August 16, 2011

A Dream Away

I shared in my last post that I had made a very difficult decision recently.  I decided to move back west for a year and regroup before making a graduate school decision.  While this decision has many implications for change in my life, it also took me far away from my zebra sister for a very long period of time.  I know and had to consider that my relationship with Holly is important in caring for her, because she is still so wild and we must keep her safe.  But I also know that it was time for a change for me;to take time to decide about my life, and that Holly would understand that.
I miss her.  I miss her everyday.  I miss the way she walks with such determination.  I miss the way she smells.  I miss her smiles when I find the right place to scratch.  I miss arriving places after visiting her and discovering that I am still covered in zebra hair.  I miss her kisses and I miss her lessons.  But I hold on to the belief that the next time I see Holly we will take a minute to come back together and we will fall back in step, zebra and girl.
But as I gaze out across the seemingly zebra-less landscape of my life at this point I am reminded of a dream I had when I first met Holly…
I was the new intern, and Holly was new to the herd.  In fact, she wasn’t even living with the horses yet-she was still on her own.  It was one of my first responsibilities to just sit with her.  To just keep her company and see if I could get her to connect with me.  At that time, I knew almost nothing about zebras and almost nothing about what the ranch did so it was really my first experience.
One afternoon, Holly’s owner and my boss, and I discussed dreams while sitting with Holly.  (I shared the theory we use about dreams in ‘Stealing Stripes’).  As I was departing for the day she asked me to pay attention to my dreams now that I was spending so much time at the ranch and with Holly.
Sure enough, a couple days later I had dream with Holly in it.  We were in a crowded store, a Christmas store to be exact- and I still have not be able to decipher the meaning behind that part.  I was sitting on the floor, and Holly was standing behind me, my shoulders pressed into her side and her head wrapped around to my chest.  The voices in the store were exclaiming that I was in danger, that this should not be happening.  You do not get ‘hugged’ by a zebra!  But in the dream I felt completely safe, even comfortable with Holly’s hug.  I didn’t know it at the time of the dream, but months later this would be a familiar position for Holly and me.  One we would adopt in quiet moments together and when we would keep each other company when groups were working with the horses.  It was as if the dream painted a picture of what was to come for the two of us. 
What does this dream have to do with missing Holly?  Mostly, it’s just a clear dream that I feel was definitely a message.  It reminds me of how far Holly and I have come together; even when people said that a zebra would never bond so well with people or horses.  It inspires me to wonder what the future holds, since I never expected to be hugged by a zebra.  And it reminds me that even when I feel far far away, Holly may only be a dream away.

