(please note – The Compassionate Equestrian blog is written exclusively by TCE coauthor Susan Gordon unless otherwise noted. Dr. Schoen’s personal blog and website may be found at http://www.drschoen.com)
Sometimes the best relationships of our lives appear when we stop looking for them. Perhaps circumstances have occurred that hardened our hearts, shattered our confidence, and made us turn away from the things that bring us the most joy.
As fragile as we are, it often doesn’t take much of a spark to reignite feelings of loving-kindness and compassion in our hearts. We may have given up on ourselves, yet long for a chance to come alive again. When “it” manifests, we are ready. If we open our hearts to receive compassion—as much as we are willing to give—the exchange of energy is multiplied and embraces others in waves of happy interactions.
With mindful awareness, if we notice our reactions, we can learn to view them with clarity and perhaps create positive changes in the way we go about our daily lives. Sometimes there is a catalyst, such as a person, or a horse, who helps with that awareness, and gives us the opportunity to say, “thank you” for bringing this to my attention.
As Pema Chödrön* writes, “Until we can see our reactions, we can never know what causes us to stay stuck and what will help us get free.”
In the sweet poem written below, freedom came in the form of an unexpected meeting in the auction pen:
“One Chance in a Million”
It happened so sudden, 12 years in my past,
For the rest of my life the injury would last.
The cars hit head-on, not a chance to slow down,
The next I remember, I lay on the ground.
My hip joint was crushed beyond all repair.
“You’re too young to replace it,” Doc said with a stare,
“You will walk again, but never will run.”
These words hit me hard like a shot from a gun.
Ten years came and went, the pain more severe.
I said to my wife, “Time to replace it is here.”
When the surgery was over, Doc said to my wife,
“He can’t ride a horse for the rest of his life.”
We own our own farm with a full riding stable,
So horses and riding put food on our table.
I could sell horses and tack, and some money I’d make,
But to ride one myself was a risk I can’t take.
And then it did happen, one night at the sale,
As I stood selling halters inside of the rail.
My wife came up to me with that look in her eye.
She said, “There’s a horse out back ready to die.”
As I walked to the killer pen and looked over the fence,
There stood a starved gelding whose frame was immense.
His eyes were three inches sunk back in his head;
If he were lying down, you would have sworn he was dead.
He stood sixteen-one, weighed about four and a quarter,
His hair was three inches and not one-half shorter.
A skeleton with hide stood before my own eyes.
If he walked through the ring, it would be a surprise.
As the barn door slid open and they led him on in,
The auctioneer said, “Two hundred is where we’ll begin.”
The kill buyer said, “Two-oh-five’s all I’ll give.”
I said, “I’ll give two-ten just to see if he’ll live.”
The bids then quit coming, not a sound from the crowd,
The next word was “Sold” he said very loud.
As the trailer backed up to the wood loading gate,
I said, “Let’s get him home before it’s too late.”
He had to have help to step up to the floor,
But we got him in and then closed the door.
As I drove home that night, I looked back at a glance
And said, “If he lives, we’ll call him Last Chance.”
Well, we made the trip home, and he lived through the night.
When the vet came next morning, he said, “What a sight.”
We floated his teeth and trimmed all his feet,
Gave him wormer and thiamine and a little to eat.
My vet said his heart was as strong as a drum,
If we brought him along slowly the rest may just come.
Well, his weight starting coming and his health soon returned.
He showed us his love he must have thought that we earned.
He would whinny and nicker as I walked to the shed,
As if to say, “Thanks, ’cause of you, I’m not dead.”
He would stroll the whole place without being penned,
He’d come when I call, just like man’s best friend.
Three months had gone by since the night of the sale,
My wife had him tied on our old hitchin’ rail.
I asked her, ‘What’s up?” as I just came outside.
She said, “It’s time to see if he’ll ride.”
She threw on the blanket, saddle, bridle and said,
“The worst that could happen, I’ll get tossed on my head.”
As her seat hit the leather, he stood like a rock.
With a tap of her heels, he started to walk.
He reined to the left and he reined to the right,
The bit in his mouth he sure didn’t fight.
He did what she asked without second thought.
She cantered him on and not once he fought.
When she returned from the ride with a tear in her eye,
She said, “He’s the one, would you like to try?”
I thought to myself as I stood at his side,
If this giant’s that gentle, why not take a ride?
It had been a long time, but the look on his face,
Said, “Hop on, my good friend, let’s ride ’round this place.”
We rode round the yard, then out through the gate,
This giant and me, it must have been fate.
He gave me back part of my life that I lost,
Knew then I’d keep him, no matter what cost.
I’ve been offered two-thousand, and once even three,
But no money on earth would buy him from me.
You see, we share something special, this gelding and me,
A chance to start over, a chance to be free.
And when the day comes that his heart beats no more,
I’ll bury my friend just beyond my back door.
And over his grave I’ll post a big sign,
“Here lies Last Chance, a true friend of mine.” Dave Saunders
*The Pema Chödrön: Awakening the Heart wall calendar 2015 features quotes from Chödrön’s book Living Beautifully with Uncertainty and Change and is designed to help us cultivate compassion, courage, and awareness within the challenges of daily life. These insightful quotes are paired with beautifully evocative and meditative nature photography.
About the blogger:
Susan Gordon is 55 years old, and lives on Salt Spring Island, B.C., Canada. She turned professional as a rider in 1983, upon the invitation of Maclay champion (1971), the late Michael Patrick. Susan trained eventing, hunter, jumper and dressage horses, apprenticing with other top trainers in her chosen disciplines. She taught freelance from 2002 until retiring in 2010, bringing elements of meditation practice, music, dance, art, and an interest in non-invasive, holistic therapies to her work with students and their horses. She has since completed courses in sustainability (University of British Columbia and University of Guelph), and documentary filmmaking (Pull Focus Film School, Vancouver). She is a nationally ranked competitive masters and age-group runner in the 5K to ½ Marathon Road Race distances. The Compassionate Equestrian is her first book.