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billie hinton’s camera-obscura:
life and lessons on November Hill Farm
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Sunday, September 18, 2011
the swimming pool dreams
Time for one of my infrequent dream blog posts!
Many years ago when I was nearing the end of a very intensive psychotherapy, I had a dream that I was in a swimming pool trying to swim. I couldn't do it. I kept going under. The emotional aura of the dream was vivid and real - I was truly in that pool, submerged in water that was deep and scary, and at some point I grabbed the side of the pool and refused to let go.
My therapist was also in the dream. He was sitting on the edge of the pool, talking to me about letting go, and that one could not swim without turning loose of that rounded, concrete edge, which was my safety net. I was gripping it with both hands.
I kept describing how I would go under if I turned loose. He got in the pool and showed me that he could stay afloat without holding on. He could dog paddle in place, or he could swim around to different parts of the pool. He pointed out that there was no way to learn to swim at all while holding on. That in order to swim, you had to let go. And in order to let go you had to trust.
Eventually I worked my way to revealing that I did not trust him to help me if I went under. I didn't trust myself to do what I needed to do to stay afloat.
The dream seemed timeless. We went on and on with this discussion. Finally, he convinced me he was trustworthy and that he believed I could do what I needed to if I would "let go."
The dream ended when I did let go, and he held me up for a moment as I found my arms and legs and began to swim.
It was an incredibly healing dream that represented in just one night's dream time what I had struggled with for several years. It was a turning point in my life, and was part of what pushed me to want to go to graduate school and become a therapist myself.
Over the years since that time I've had more swimming pool dreams. They always involve my unconscious processing something that relates to my psychological growth.
A few weeks ago I had a swimming pool dream that involved a trauma that happened a long, long time ago. It's been "resolved" in my mind for many years, but in this recent dream, a sort of final resolution happened - in a swimming pool.
Last night I had yet another swimming pool dream. In this one I was taking care of a little girl. She knew how to swim, and was bold and brave, but she still needed supervision in deep water. We were in a huge expanse of water that had been corralled in from a river, into a huge "swimming pool." The water was not clear - it was clean, but it was dark.
There were lanes, and there was a large open area. We chose to stay in the open area, outside the lanes where other adults were swimming vigorously back and forth.
The little girl immediately swam out in a straight line toward the middle of the water. I was behind her, swimming along but not helping - just being there in case she needed me.
At some point in the dream I wondered what would happen if I got tired, or had a muscle cramp. I started worrying about my ability to keep up with her. We got out of the pool and I went and got a pure white, very elegant and minimalist "skiff" - it was long like a kayak but it was nearly flat with a small curve - almost ethereal in substance. It floated/glimmered along beside us as we headed back to the water, and was there beside us as we swam again, just in case we needed it.
Later in the dream, I worried about one of us getting sick. As we swam back toward the edge, a priest walked up and offered me a microscope slide. It was square, and larger than the usual ones. He had prepared a purple flower on the slide, and said it would heal us if we ever needed it, and that if I wanted to study it more, I could use a microscope to see the smaller details.
I took the slide and put it somewhere safe for later, and we went back to swimming.
It seems fairly obvious that the little girl is me, and the woman is me, and I am processing the middle stage of life, looking back, looking forward, and finding resources for my Self. I love that the priest was benign in the dream - not affiliated with any one religion, not omnipresent. He came only when needed with a remedy, but also gave me the instructions to do my own further study.
It's difficult to describe the emotional ambiance of dreams in words, but this one was soft, and vivid, and very satisfying. The water was big and deep, fed by a rushing river, so it had the energy of the natural world but the relative safety of being stilled by the structure of the "pool."
There were other swimmers there, presumably processing their own life stages. In a way it was like being literally in the midst of the collective unconscious!
I confess I am fascinated by these watery dreams. If I had more hours in the day, and lived simultaneously in another dimension, I'd want to do research to study the kinds of dreams people have and how they process similar life events and stages.
