Velvet is the perfect horse. She’s beautiful and fast and strong. We’ve really enjoyed each other lately. We share persimmons I pick from the trees. We enjoy a fast run-walk down the streets and a slow canter in the sand. She holds her head high when I sit up straight and she drops her head low when I loosen the reins and relax. We’re really building a whole new level of non-verbal communication that is satisfying in a way that no amount of talking can achieve.
I thought that we, as people, had mastered language. I hear everyone talk about how brilliant we are compared to other animals because of our ability to communicate but I am not sure that’s true. I think we’ve lost contact with the core of most things because we’ve diluted them with details. Riding Velvet keeps me very aware of our interaction with each other and the environment in a very intent way. It doesn’t happen in any other part of my life. There are phones ringing and lights changing and kids crying and I’m totally lost in twelve different thoughts about how to relate to all these people calling and moving and needing.
What chaos. I need to find peace somewhere in all that noise. I feel lucky that I find it on the back of my horse. What a gift she is, what a gift life is to have peace and gratitude on a Monday morning along the Arroyo.