Baby Holly's Smile

July 29, 2011

The Gate

I shared in ‘Someone New’ that the herd was welcoming a new member into the herd, and in ‘Someone New Part II’ I shared that it had been a difficult beginning for Silver Cloud to adjust to his new zebra herd mate.  Wondering and watching this exchange between zebra and horse brought up my own anxieties and questions about being a zebra-girl in the world; especially when it comes to forming new relationships.  The lessons from Holly around these issues are also difficult for me to clearly define, as I am well aware of the preconceptions and judgements I bring to any new encounter.  I also feel that it is important for me to work out for myself, so I keep pondering it.
I have to confess that these questions are a core issue for me.  I have spent countless hours sitting with Holly working my way through my own hesitance and fear around allowing people to get close to me and I know that I have on one or more occasion asked ‘why’ it has to be like this and ‘how’ do I change it.  The truth is, of course, that I don’t want to change it, I want to learn how to trust my instinct and keep my heart open to allow people to get close. This quote from ‘Someone New’ really sums up what I feel to be Holly’s advice:
If I were to ask Holly what she could teach me about this situation, I have a feeling she would look right at me, bat her eyelashes and say that those who don’t like my stripes are just not worth my time.  Her confidence in herself and her pride in her zebra-ness is evident.  She’s not worried about letting someone new in-she’ll decide moment by moment and trust her instinct.  She will value herself, and stay with those that she knows value her no matter how long it takes the new horse to see her as ‘Holly’ and not as a strange and frightening creature.
As I have watched this situation unfold for Holly and the herd I have seen her do exactly that.  She did not hold a grudge about the charging incident from Silver and she has not given up any part of herself to seem more horse-like. 
However, as her human caretakers it is often difficult to judge when the appropriate time to fully integrate the herd.  It is fairly obvious that Holly is probably ready, but is Silver? And what if Holly handles it differently then we are expecting? And finally, how do we keep them both safe?  Luckily for Holly and Silver and the rest of the herd, we have plenty of time to allow for them to work this out.  Which is why, almost two months after his arrival, Silver and Holly are still living separately.
That is, until Holly opened the dividing gate.
Holly’s owner had left for the feedstore, and is certain she closed and tied the gate behind her.  However, when she returned, she discovered that Holly, Silver, Thunderheart, and Spirit were all peacefully sharing the fan in the covered arena.  The space, that hours before had belonged specifically to Holly and Thunder.
Just like that, all our caution and discussion on the issue was thrown to the wind, and the herd solved the problem for themselves.  Of course, I am not certain who opened the gate.  However, Holly is known for playing with ropes and nudging at gates she would like opened so it seems fair to assume it was her plan and her accomplishment.
On it’s own, this is the happy ending to Silver meets Holly. They are now living peacefully in shared space and developing a more direct relationship.  However, for me this event took on a whole other meaning.
It seems to me, that this issue has been most prominent for Holly in recent weeks.  Her herd has changed and she’s been adjusting to that as well as taking it upon herself to work things out.  I have also been grappling with questions about my future and adjusting to the idea of making big changes.  And you see, while Holly was opening the gate, I was packing for a flight that evening to make the move back west.  I had decided to leave my beloved zebra sister and herd to take a new job and a year before graduate school.
When Holly opened that gate to a new phase for her herd, I was also opening my heart to a new phase in my own life.  While I was gathering the courage to say ‘goodbye’ to what I loved, Holly was gathering the courage to say ‘hello’.  While I was anxious that Holly would be on her own and not fully adjusted to her new herd, I felt she was saying, ‘It’s okay, we’ll be okay. I can do this and you can too.’  She took all her zebra-ness and trusted her instinct, the very thing I had been looking for as I struggled to make a decision about my plans.  On the same day, we took control of our own futures.  I answered my own questions about the future and Holly answered ours for her. 
(I am well aware of the looks I get when I tell people about my zebra sister.  But it’s moments and happenings like this that continue to make me believe that she and I are more connected than is easily understood in this world.)
What started as a lesson about letting someone new in, developed into a lesson about staying true to myself and opening the gate to my own future.  A lesson about confidence and bravery.  A teaching about being determined and patient in the face of fear.  All these traits that I have a feeling will be important as I move towards new relationships and new things.  And another powerful moment for Holly and I as we find our way through our lives. 

July 28, 2011

All Over My Heart

she must wonder where my stripes are.
i can see her behind her long eyelashes,
dark wide eyes;
reflecting an understanding i cannot grasp.

but the thunder crashes and we jump in our skins,
zebra and girl.
we're waiting out a storm;
her under a creaky roof
and i in my soul.

maybe she doesn't know the comfort i find in her presence.
but she must wonder where my stripes are.

here, little one, i whisper,
they're all over my heart.

