am also serious!
Using visualization and metaphor to transform the drudgery of daily tasks and chores into useful rituals is is a powerful tool in learning to be more present in the moment, reframing feelings of annoyance and dread, and turning tedium into magic.
I've taught these tools to clients for many years, and I use them myself pretty much all day, every day. Of course, when people get referred to you for your expertise, and pay for it, they tend to give it value. Around here, I'm more likely to get laughter and sometimes the rolling of eyes. Maybe I need to send a statement of account and see who gets the last laugh! :)
Salina gets beet pulp 4x/day and Keil Bay and Cody get it 2x. I like the beet pulp to soak for hours but prefer not to make it all up at once because of the way we do it. I use Rubbermaid pitchers for ease of rinsing and so beet pulp making gets done after the last feed of the day (9 p.m.), after feeding breakfast (about 9:30 a.m.), and again after Salina's first lunch (1 p.m.).
Rinsing 'til the water runs clear takes a bit of time, so as you can see, this beet pulp making ritual is a regular part of every day on November Hill.
Suffice it to say that when one introduces a ritual to more than one person in a family, each one will adapt it to his/her own methods, even given some basic instructions that need to be followed.
In an effort to stop nagging and yet remain clear about what needs to happen with reference to the actual, physical rinsing of the shreds, I made an instruction sheet. But then I thought that if I shared some of my own inner routine with family members, they might come to see the ritual of the beet pulp as something more than just a heinous chore that never ends.
That in fact they might embrace it, and I might be able to give up my role of beet pulp monitor.
When I installed my effort on the laundry room wall, my husband saw it immediately and began to laugh. "You have to put this on your blog," he said.
I laughed too, because I knew he would, and I wanted there to be a certain amount of humor brought into the moment, but guess what?
I am also serious!
Using visualization and metaphor to transform the drudgery of daily tasks and chores into useful rituals is is a powerful tool in learning to be more present in the moment, reframing feelings of annoyance and dread, and turning tedium into magic.
I've taught these tools to clients for many years, and I use them myself pretty much all day, every day. Of course, when people get referred to you for your expertise, and pay for it, they tend to give it value. Around here, I'm more likely to get laughter and sometimes the rolling of eyes. Maybe I need to send a statement of account and see who gets the last laugh! :)
Tuesday, April 06, 2010
the latest in hideous equipment for horses
Marian, a new commenter who just posted on the Lifestyle of Totilas post I wrote a few weeks ago, pointed me to this torture device called the Kick-Stop, produced and sold by a company called Quiet Stable (interesting choice of name, imo):
The kick plate measures 58 cm x 58 cm and is equipped with an aluminium band for hanging.
The plate is easily adapted to different needs; it can be cut in to smaller pieces with a small knife just as it can be made to cover a larger area by connecting the plates.
The kick plate is delivered with an energizer (power supply), an earth rod and cords - ready to be put up."Kick-Stop" is a unique product that has been patented.
The idea that we can lock animals in 12' x 12' boxes, put up bars so they can't stick their heads out, and install rubber plates that shock them if they kick the walls makes me ill.
Wouldn't it be simpler, more humane, and in all ways just a BETTER IDEA to allow horses to live as horses?
Or if a horse is a chronic stall kicker, look at the reasons BEHIND the kicking and alleviate them.
The kick plate measures 58 cm x 58 cm and is equipped with an aluminium band for hanging.
The plate is easily adapted to different needs; it can be cut in to smaller pieces with a small knife just as it can be made to cover a larger area by connecting the plates.
The kick plate is delivered with an energizer (power supply), an earth rod and cords - ready to be put up."Kick-Stop" is a unique product that has been patented.
The idea that we can lock animals in 12' x 12' boxes, put up bars so they can't stick their heads out, and install rubber plates that shock them if they kick the walls makes me ill.
Wouldn't it be simpler, more humane, and in all ways just a BETTER IDEA to allow horses to live as horses?
Or if a horse is a chronic stall kicker, look at the reasons BEHIND the kicking and alleviate them.
Saturday, April 03, 2010
in the flow
I've been thinking about why I chose this background photo for the blog, specifically wondering what it is about water and stone and movement that so captivates me.
On one level it's because the image nearly perfectly represents one of my favorite states of being. I've always called it "being in the flow." It used to be something I got mostly when writing fiction, but after I started riding horses again I realized: all my years of riding as a girl had been about finding that same flow.
