Seeking purity

It is your turn now,
you waited, you were patient.
The time has come,
for us to polish you.
We will transform your inner pearl
into a house of fire.
You're a gold mine.
Did you know that,
hidden in the dirt of the earth?
It is your turn now,
to be placed in fire.
Let us cremate your impurities.

I sought a poem for Larynn, and this is not the one for which I looked. Yet it is a good poem by Rumi, and somehow it seems appropriate to both of us and to others.

The poem that was in my mind came perhaps rather from Omar Khayyam, leaving another volume to peruse with pleasure.

Today we rode, despite it being the day of the endurance ride or perhaps because of it. I don't want my ride to be over-busy, but I do like to show off my big roan stallion.

Doru, of course, was interested mainly in eating the cow-parsley. So what if pretty Arabians passed every few minutes? The hedgerows contained a merry meal for horses slow and horses greedy.

Doru told me that he wanted to enjoy these rides. So I let him graze awhile on a track where no endurance horses were travelling.

We are in that time of year when the foliage is lushest and best, when Doru stares at it most longingly. It's good to programme a grazing stop into the ride so that both he and I benefit from the excursion.

Besides, in this quiet and beautiful landscape, it is a pleasure to stop. The view is lovely and today the temperature was comfortable. Perhaps it was a little warm for some, but I appreciated a little heat and soaked up the welcome sun.

Then down the hill, through a village and off up a grassy lane. At the end I turned left, back towards the barn, perhaps an hour and a half away. There again I began to encounter the endurance riders.

It surprised me a little that the regular owners at the barn hadn't been told which trails would become busy highways for a day. It was clear enough once I got there, not just from the riders but from over-copious trail marking with red spray paint on trees (I hope that it is water soluble!) and fluorescent ribbons (which don't seem to be collected after the event) tied to boughs. But, hey, I enjoy showing off my horse.

I chose this trail because it is shady. On a warm day it is cool and inviting. The sun creates attractive patterns through the trees and shrubs. This is an atmospheric trail, and a narrow one too. So, in places, it was easier simply to speed up to the pace of the endurance ride rather than search for places where faster riders may pass.

This is the kind of place where Doru excels - rough ground where space is constrained, like the steep tight forests where he used to work. I can trust him over ruts and past angled trees, across holes and through narrow gaps.

Doru isn't as fast as, say, an Arabian or a Thoroughbred. But he can keep up their pace at endurance riding speed over half a mile or a mile without any difficulty, certainly on such a trail as this.

On a hilly trail, such as we used to traverse, Doru would have excelled. In the old days we might only ride twenty miles a day, but a total daily climb of five thousand feet was normal. That meant a lot of time going steeply up or down, where a powerful back end, good balance and plenty of common sense really count. By comparison this new land is easy.

Meanwhile we enjoyed the ride, with a fine mixture of open turf and intimate woodland path, hawthorn-fringed lane and trail across the wheat fields.

Then back at the barn curious things happened.

I knew that the manager had arranged for a group of student osteopaths to visit with their teacher. A variety of horses and ponies had been lined up for their attention, Doru included. Here he is alongside a Shetland just a fraction of his size.

The students split up into pairs and worked with a horse each. Two young women worked on Doru. For this I was glad, for female practitioners are more likely to choose the kind and thoughtful route rather than the male-dominated "heroic cure". (Of this we see much, whether from iron-hangers, bone-crackers, or so-called vets who still perform illegal firing on limbs.) In Doru they found a relaxed yet responsive patient.

They thought him a very aware and open horse, well compensated for his recovering limb, and receptive to cranial manipulation. Adjustments across his body left him better balanced and more level.

Adjustments to Doru also left me nearly crippled in my right hip, hobbling around though I had done nothing but hold him. Clearly this was more than the basic service. The teacher commented that osteopathy is about rebalancing energy - presumably a more esoteric viewpoint than is expressed to most clients. Yes, and now I am carrying part of his affliction. So, that was why I needed to receive healing massage yesterday - to be ready to carry a part of Doru's burden. Well, now I understand better the depth of that ailment. Now he and I are linked all the more deeply.

Comments

[Máire]

How interesting. I love your bond with Doru. The energy transfer is fascinating. I can understand it and I think it may happen more frequently than we realise.

[White Horse Pilgrim]

Maire: it surprises me sometimes how this bond is growing. If Doru and I simply charged around the countryside together then we would not develop in this way together. The energy transfer is like a communion with him, physically inexplicable yet intuitive once the mind is sufficiently open. This time it happened profoundly enough to stop me in my tracks.