July 21, 2011

Someone New Part II

Things did not start out so smoothly for newcomer Silver Cloud and Holly the zebra.
 Silver had a paddock to himself for the first week or so.  That way he would have a chance to settle in and recover from the trip without the stress of being integrated into the herd.  Unfortunately, he shared a fence with Holly and grandfather Thunder.  And almost immediately, Silver charged the strange smelling striped horse on the other side of the fence.
I have to admit, that this sent waves of panic and resentment through me.  Despite my resolution to trust Holly and the herd with the adjustment I was already concerned about the new addition to the herd, and he had in a way confirmed my fear that most horses are unable to accept something as strange as Holly.  I knew that every precaution was being taken to protect both Holly and Silver while introductions were made, but I was still concerned that Silver would never accept her. And more then that that it put her in danger.
As I shared in the first ‘Someone New’ blog, I have accepted into my reality an understanding that sometimes my ‘zebra-ness’ is unnerving and that I am cautious when approaching and meeting new people out of the fear of being rejected or attacked.  But I also shared what I believed Holly knew about the situation and my predictions about how she would handle it.
As I waited to see what effects the charge from Silver had had on Holly I was surprised, or maybe not so surprised, to see that Holly never seemed hurt or afraid.  In fact, Holly spent most of the next few days following Silver up and down the fence line.  Almost daring him to continue to be afraid of her.  What I saw Holly display was courage and confidence the face of Silver’s fear.  But I also saw her refusal to accept his fear as being real.  She was patient and understanding, but also determined to find the real Silver and to show him the real Holly.  I know that this is just the beginning of Holly and Silver’s relationship, just a part of the whole story.  
I also know that this is a deep lesson for me, and that I am far from understanding it completely.  I wonder how Holly’s lesson about confidence in the face of fear will be important to me?

July 20, 2011

Coming Back Together

My zebra sister and I are rarely spend more then a couple days apart.  I usually see her almost everyday and   never less than a couple times a week.  I try to schedule my time that way.  I do this partly out of habit, and partly because I hate not seeing her for long periodsof time.
Not long ago, I spent much longer away from Holly than usual.  I stopped by to see her on my way to the airport to let her know that I would be gone for a while, but not to worry.   (And to stay out of trouble.)
The day I returned, I was eager to stretch my legs and get fresh air after spending an extensive amount of time in airports and on airplanes.  I decided a walk at the ranch would be the perfect remedy.
While I had been gone; summer had finally arrived in Ohio.  The monotony of grey days and rain and mud had been replaced with sun and heat.  The spring buds that we had waited for so long for had exploded and everything was lush and rich with green and growth.
Whenever I’ve been away from the ranch I take my time in reacquainting myself and especially with Holly. I let her decide the timing of our reunion and it usually takes longer than I like.  But I understand that things are never exactly as I left them, and maybe in my time away I have changed as well.   I use the time to see everything with fresh eyes.
As I followed the path that skirts the woods and runs along the pasture fence I was surprised at how much had changed in my absence.  Winter had left wreckage strewn through the forest in the form of branches and fallen trees.  The familiar trails had been unusable in many places and the late arrival of spring and then summer had left the impression that maybe the forest would never recover; maybe the vision of the destruction would never be erased.  However, in the time I had been gone the forest had exploded.  The grass had grown up over the rails of the fence, almost hiding in.  The vegetation was so thick that the path was barely visible.  To the left the forest was so thick; it seemed like a wall of grass and trees.  The damage from winter was hidden by all the new growth. 
I was surprised when I heard a familiar tiptoeing through the grass next to me.  I looked over to see Holly was slowly walking the fence-line with me.  Her ears were flicking, and her tail was gently swishing but she didn’t seem to be asking anything of me, just walking.  I paused to admire how she too had changed physically; the brownish fuzzy winter coat she grows was shedding to reveal her black stripes again.  She paused too look at me too.  It was a familiar look, one I’d seen my own horse give me when I’d returned from long absences.  To me, it almost said, ‘Well yes, I know it’s you. But are you the same?’   I said out loud to her, just in case it would ease her mind. ‘Yes Holly, it’s me.’ And then we were walking again.  Side by side, separated by the fence.
As we walked, I wondered if I would have noticed all the changes if I had been here to see them.  Would I have noticed how beautiful the daisies were sprinkled through the field? Or would I have noticed the slow disappearance of the signs of winter?  What changes I had missed that I couldn’t see?
I was reminded of a client that worked with a member of Holly’s herd, Spirit.  Spirit is a small paint mare with clear opinions.  She can always be trusted to be clear about her own yes’s and no’s.  This particular client had worked patiently with his group to build a rapport with Spirit; eventually earning her approval and moving into a closer relationship. And then they went to lunch.  When they came back, they were surprised with Spirit greeting them with pinned ears and a nip.  ‘But she liked us before!’ they exclaimed as they worked to process this change in Spirit.  Finally one of the client’s spoke up; ‘We’ve been gone. Who knows what happened while we were inside. Maybe we just need to reintroduce ourselves and start over, letting her know we’re exactly the same and we want to include her.’  Sure enough, when the group stepped back Spirit softened and they were able to reacquaint themselves with her and finish their day.  As we were processing at the end of the day, the client again mentioned the importance of his lesson with Spirit. ‘I’ve been gone from home for almost 2 weeks. I bet my wife feels the same way Spirit does sometimes-you’ve been gone and things are different but you just charged in here like everything is the same. I bet she would like a minute to tell me about what happened while I was gone.’  I was struck by the clarity and application of this lesson.
When Holly and I reached the end of her fence she simply turned around and walked back to where her Grandfather horse was still grazing.  It might have not seemed like much, but those moments walking after the questioning look reconnected us.  We might not have needed words to explain to each other what had happened while we were apart, we simply needed the space to reintroduce ourselves.  We needed space to acknowledge everything that had happened but also to know that it hadn’t changed who we are to each other.  We spent time together, aware of change and respectfully coming back together again.