Something magical happens when I write and when I ride. I no longer feel the limitations of my body, the stream of thoughts that normally fills my head disappears. It's the purest sense of being in the moment, being present and losing track of everything outside my characters or the horse I'm riding.
The thing about being in the flow is that once you find it, however you find it, it begins to seep into the rest of your life. Being in the flow in the bigger sense means things begin to fall into place without you trying very hard or even at all to make them happen. Synchronicity reveals itself. Suddenly you encounter things that have special meaning to you. You think of an old friend and she calls. You write a chapter about crows and when you look out your window there they are.
Suddenly everything seems connected and moving through the day seems effortless.
I'm not always in the flow. But when I made a commitment to write the first novel, and then the second one, and then the third one, and when I made the late-night decision to do a search for my dream horse, and found him, I also made the decision to open my life to being in the flow on a regular basis. At some point it overruns the boundaries of writing and riding and more often than not, there you are.
Living with our horses makes it easy to find the flow when things get a little crazy. It's sometimes easier to walk out to the barn than it is to open the Word file with the current novel in progress. Often enough walking out to the barn gets me in the flow and riding nearly always pushes the novel writing into higher gear. I didn't set out to create this pattern, but when I happened to find it, I recognized its value and I try not to forget it.
The way to finding the flow is through doing things you love that put you in a heightened state of being at least some of the time, regularly.
The other thing about the photograph of water and stone that speaks deeply to me: the symbols of the elements themselves. Water is my element. When I get stressed, a bath or shower helps. I love creeks and rivers and lakes and oceans. Waterfalls and the sound of a slow rain. My calming meditation is a rough, turbulent ocean calming to perfect stillness. Water can be deep and still, it can move.
And then there's stone. I've always loved the mountains. Stone formations. The sense of groundedness they bring. I often imagine energy flowing down through my forehead, through my body, into the earth below. Lying on a big piece of stone, particularly one warmed by the sun, is a sure way to settle myself.
Water flowing over stone is a powerful combination.
Water. The flow. Grounding.
On one level it's because the image nearly perfectly represents one of my favorite states of being. I've always called it "being in the flow." It used to be something I got mostly when writing fiction, but after I started riding horses again I realized: all my years of riding as a girl had been about finding that same flow.
Something magical happens when I write and when I ride. I no longer feel the limitations of my body, the stream of thoughts that normally fills my head disappears. It's the purest sense of being in the moment, being present and losing track of everything outside my characters or the horse I'm riding.
The thing about being in the flow is that once you find it, however you find it, it begins to seep into the rest of your life. Being in the flow in the bigger sense means things begin to fall into place without you trying very hard or even at all to make them happen. Synchronicity reveals itself. Suddenly you encounter things that have special meaning to you. You think of an old friend and she calls. You write a chapter about crows and when you look out your window there they are.
Suddenly everything seems connected and moving through the day seems effortless.
I'm not always in the flow. But when I made a commitment to write the first novel, and then the second one, and then the third one, and when I made the late-night decision to do a search for my dream horse, and found him, I also made the decision to open my life to being in the flow on a regular basis. At some point it overruns the boundaries of writing and riding and more often than not, there you are.
Living with our horses makes it easy to find the flow when things get a little crazy. It's sometimes easier to walk out to the barn than it is to open the Word file with the current novel in progress. Often enough walking out to the barn gets me in the flow and riding nearly always pushes the novel writing into higher gear. I didn't set out to create this pattern, but when I happened to find it, I recognized its value and I try not to forget it.
The way to finding the flow is through doing things you love that put you in a heightened state of being at least some of the time, regularly.
The other thing about the photograph of water and stone that speaks deeply to me: the symbols of the elements themselves. Water is my element. When I get stressed, a bath or shower helps. I love creeks and rivers and lakes and oceans. Waterfalls and the sound of a slow rain. My calming meditation is a rough, turbulent ocean calming to perfect stillness. Water can be deep and still, it can move.
And then there's stone. I've always loved the mountains. Stone formations. The sense of groundedness they bring. I often imagine energy flowing down through my forehead, through my body, into the earth below. Lying on a big piece of stone, particularly one warmed by the sun, is a sure way to settle myself.
Water flowing over stone is a powerful combination.
Water. The flow. Grounding.
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