"what a beautiful wreck I make...."

It's been a while since my last post so I guess I'm due. I titled this post after a song I heard by Shawn Mullens; it has the same rhythmic chorus: "what a beautiful wreck you are...what a beautiful, what a beautiful, what a beautiful wreck you are..." I relate all too well lately. People say I look great; but I feel like a wreck. Must be the rain, the humidity, the final days of summer slamming to their inevitable end. That means my buddies' will put their bikes away and autumn will trickle down around us and then the frosty winter. I love autumn and snow, no doubt. I feel much more functional and more alive. 0ddly enough, as my ability and mobility expand in the cooler air. I can hike, snowshoe, skid fire wood, do a little "groomed blue" skiing. But no velvety leathers, no chrome over the roads, no bearded gentleman cruiser up front to hold on to and revel in the scenery. My subtle grieving for the faded glory of a gentile adventure with fine friends who shared their summer with oddly-abled me. I've always been a thinker and doer in life; this was the first summer I was a spectator. A passenger enjoying a prime seat without worries or weighty thoughts. Now a taste of reality; more importantly, reality defined by a brain injury. I've got a full barn of horses, 6 too many really. I have to put 3 down. Euthanize and bury them here. One is too old for another winter in VT at 30 years. Another is 12 years old but in chronic pain from injuries induced by excessive racing. A third is too mean spirited to be rehabbed and placed with a family. It's time to let them go, bid them farewell and good wishes for the next life. Time to set them free of their earthly bonds. It's never easy to do. Even with a skilled veterinarian inducing their peaceful deaths; it's hard to take a life. With their passing, I will have assisted in 21 mercy killings; euthanasia ~ the "good death" here at this farm. Maybe that is why I have been in a blue funk these past weeks. So many difficult tasks to do. Fences to fix for winter, money to raise for overpriced hay, stalls to repair, and the usual winterizing list for this weary old farm. This year it feels like more than I can get done... at day's end. I am aware that in the mornings, I begin each day buoyant and ready to tackle the to-do list. By 2pm I am bone tired if I can't grab a rest, by 4 pm I am exhausted, tearful, aching for sleep. Waves of angst will roil around me and I have to stop and remember to sit down with a cup of tea and my homoeopathic (arsenicum 30x is awesome at diffusing the stress and restoring equilibrium) and my jazz legends on the player. A little peace, a little rest, and the the expectation that tomorrow will be better. I know I need fewer horses, a lot fewer, I know I need steady work, I know I need reliable help with my home and kids. But all are easier said than done... ask any single mom. Building capacity is something I should add to my resume. Asking for help is rolling off my tongue, only a little more easily, as I work the problem and move my feet. I look out across the road at the happy brown horses, no worse for the wear as yet, and I smile. It has always been a difficult horse farm. It will make an awesome berry farm. I remind myself to stay focused on that light at the end of this year's tunnel; and to get to bed early and have good dreams tonight. As one of my biker chauffeurs often says: "hang in there... it'll get better sooner than you think..." I'm ever hopeful of that; another sip of tea soothes the way....
luv and peace ~ ell

this post is for the memories of summer, good friends in leather, awesome brown horses, and my devotion to the effort...

The wonder of horses...

If you know me, you know that I have a horse farm. If you don't know me, a little background may help you get a better picture. Its not an average horse farm, but rather a typical hill farm with an exceptional purpose. It does not have fancy barns or a comfortable lounge (coming soon in 2010). We sit on bales of hay and pee in a clean horse stall. This is a horse rescue farm specializing in assisting former harness racing horses. Awesome brown horses who have been lucky enough to come here instead of auction or slaughter. For twenty years, I've built my base of knowledge, a posse of volunteers and a community of learners to help with this comprehensive task. It has been the most rewarding and joy-filled experience I have ever known with horses. Through the years, we were becoming well known in racing; assisting dozens of horses every year and my group of horse loving volunteers needed help. I reached out to the differently-abled community and they delivered whole heartily. This turned a page for me and evoked a whole new professional path for my equinery skills. I now aspire to evolve my odd little farm into a therapeutic learning center. Several years ago I embarked on a masters degree in this field of horse-assisted therapies; I certified in my preferred professional organization, EAGALA, I drafted a program the Learn'ed Horse Project and offered it to the public. These days, I am enjoying the participation of a teenage student who is passionate about horses, beautiful, articulate, differently-abled. Working with Felicia is an endearing experience. It has rekindled my joy of horses and my faith in sharing that which I love. Though HOURSE in VT is paid for this service, it has become a restorative opportunity for me. It is one of my better talents to mentor a novice with horses and a very satiating endeavor for me. At our farm, we are horse-centered in how we offer horsemanship. Always infusing the empathy for the horse's situation, seeking in ourselves, what is our responsibility in supporting him in successfully working with us, how do we ensure his desire to be with us.... In this expectation, a little piece of magic happens. In this process of observing, evaluating, assessing, asking and listening of the horse, the student becomes entwined with the horse's perspective and perception; what it's like to be this horse as we ask for his co-operation. What a therapist would call an "empathetic moment". I call it becoming a better human. Twenty years ago, as a professional horseman embarking on this horse rescue adventure (sometimes mis-adventures), I never imagined that it would be a horse that made us better persons, a kinder partner in a relationship, a more forgiving friend, a more gentle member of a community... like a midwife for personal discovery, I am blessed to witness this "birth of humanity" with every student who comes to this farm, my farm. I hope when these people are older, wiser and set in their lives, they will look back and remember the glow in my smile as I stood at the back of the "session" and silently lauded their discovery, I hope in their recollections, they will then know the gift they brought to me. This is INFINITY FARM live~learn~grow, come visit some time, bring carrots.
luv and peace ~ el