Many years ago when I was nearing the end of a very intensive psychotherapy, I had a dream that I was in a swimming pool trying to swim. I couldn't do it. I kept going under. The emotional aura of the dream was vivid and real - I was truly in that pool, submerged in water that was deep and scary, and at some point I grabbed the side of the pool and refused to let go.
My therapist was also in the dream. He was sitting on the edge of the pool, talking to me about letting go, and that one could not swim without turning loose of that rounded, concrete edge, which was my safety net. I was gripping it with both hands.
I kept describing how I would go under if I turned loose. He got in the pool and showed me that he could stay afloat without holding on. He could dog paddle in place, or he could swim around to different parts of the pool. He pointed out that there was no way to learn to swim at all while holding on. That in order to swim, you had to let go. And in order to let go you had to trust.
Eventually I worked my way to revealing that I did not trust him to help me if I went under. I didn't trust myself to do what I needed to do to stay afloat.
The dream seemed timeless. We went on and on with this discussion. Finally, he convinced me he was trustworthy and that he believed I could do what I needed to if I would "let go."
The dream ended when I did let go, and he held me up for a moment as I found my arms and legs and began to swim.
It was an incredibly healing dream that represented in just one night's dream time what I had struggled with for several years. It was a turning point in my life, and was part of what pushed me to want to go to graduate school and become a therapist myself.
Over the years since that time I've had more swimming pool dreams. They always involve my unconscious processing something that relates to my psychological growth.
A few weeks ago I had a swimming pool dream that involved a trauma that happened a long, long time ago. It's been "resolved" in my mind for many years, but in this recent dream, a sort of final resolution happened - in a swimming pool.
Last night I had yet another swimming pool dream. In this one I was taking care of a little girl. She knew how to swim, and was bold and brave, but she still needed supervision in deep water. We were in a huge expanse of water that had been corralled in from a river, into a huge "swimming pool." The water was not clear - it was clean, but it was dark.
There were lanes, and there was a large open area. We chose to stay in the open area, outside the lanes where other adults were swimming vigorously back and forth.
The little girl immediately swam out in a straight line toward the middle of the water. I was behind her, swimming along but not helping - just being there in case she needed me.
At some point in the dream I wondered what would happen if I got tired, or had a muscle cramp. I started worrying about my ability to keep up with her. We got out of the pool and I went and got a pure white, very elegant and minimalist "skiff" - it was long like a kayak but it was nearly flat with a small curve - almost ethereal in substance. It floated/glimmered along beside us as we headed back to the water, and was there beside us as we swam again, just in case we needed it.
Later in the dream, I worried about one of us getting sick. As we swam back toward the edge, a priest walked up and offered me a microscope slide. It was square, and larger than the usual ones. He had prepared a purple flower on the slide, and said it would heal us if we ever needed it, and that if I wanted to study it more, I could use a microscope to see the smaller details.
I took the slide and put it somewhere safe for later, and we went back to swimming.
It seems fairly obvious that the little girl is me, and the woman is me, and I am processing the middle stage of life, looking back, looking forward, and finding resources for my Self. I love that the priest was benign in the dream - not affiliated with any one religion, not omnipresent. He came only when needed with a remedy, but also gave me the instructions to do my own further study.
It's difficult to describe the emotional ambiance of dreams in words, but this one was soft, and vivid, and very satisfying. The water was big and deep, fed by a rushing river, so it had the energy of the natural world but the relative safety of being stilled by the structure of the "pool."
There were other swimmers there, presumably processing their own life stages. In a way it was like being literally in the midst of the collective unconscious!
I confess I am fascinated by these watery dreams. If I had more hours in the day, and lived simultaneously in another dimension, I'd want to do research to study the kinds of dreams people have and how they process similar life events and stages.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Friday, September 16, 2011
lessons in riding, 9: the back-up ride
Monday afternoon sometime a big oak stall board got broken on the geldings' side, and then on Tuesday, Keil Bay kicked his stall door and broke the latch. He was fine just prior to kicking the stall door, but somehow in his annoyance with the pony (who I am sure was behind the stall board too) Keil must have pulled something. He had a visible limp for about 15 minutes and then began to move w/o limping but was walking with what I call "caution" for about 12 hours. Now he is walking normally but now and then has a funky step.
