Author Archives: Paula Josa-Jones

beloved reader

I have a quandary.  I would like more of you to subscribe to my daily post.

I do not know if I should be less forthcoming.  Stop posting it to Google+ & Facebook, for example.  Become more elusive, reclusive and therefore more enticing?

Or just put it out there.  I would like your permission.

I find that the blogs I have chosen to receive in my inbox are precious.  Little delicious gifts at the door.  Special deliveries.  I have unsubscribed from all my spam, so that these gifts can shine more brightly.

I would like to gift you similarly.  I invite you to subscribe!

 

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making peace with the predator

My friend Michele told me a story about a lesson she took with the brilliant trainer Sarah Hollis.  Sarah was teaching her about working with horses on the ground (not riding).  Michele works at an equine rescue, and many of the horses that she handles have Issues & History.

Sarah noticed that Michele tended to slink toward the horse as she approached.  She was being a predator.  She had gotten into a habit of trying to be unobtrusive, but instead had adopted a variation on a wolf posture.

Today when I was working with Nelson, I ramped up the work a little and asked him a different question.  I removed the halter and said (in movement), “Can you move around me in a slow circle with no lead rope or halter?”  What I didn’t want was for him to spook or run. I wanted a thinking, feeling horse.  A horse that was calm enough to ask me (in movement) “Is this what you mean?” To start and stop with a subtle voice or hand signal.  Be able to repeat the movement, calmly.

That required me to ask with a “go” signal, not a “GO!” signal.  To be non-threatening in my arms, legs, spine, head, mind.  To be as thinking and feeling as I want him to be.

Nelson was perfect.  Nervous at first on the dark side, but then he totally got it.

One of my daughters is a little like Nelson.  She can smell a wolf-Mommy a mile away.  To connect with her, I have to stay open and show my hand.  No slinking or sneaking.

When and how do you feel your predator self?

a rave

Ashes and Snow by Gregory Colbert

I know that this has been out there for a while, but I want to share it nonetheless.  Ashes and Snow has added an explore feature to their enhanced video.  I wandered there for about twenty minutes Sunday evening.

Colbert  has choreographed and documented dances with whales, manatees, eagles, elephants, cheetahs and more, capturing the relationships between species in a way that is excruciatingly beautiful, tender, full of mystery. The stillness is profound.  It is what I am reaching for with my horse dancing.

If I could have a wish, it would be to have witnessed the creation of these dances.

If you could wish to witness something, what would that be?

to kvetch or not to kvetch

http://news.sciencemag.org/sciencenow/2010/03/scienceshot-translating-a-dogs-g.html

I made a decision sometime this past year.  No complaining.  No complaining even about complaining.

This decision came on the heels of my decision not to watch the news, and for the most part unplugging from unpleasant media.  No more excursions through the interstices of other peoples bodies on CSI.  No more luxuriating in a good kvetch.

I thought of writing about it:

  1. The Kvetcher’s Handbook
  2. Kverching A-Z
  3. Kvetching for Beginners
  4. Chicken Soup for Kvetchers
  5. A Rough Guide to Kvetching

There is something about the old habit of the whine that is hard to shake.  I would like to complain about a number of things:  fracking, horse slaughter, child trafficking.  I know that when the election heats up there will be a lot of complaining.

But I want to feel good, and complaining feels like it empties me out – darkens me at the cellular level.  So I don’t (as best I can).  When my friends start to complain, I find myself suddenly late for an appointment.  When I feel the pull of Whineland, I take myself somewhere else.  Look at the view, change my orientation, pet a cat.  Make a cup of dong ding.

How do you cope?