this is for the awesome brown horses and all they have taught me and continue to offer me...

God Humbled me today

Some days are a perfect execution of contradictions...
We've had a stretch of fine weather as of late and I was looking forward to some scenic rides up in the north country, maybe Canada, NH and home with a good motorcycle buddy. We started out in great fashion, (I make it a point to look good on the back of his bike, silk scarf and all...He looks pretty good too). We got about two hours into some stunning country, stopped for a good lunch, stretched our legs, mapped out our adventure and then mounted up to continue. I was thrilled to be there basking in the sun in the very good company of a gentleman on his chromed out Harley. So very blissed-out, living a dream, feeling blessed in this shared experience over the road, cruising far and away from my intense life... "this is living...what could be better..." was all I could think about. Then in the course of ten minutes or so, I got an abrupt lesson in what a brain injury can do to ruin a perfect day. I became so violently ill I was desperate for him to stop. "Where?!" he replied; "anywhere safe", I pleaded. He pulled off in a door yard and shut down while I tried not to hurl all over his back. We were in the middle of nowhere; miles from any town, any store, any support. And of course, our cell phones had no service. In seconds I was awash with every bodily fluid my body could purge. Horribly ill, nowhere to go but to crawl behind a truck barn beside the road and get sicker. Concerned and confused, he asked if I was alright... head for the trees..."that's the plan...", was my weak reply. I was a mess, in every way. I can remember trying to discern what was happening medically, hoping that I had not burst my appendix and, oddly, that my leathers would clean up alright and I could some how clean up when there was no water to be found, just some sand. When I could finally take a breath without gagging, the view was pristine across the valley. I propped myself against the back of the barn and just stared out there, thinking: "life isn't fair...the sky is blue, water is wet and life isn't fair...", feeling a lot more vulnerable than I ever care to be. A group of bikes chose to pull off right there where our bike was. I heard them talking but don't remember what they said. My partner came around the corner to see me squatting and cussing. He sat low beside me and just listened as I mused,"I don't know what will kill me first, this brain injury or the meds they have me on...." He looked over and smiled, still quiet. "I'm so sorry. I guess our plans have been decided for us..." was my lame attempt at conversation. I wanted to just roll over and melt into the earth. Not only do I feel like crap (I now know what that means, literally), but I just outed my broken brain, exposed the random treachery it can impose and quite likely ended a wonderful friendship with a kind man...life isn't fair. I would have preferred dying to killing this friendship. And we had minimum of two hours riding to get me home. Swell. I felt utterly beaten, by a silent syndrome that rears its ugly dysfunction at the worse moments and I have precious little control over it. I couldn't even look at him. But he could look at me; he put his hand out, helped me up and spoke music to my ears, "come on, let's go". With that we walked to his chromed out ride while some happy bikers greeted us: "nice day for a ride, ain't it!" "Yes it is" affirmed my partner; he mounted up and I swung my leg over behind him. Feeling thoroughly helpless, I buried my face in his shoulder and held on tight all the way home. All I could think was God bless him and God help me. This was a lesson in how fragile the balance of medications can be in treating my injured brain. A seemingly minor addition of an antibiotic for a sinus infection tipped my physiology from balanced and happy to system wide chaos which spoiled a potentially perfect day. When I finally got home, I cleaned myself up, restored my leathers and lay back in my empty house exhausted and defeated. My mortal embarrassment easing away, I was struggling to make sense of such a disaster; what was the purpose in this? If everything happens for a reason and God has a plan, why would this be His lesson for me? Have I taken life's true worth for granted? In the evening silence, the reflection gently emerged. God showed me how majestic He could craft a day...how genuine He could create a friend...how fragile He could build a mind...how mortal He could make any person, including me...that His will is greater than mine...God humbled me today; I hope I never forget...I hope He allows that I ride again with this remarkable friend...
luv and peace ~ el

this post is in honor of a real friend and finding some good in all of the bad...