Stealing Stripes

One of the things I have learned recently is to tend more closely to my dreams.  (And I mean the night-time REM sleep kind of dreams.)  I have always been a frequent dreamer- dreams filled with life-like and real situations. But since they are often mundane and repetitive or sometimes unpleasant I’ve developed a habit of ignoring them.  
However, at the ranch, we work with a theory by Dr. Stephen Aizenstat regarding the idea that we should tend to our dreams with care and attention.  Esssentially, his theory believes that dreams are alive, and they are a way of receiving and interpreting information that our mind has for us.  (Or, if it fits for you, information or guidance from the universe.)  I happen to believe that our body and mind stores a lot of information that we don’t access or use and dreaming is a time that our brains tap into those multi dimensions. [For more information about Dream-Tending visit: http://www.dreamtending.com]  So, it is using this theory that I have been tending to a dream with Holly and I had recently. 
There was a large crowd of people spread out through a field, I felt familiar with the people, but they were no one in particular.  Holly and her grandfather horse, Thunderheart where the only equids in the field and they had been isolated there.  The group then ‘captured’ Thunder and were holding onto him.  At this point, I realized that they were trying to catch Holly too.  I had the feeling that this would be very bad, I tried yelling and calling to them to stop chasing her but to no avail.  Finally, I got close enough to her to call her over.  She came towards me quickly and then she said, clearly, that I had to take her stripes.  At first, dream me did not understand.  I was telling her she had to run away.  But she insisted and when I reached out towards her I discovered that her stripes could simply be unbuckled, like a traditional horse blanket.  As soon I pulled off her ‘stripes’ she turned and ran away and I was left holding this strange blanket of stripes. Then I woke up.
I’ve tried tending to this dream over several weeks trying to decipher the meaning.  I cannot really decide if it was a message from Holly, or from myself.  However, as I shared this dream with a friend as we walked through the pasture, Holly fell into step and walked with us.  When that happened, I couldn’t help but feel that it was a message from Holly, although it’s probably combination of both dimensions.
Mostly what comes up for me when I ponder this dream is the idea of protecting Holly. She needed me to carry her ‘stripes’ for her so that she could run to safety. The idea that she would trust me with something as defining as her stripes in a time of danger is a sign of trust, absolute trust.  But when I put myself in Holly’s ‘hooves’ the dream changes meaning.  What if I’m the one who is being chased?  What if I’m looking for someone to hold onto my stripes?  Is there someone trying to steal my stripes?  
I’m still very much processing and tending this dream.  But I can’t deny that it has stirred up some of that old mistrust in my heart.  I’m on the alert for anyone trying to steal any ‘stripes’-mine or Holly’s.

