partnership

Last week a new animal joined our menagerie of fuzzie-family on the farm: a horse. I was as surprised as you to hear about it as it all happened very fast. In any case: here Silky arrived and my what a power house she is! A wise and beautifully proud thoroughbred, she got the gist of me quickly and is very kind to me. She absolutely adores my husband.

If you have never been around horses: they are literally a different breed. For starters they are herd animals and very very observant of humans. Uncanningly so. To say that I would be in future teaching the horse anything is a misguided statement: I will do no such thing. The horse teaches the horse, and the horse teaches me. "Soft handling makes for soft horses". (It doesn't mean I can go and act like a pussy, it means I have to lead by example. How I treat her is how she will treat me.)

How can you follow and trust another being if you don't "get" what they're like? There's nothing like getting focused and clearer about yourself then working with animals and in my case, with a horse. They will tell you. They will mirror your gnawing doubts or your silly behaviour and especially your ignorance. They will take charge when you don't simply because they test you and when you doubt yourself they will know and run with their fancies. They can be cheeky buggers when given the opportunity. It really depends on how steadfast you are to what degree the horse trusts you and will follow you.

Rest assured I will not go into girly fluffy Odes to the Horses, that was not my intention. I'm fascinated by the horse, that she after 16 years is still happy and full of energy despite being taken off a meat truck and having been moved from place to place as a rescue horse. Thoroughbreds are race horses and that's generally what they do. Silky has numbers tattooed on her but I haven't delved into her history as yet. I wish to get to know her as she is now, her past is not relevant as such.

Did you know that horses mostly learn by release of pressure? They don't learn from pain, that's when they just shut it out and ignore it. They respond mostly to subtle changes and naturally respond big time to big changes in their environment. I find this fascinating. It means when interacting with them, that it's vital to "think like a horse" which goes through anticipating, sensing and behaving like a herd animal, and to be more precise: a prey animal, as we humans are the incessant predator types. So I have to be aware of how my behaviour affects the horse and how she will feel about it. All the time. It's quite different then say cattle, horses are more articulate in their responding to us.

I'm deliberately taking my time with Silky. She is still getting used to our place, the noises (doesn't seem to fond of tractors) and gets a bit possesive if Rosie the jersey cow gets more attention then she does. Also what's interesting is who is the "top-mare" (me in this case) and how we stand in each others personal space.

Animals are very much like humans. They have desires, they want to have a clean warm bed, good food and assurance there will be love and cuddles in a place of safety. To me it's important we develop our trust rapport and that she gets used to us doing things together like walking, grooming, foot work, putting things on her back, before I even put a saddle near her. I also have bought a saddle measure device to make sure a saddle is right for her and that back problems won't be an issue. Horse problems often get blamed on the horse whereas they can be as simple of using the wrong gear that hurts them, or having been let down the bad habits path by people who didn't realize what they were teaching.

Partnership, not so much leadership, requires patience and understanding. It also I find is a matter of mostly self responsibility. As a Danish horse whisperer puts it: the horse will want to follow you if you not only do things right but "be" right. It's a co-creation dance. Be aware, and appreciative, and many things will naturally develop, and all will flow from there. So I've started from the assumption and resolve that I feel right within myself, and trust myself, so that she can trust me and that way we can rely on each other in this parnership. Mainly we want to have tons of fun! I know she wants to trot and run too, but all in good time. In building friendship with a horse, going slow makes sure things go smoothly and ultimately: better.

love

Seeking something is giving that something

First and foremost

If you find it too hard to open up

try appreciating it

and from a speck it'll become a seed in the wind

it will start growing and

Blowing a gale

and coming back to you

Unfolding 

Dancing

Being

In you.

a cup of tea

I came across the following article today that I wanted to share with you. 

"SYDNEY – In those bleak moments when the lost souls stood atop the cliff, wondering whether to jump, the sound of the wind and the waves was broken by a soft voice. "Why don't you come and have a cup of tea?" the stranger would ask. And when they turned to him, his smile was often their salvation.

For almost 50 years, Don Ritchie has lived across the street from Australia's most notorious suicide spot, a rocky cliff at the entrance to Sydney Harbour called The Gap. And in that time, the man widely regarded as a guardian angel has shepherded countless people away from the edge. What some consider grim, Ritchie considers a gift. How wonderful, the former life insurance salesman says, to save so many. How wonderful to sell them life.

