During the last few days in the UK with Jen, we stayed at a friend’s flat in Fernhurst, a beautiful village south of London. The place was crisscrossed with public footpaths, and we took turns going in different directions exploring the area.
I fell in love with these footpaths and how the English have preserved them; they are ley lines, energetic paths of connection that maintain a centuries old love of the land.
This particular day, the footpath took me to a farm with horses. One pasture had three horses; one pair of obvious friends and an odd man out. The three were wearing fly masks over their heads; see-thru skirts that cover their eyes to protect them from the many flies buzzing around.
I walked up to the fence, about twenty feet from where they were and put out my hand…
The pair came over first; while one sniffed my open palm, the other rested his chin on his buddy’s back. They were very comfortable and physical with each other. They turned side to side, facing in opposite directions, and when one would swish his tail, it would flick the flies off his friend’s face.
I wasn’t feeding them any grass and they moved off, content to nuzzle each other. I went over to the solo horse, his aloneness triggering loneliness in me.
He came over and smelt my hand. He was more cautious, and kept shying away. I quieted myself more deeply in response, and then he lifted his head over the fence and nuzzled me.
Something in me melted… in an instant we became old friends. I petted him, and the more comfortable I got, the more confident my hand moved; rubbing and scratching his ears, his head, his mane…
As I rubbed and scratched, love flowing freely between us, I wondered where the guidance and inspiration for my freely moving hand came from…
Touch is powerful, an intimate physical expression of connection and caring… touching this horse is the same as petting a cat, stroking our lover’s face, massaging a friend’s shoulders…
My hand glides across the horse, going here, scratching there… the subtleties of it’s movement is independent of ‘me’… Its motion exudes grace, is the embodiment of caring, an expression of love… I watch as some loving force guides this hand in a nurturing union with the horse…
Is the guidance for the movement of my hand coming from me, from ‘my’ intuition? Is the horse intuitively telling me where to rub? Exactly where does the inspiration of how to lovingly touch another come from?
(If you cannot see the video, click here)
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