Someone New

There is a new herd member arriving soon. After losing the elder in the fall, it has been a process deciding whether or not to send the intention out for another member of the herd to join us.  However, the older of the horses are carry too much of the work for everyone and we needed a new, but steady addition to help with the client groups.
From his pictures and videos he seems to be a gentle and loving gelding with plenty of experience with people.  He’s a draft breed, so large but gentle in nature.  His eye is soft and kind and his demeanor calm.  It is with great excitement that all the human members of the herd await his arrival.  I, however, feel a twinge of anxiety when I consider how the baby; my beloved zebra will handle the arrival.
To the human eye, a zebra is very much a member of the horse family.  They have a similar build, four hooves, two ears and a tail.  But Zebras don’t really seem like a horse to a horse.  Their language is slightly different, and most importantly they smell differently.  It is extremely uncommon that a herd of horses will accept, adopt, and care for a zebra the way that Holly’s has.  Most horses would be uncertain and scared of her strangeness.
All the humans that are entrusted with caring for this herd are prepared to help introduce and socialize the new horse and keep everyone safe.  Holly’s owner is careful, knowledgeable and careful with her herd.  I have doubt that with patience, the new horse will soon be a respected member of the herd.  I know that Holly is careful and smart, I know that she can take care of herself and that the herd will watch out for her.  But still, I worry.
 As I watched her confidently tiptoe her way through the soggy field I realized that the fear I have has nothing to do with Holly and everything to do with me.  I’m the one who is afraid to let in someone new and then accept the ripple of change that that creates.
In my world, I often feel like a zebra among horses; I look the same, but I’m not.  My strangeness is enough to unnerve people who may not understand me and sometimes even enough to scare them into attacking from close or afar.  I have accepted it as a part of my reality.  I keep my distance until I can guarantee I will be safe if I move closer.  I still remember the sting of hurt from misunderstanding or dislike.  And I know now as I prepare to welcome a new member of the herd that the memories of those hurts is what makes me worry.
‘What if he doesn’t like ‘us’?’ And by us I mean the zebras, Holly and I.  What if he doesn’t like the way we talk, or the things we say? What if we can’t connect because he doesn’t understand our zebra-ness?  Aren’t those the questions I ask of someone new in my life everyday? Every social situation?  What if I move close, thinking it’s safe and you don’t like my stripes anymore?
If I were to ask Holly what she could teach me about this situation, I have a feeling she would look right at me, bat her eyelashes and say that those who don’t like my stripes are just not worth my time.  Her confidence in herself and her pride in her zebra-ness is evident.  She’s not worried about letting someone new in-she’ll decide moment by moment and trust her instinct.  She will value herself, and stay with those that she knows value her no matter how long it takes the new horse to see her as Holly and not as a strange and frightening creature.
Maybe the most important learning here is about the journey I’ve been on ever since synchronicity brought Holly and together: learning to love myself, and my stripes and to value myself as an individual and as a member of a larger herd.  This is just the next lesson in how to handle many of the changes and opportunities that life brings.  Really, it’s just another moment to learn to be more fully human from a zebra.  And as always, Holly’s timing is impeccable.
So, as I look forward I am prepared to acknowledge the worry and anxiousness I feel.  But I will also allow myself to be open-hearted and eager to meet a new herd member whether they be horse or human.  And I will trust that I am wonderful enough, I am special enough to love, even if my stripes are a little different.  But I will also understand that to truly connect with someone new, I have to be confident enough in myself to reach out with the intention of knowing them as well.  Just as I trust Holly will, in all her zebra-ness, when Silverheart arrives at the ranch.