"You can't just sit there and watch them," says Ritchie, now 84, perched on his beloved green leather chair, from which he keeps a watchful eye on the cliff outside. "You gotta try and save them. It's pretty simple."

Since the 1800s, Australians have flocked to The Gap to end their lives, with little more than a 3-foot (1 meter) fence separating them from the edge. Local officials say about one person a week commits suicide there, and in January, the Woollahra Council applied for 2.1 million Australian dollars ($1.7 million) in federal funding to build a higher fence and overhaul security. In the meantime, Ritchie keeps up his voluntary watch. The council recently named Ritchie and Moya, his wife of 58 years, 2010's Citizens of the Year. He's saved 160 people, according to the official tally, but that's only an estimate. Ritchie doesn't keep count. He just knows he's watched far more walk away from the edge than go over it. (..)

Something about Ritchie exudes a feeling of calm. His voice has a soothing raspiness to it, and his pale blueeyes are gentle. (..) Some he speaks with are fighting medical problems, others suffering mental illness. Sometimes, the ones who jump leave behind reminders of themselves on the edge — notes, wallets, shoes. Ritchie once rushed over to help a man on crutches. By the time he arrived, the crutches were all that remained.

But he remains available to lend an ear, though he never tries to counsel, advise or pry. He just gives them a warm smile, asks if they'd like to talk and invites them back to his house for tea. Sometimes, they join him.

"I'm offering them an alternative, really," Ritchie says. "I always act in a friendly manner. I smile." (..)

By offering compassion, Ritchie helps those who are suicidal think beyond the terrible current moment, says psychiatrist Gordon Parker, executive director of the Black Dog Institute, a mood disorder research center that has supported the council's efforts to improve safety at The Gap.

"They often don't want to die, it's more that they want the pain to go away," Parker says. "So anyone that offers kindness or hope has the capacity to help a number of people." (..)

In 2006, the government recognized Ritchie's efforts with a Medal of the Order of Australia, among the nation's highest civilian honors. It hangs on his living room wall above a painting of a sunshine someone left in his mailbox. On it is a message calling Ritchie "an angel that walks amongst us."

He smiles bashfully. "It makes you — oh, I don't know," he says, looking away. "I feel happy about it."

But he speaks readily and fondly of one woman he saved, who came back to thank him. He spotted her sitting alone one day, her purse already beyond the fence. He invited her to his house to meet Moya and have tea. The couple listened to her problems and shared breakfast with her. Eventually, her mood improved and she drove home.

A couple of months later, she returned with a bottle of champagne. And about once a year, she visits or writes, assuring them she is happy and well. (..)

Despite all he has seen, he says he is not haunted by the ones who were lost. He cannot remember the first suicide he witnessed, and none have plagued his nightmares. He says he does his best with each person, and if he loses one, he accepts that there was nothing more he could have done. Nor have he and Moya ever felt burdened by the location of their home.

"I think, 'Isn't it wonderful that we live here and we can help people?'" Moya says, her husband nodding in agreement.

Their life has been a good one, they say. They raised three beautiful daughters and now have three grandchildren to adore. They have traveled the world, and their home is decorated with statues and masks from their journeys. Ritchie proudly points out a dried, shellacked piranha — a souvenir from their vacation to the Amazon, where he insisted on swimming with the creatures (to Moya's dismay).

Until about a year ago, the former Navy seaman enjoyed a busy social life, regularly lunching with friends. But battles with cancer and his advancing years have taken their toll, and now he spends most days at home with Moya, buried in a good book. His current read: the Dalai Lama's "The Art of Happiness."

Every now and then, he looks up from his books to scan the horizon for anyone who might need him. He'll keep doing so, he says, for as long as he's here.

And when he's not?

He chuckles softly.

"I imagine somebody else will come along and do what I've been doing."

He gazes through the glass door to the cliff outside. And his face is lit with a smile.

Text: By KRISTEN GELINEAU, Associated Press Writer, source: Yahoo News

After reading it I thought back to a young girl, she couldn't have been more then 16 years old who we met at a campsite once. We got talking about her life, and she later divulged that she had already made an attempt to kill herself using a gas oven. From the details and her demeanor we could tell this was not your teenage kid just wanting some attention. I just remember that Nico and I stayed very calm, let her speak and ask questions.

I think many of us forget the roles we can play in strangers lives. It doesn't hurt you to smile more often, but it can be painful for others if we don't. Here's to all the angels inside of us!