I've given him arnica (the day it happened) and now ruta grava, and I've been keeping him with Salina and the donkeys so he doesn't have to deal with the pony being such a persistent pain in the ... I guess in this case, leg.
Today Keil is moving with more of his usual saunter, so I think we're nearly back to normal. Today we are also having a wonderful prelude to autumn. It's 58 degrees and although cloudy, not rainy, so although I am sorry I couldn't tack up Keil Bay for a non-sweat ride, I'm happy there is a back-up. Cody.
I did a really long warm-up with Cody, using the entire arena, then doing serpentines, and changing directions frequently. He went from a short stride to a nice long stride, and once that happened I plugged in some leg yielding, shoulder-in, and a few small circles.
When he was really stretched and moving out, we did some trotting. The wind was gusting a bit today and the hay tent was flapping wildly at times, since I had opened the front flap to air it out before the new round bale goes in.
Cody was doing a little snorting but his desire to please generally overrides his fear so all he needed was a pat and a refocusing to get back to his task at hand.
We did a fair amount of trotting. Although I love Keil Bay's big trot with lots of suspension, I have come to enjoy Cody's trot too. It's a smaller trot, but if he's warmed up well and encouraged it's possible to build up his trot and engage his power mode. The difference is he is very much more sensitive than Keil and he is much easier to steer since he is not quite so big.
We had a nice ride. I am not fond of the dressage saddle I have for Cody and realized I should put my sheepskin seat saver on it - that will help! It felt good to be in the saddle. It's also good when the back-up ride is different, but equally wonderful, as the "main" one.
This afternoon the donkeys and the pony are in the front field while Keil Bay, Salina, and Cody graze the front yard. It's nice to see them out with no worries about flies or the heat.
I've given him arnica (the day it happened) and now ruta grava, and I've been keeping him with Salina and the donkeys so he doesn't have to deal with the pony being such a persistent pain in the ... I guess in this case, leg.
Today Keil is moving with more of his usual saunter, so I think we're nearly back to normal. Today we are also having a wonderful prelude to autumn. It's 58 degrees and although cloudy, not rainy, so although I am sorry I couldn't tack up Keil Bay for a non-sweat ride, I'm happy there is a back-up. Cody.
I did a really long warm-up with Cody, using the entire arena, then doing serpentines, and changing directions frequently. He went from a short stride to a nice long stride, and once that happened I plugged in some leg yielding, shoulder-in, and a few small circles.
When he was really stretched and moving out, we did some trotting. The wind was gusting a bit today and the hay tent was flapping wildly at times, since I had opened the front flap to air it out before the new round bale goes in.
Cody was doing a little snorting but his desire to please generally overrides his fear so all he needed was a pat and a refocusing to get back to his task at hand.
We did a fair amount of trotting. Although I love Keil Bay's big trot with lots of suspension, I have come to enjoy Cody's trot too. It's a smaller trot, but if he's warmed up well and encouraged it's possible to build up his trot and engage his power mode. The difference is he is very much more sensitive than Keil and he is much easier to steer since he is not quite so big.
We had a nice ride. I am not fond of the dressage saddle I have for Cody and realized I should put my sheepskin seat saver on it - that will help! It felt good to be in the saddle. It's also good when the back-up ride is different, but equally wonderful, as the "main" one.
This afternoon the donkeys and the pony are in the front field while Keil Bay, Salina, and Cody graze the front yard. It's nice to see them out with no worries about flies or the heat.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
trim notes september 2011
Today my son and I had trim lessons. We learned how to balance the heels, how to assess the sole, white line, and wall, how to address flaring, and we actually did the 3-week touching up on both the pony and Keil Bay.
