This is a view that I love. Moving into the landscape with Capprichio is a gift, a privilege, a deep pleasure. Being carried is delicious. Blending the rhythms of spines, hips and breath is one of the best dances that I know.
Sep2
Author Archives: Paula Josa-Jones
Sep1
The Dance: Nelson’s Tango
Today I was working with Nelson, the Mustang. My work with him is about helping him to get more comfortable with all the stuff around him, and more able to roll with new information, new challenges, like being able to have his feet trimmed, My relationship with Nelson is more than that, however. Over the months or working with him, I have come to love him, and to approach our dance with reverence and appreciation. I learn something new each time I am with him. For the past few weeks, I have noticed that the texture of my body – the way I feel my cells are aligned and humming has changed since I first started. It feels like I have been homogenized – my body is expressing one thing, instead of a million little messages. That makes things easier for Nelson. Today he felt nervous, usually a sign that someone else has been in working with him – he was discombobulated and edgy. I have learned not to react to any of that, just to stay in my basic, homogenized body and wait. At one point, he started his dance of moving one way and then turning and moving off the other direction – a prelude to running. Instead of trying to block him, I just blended my steps, so that I was matching him exactly, as if I were trying to learn his dance steps. I could immediately feel the shift in him – he looked at me as if I had done something very interesting and then walked over to me for a pet. Another lesson in horse dancing for me. Thank you Nelson.
SUBSCRIBE HERE to receive the Free Daily Post.
Comment on Google+
Aug31
Join Up
Swimming this morning, the clouds were soft, fine,diaphanous. My body in the water felt soft, fine, diaphanous – boneless, like the water, like the clouds and the sky. No separation. Monty Roberts calls the moment of connection between horse and human “join up.” I am looking for join up all the time, with everything. It’s like a sensual prayer, a bodily invocation. Like making an effortless wireless connection with the universe.
SUBSCRIBE HERE to receive the Free Daily Post.
Comment on Google+
Aug30
The Skin Horse
I love the way that this Buddha is becoming a part of everything. Lichens nesting on his shoulders, in his hair, grasses tickling his back, the weight of him settling into the bricks, little bits of detritus and moss and a heart stone from Lucy Vincent Beach in his lap. It reminds me of the story of the Skin Horse from The Velveteen Rabbit.
“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but really loves you, then you become Real.”
“Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.
“Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. “When you are Real, you don’t mind being hurt.”
“Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,” he asked, “or bit by bit?”
“It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse. “You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t often happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out, and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real, you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”
I feel like becoming real requires Buddha sitting – becoming a part of everything. Less doing, more being. Letting the body listen through pores, cells, breath.