…she decided to find out what it would be like to be kicked by a horse.
I am not one of those people who think of life as a linear collection of random incidents, most of which fall along a continuum ranging between miserable and disastrous. I’m sure that the ability to label unfortunate events with the aphorism “Things happen” can be a useful skill in helping one to move on, and it’s sometimes one I adopt temporarily, but mostly I choose to make the attempt to perceive patterns and meanings in the stories that make up my life.
I know people who think I’m foolish or mistaken in taking this approach. They question, in particular, how I can believe things without any proof, things that, in their eyes, are simply not true. I, in turn, often wonder how on earth they survive in their chaotic world and frequently admire their tenacity in continuing to make progress through the jumble. For me, there are always multiple perceptions available to us in how we interact with the world and I – as my affirmation for the week says – must speak the truth of my own heart.
For example, I am sitting at my kitchen table, writing in one of my notebooks with my favourite blue pen. (I always write everything by hand first.) My world is currently in my head, as I dream up each new sentence and test out the words that have appeared on my page. So the persistent, interruptive barking being dished out at my heels is a serious intrusion into my concentration. For Ro, however, the round, yellow, squeaky object which she has hidden under my chair, is inexplicably not moving and the woman sitting in the chair, who is responsible for making it move, is even more inexplicably, taking no notice.
See, different perspectives of the same world. We have each loaded the situation with our own understanding and priorities. And it’s this that gives our individual worlds, meaning.
Since writing last week, my life has changed dramatically. No longer a free agent, at least in terms of walking about or leaving the house, I have spent a strange and very uncomfortable week, watching my leg change shape, colours and size, each day. A mid-week trip to A&E, after my foot (not included in the original incident) turned a spectacular shade of indigo and doubled in size, declared no major injuries but I was given very specific instructions not to walk about for a while.
Consequently, one of the few activities I have been able to engage in as much as I’ve wanted, is sitting and writing – or sitting and typing (provided I get up at regular intervals to keep the circulation flowing). As I’m not allowed to do dog-walking, gardening, working on the allotment, spinning (as in using my spinning wheel), weaving or generally going out, I’ve done an enormous amount of editing, new writing and learning about KDP (Kindle Direct Publishing) and publishing on CreateSpace.
Ever one to add new layers of meaning to my existence, I have also researched the shamanic perspective on horses. I love the shamanic way of understanding and being in the world. It has, at different times in my life, given me a real life-line to hang onto potential meaning when things appeared to be falling apart. The concept of power animals, in particular, is one I readily identify with. So opening up my books and reading about Horse was, for me, a natural step to take (as opposed to the one I was forced to take by being back-kicked in both legs simultaneously and landing on my back).
Horse is about power, movement and freedom. Horse can appear in your life when it is time to move on, take a new direction or explore the freedom to do things differently. If you are being constricted – either by yourself or someone/something else – Horse may turn up with a message to get moving. My slowness to get things moving in the publishing direction because of all the other lovely things in my life – despite my declaration to make this happen – has, apparently, been noticed by the universe, and it seems if you don’t listen to the gentle nudges you’re offered, Horse may give you a kick up the butt!
As one of my friends would say – “There now”.