The pony was not exactly thrilled that we were rasping and trimming his hooves. He was a handful for the front feet, rearing (a very controlled rear, more like a levade in hand than anything else) several times. I have no idea where this behavior came from, but it finally occurred to me he needed some in-hand work to get him focused and he was perfectly, and I do mean perfectly, behaved on the lead line as we took a few turns around the barnyard, walking, trotting, backing, halting, yielding, etc. Interestingly enough, after that bit of work, the hind feet were very easy and he was very well-behaved.
Keil Bay was his usual self. He took his hoof away a few times, bobbed his head a little, searched everyone for horse cookies, and fell asleep.
We stopped at two because that's honestly all I could do, even taking turns with my son. Our teacher/trimmer did lots of sketches for us along the way, and answered questions with terrific examples and explanations. We're fortunate to have not only a good trimmer but a wonderful teacher who is glad we want to learn and is happy to get down on the dusty barn aisle floor and guide us through the process.
I have some rasp marks on my left hand. I'm not sure what I did that made these, but they're like hash marks that barely break the skin. I wore gloves! I also must have held the rasp under my arm at one point and whipped it out too quickly - there's a 3-inch swath of rasp markings on the inside of my right bicep.
We'll do Cody on Friday and at least one donkey, and will probably leave Salina to her regular 6-week trims for now. With her arthritis she doesn't need us fiddling with her hooves - maybe when we get better at it.
It takes some strength, but more than that it takes dexterity with the tools. My son is much much better than I am already, since he has used rasps before in his woodworking and seems less nervous about making mistakes. He's careful, and very focused, but more willing to try what he's been shown.
This evening the pony gave a riding lesson and was the king of good ponies. I was surprised at his anxiety earlier in the day when putting his very healthy hooves into our novice hands. Although on some level I don't blame him at all!
I'm looking forward to the day when I can do this with even a modicum of confidence. But until then I'm excited to be learning more about the hooves and trying a new set of skills.
The pony was not exactly thrilled that we were rasping and trimming his hooves. He was a handful for the front feet, rearing (a very controlled rear, more like a levade in hand than anything else) several times. I have no idea where this behavior came from, but it finally occurred to me he needed some in-hand work to get him focused and he was perfectly, and I do mean perfectly, behaved on the lead line as we took a few turns around the barnyard, walking, trotting, backing, halting, yielding, etc. Interestingly enough, after that bit of work, the hind feet were very easy and he was very well-behaved.
Keil Bay was his usual self. He took his hoof away a few times, bobbed his head a little, searched everyone for horse cookies, and fell asleep.
We stopped at two because that's honestly all I could do, even taking turns with my son. Our teacher/trimmer did lots of sketches for us along the way, and answered questions with terrific examples and explanations. We're fortunate to have not only a good trimmer but a wonderful teacher who is glad we want to learn and is happy to get down on the dusty barn aisle floor and guide us through the process.
I have some rasp marks on my left hand. I'm not sure what I did that made these, but they're like hash marks that barely break the skin. I wore gloves! I also must have held the rasp under my arm at one point and whipped it out too quickly - there's a 3-inch swath of rasp markings on the inside of my right bicep.
We'll do Cody on Friday and at least one donkey, and will probably leave Salina to her regular 6-week trims for now. With her arthritis she doesn't need us fiddling with her hooves - maybe when we get better at it.
It takes some strength, but more than that it takes dexterity with the tools. My son is much much better than I am already, since he has used rasps before in his woodworking and seems less nervous about making mistakes. He's careful, and very focused, but more willing to try what he's been shown.
This evening the pony gave a riding lesson and was the king of good ponies. I was surprised at his anxiety earlier in the day when putting his very healthy hooves into our novice hands. Although on some level I don't blame him at all!
I'm looking forward to the day when I can do this with even a modicum of confidence. But until then I'm excited to be learning more about the hooves and trying a new set of skills.
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