Power Moves

I had an experience with a member of Holly’s herd and friend of mine during a weekend at the Ranch.  While I was processing some of the recent developments in my life, Holly was grazing peacefully. I guess you could argue that she was listening, but the way her ears flicker back and forth and how close she stayed I can’t help but feel that she was. 
My friend asked a question, and my answer was: “I wasn’t wanted. And I was fighting to be wanted. I’m always fighting to feel wanted.” And right at that moment, Raven charged right through the space in between Holly and I.  His ears were pinned, his teeth bared and it was clear he wanted me to move. And Raven is about 18 hands of youthful and powerful Friesan energy so I didn’t argue. Raven didn’t want me there.  And I moved.
See the metaphor?
And it was okay. Raven and I have a good relationship, and I don’t mind that right then he didn’t want me where I was. I respected him, but I also respected ME. I moved away and respected myself.  That was not the appropriate time to stand my ground. If I had tried to fight for staying where I was I would have probably ended up with a horse-teeth shaped bruise on my arm. Painful.  (Not to over-do the metaphors, but that’s a good illustration of what happened when I tried to fight to be wanted. Except it wasn’t just my arm that was bruised…)
And Raven, maybe unknowingly, gave me the reinforcement I needed to understand that sometimes it’s okay to move away when you’re not wanted somewhere. There are times that it’s okay to respect yourself enough to move away, even though not everyone will see it as a power move, I know that I made a move that respected myself.  I valued myself enough that when given a choice I kept myself safe and I didn’t give in and I didn’t give up any of who I was. That sounds like a power move to me.

Rain

It’s raining in Ohio. Really raining.  As wet and muddy as it is, it’s also beautiful.  It’s like the earth is rumbling back to life, you can almost feel it when you step outside.  
Winter and snow bring dark peace; soft and fluffy and still. The earth freezes; at the mercy of whatever the sky throws down. But the rain is different, the way it seeps into the ground and splashes. The way it starts to change the colors of things. The way it seems to always be in motion, moving and flowing.
Holly wanted none of the rain this morning.  She came to the doorway, peered out, and looked back at me.  ’Oh no,’ she seemed to say, ‘I’m not going out there.’ 
It only surprised me because for days she’s been opinionated and sassy. Darting from place to place, and refusing to be directed in any way. Wandering out to the trees at the edge of the pasture and racing home. She hasn’t even slowed down for a rub or a kiss.  I can’t help but think she knew that things are coming back to life. Her energy and her zest must have been that she too knows that things are thawing out. Then the rain came and sent her scurrying back to shelter.
I wonder, am I the same way? I know that things are shifting, but unlike Holly, the changes I’m waiting for are more then just the changing of seasons.  I feel like I’m on the edge of something, testing my freedom and my determination.  But a little uncertainty ushers me back to the stillness of winter.  However, I think maybe I’m mistaking Holly’s decision to stay inside today as a retreat. A retreat from the change, or from the uncomfortable feeling of being soaked by the rain.  
Holly and I share a spirit of independence.  Of that I am certain.  I find myself unwilling to follow any ideas but my own, I never deny my sense of freedom and neither does Holly.  I feel a need to pull my shoulders back and stand up straight in the face of anything threatening more than usual.  And just like Holly, I find myself jumping away from anything that moves too close.
But I think I’m missing the wisdom. Holly and I both understand that things are moving towards change, and we can react accordingly.   But unlike me, Holly is willing to wait. Wait for the rain to stop. Wait for the snow to come back. Wait for whatever might be next.  She’s not retreating, and she’s not uncertain.  She is calm in the face of change.  She is simply waiting. 
Wild as she is, I’m the one that is flighty.  I’m unsure about being sheltered, and I’m reluctant to be in the rain.  I’m frightened of the cold and stillness coming back and I’m eager for change and anxious to see what spring, when it comes, will bring.  I’m not peaceful, and I’m certainly not calm.
I think that the lesson for me lies in the waiting; the in between. Learning to be a peace with rumbling change, embracing it even, but being willing to sit with it when the path ahead is misty, uncertain, or just plain uncomfortable. And to be just like Holly, who is waiting until the sky clears to splash through the puddles.