A Dialogue With the Universe

We are in constant dialogue with the universe. Maybe we don't realize it, but throughout every moment of our lives, we are giving and receiving messages. Mostly, our upbringing and manner of living in the modern world has had the effect of rendering us oblivious and indifferent to such dialogues. We are ignorantly rude to the world around us, being far more addicted to consumerism-saturated aspirations than liberated by our degrees of wealth and "easy" living.

People no longer tread over the bare earth. Their hands have drawn away from the grasses and flowers, they do not gaze up to the heavens, their ears are deaf to the songs of birds, their noses are rendered insensitive by exhaust fumes, and their tongues have forgotten the simple tastes of nature. All five senses have grown isolated from nature. --Masanobu Fukuoka

As we speed over the landscape in automobiles and plop in front of our televisions for long hours of mind-numbing escapism, what might the trees and grasses and birds and wind and rocks think of our manner of living?

I think they are affronted by our insolence. I think they are also amazingly forgiving of our ignorance...and I think they sing songs on our behalf, hoping one day we will hear their voices and come out of unexamined habitual behaviors, joining them in composing new songs.

Communication with the plant and animal people begins with the realization that we are not superior but equal to the plants and animals. In fact, we should begin to understand that in most cases we rank below them in our basic ability to survive. --Tom Brown, Jr.

I have caught myself reaching for the "fast forward" button on my life since my last entry here in the Journal of Ravenseyrie. It's the harshness of this year's winter that has served to prompt me to such disrespect of the present state of is-ness...(even as I type this another "winter storm" is in the forecast, with snow, high winds and deep-freeze temperatures beginning this evening and into tomorrow). But I have caught myself in the rude act of ridiculous resistance to what is, and I've retracted my desire to shut my eyes tight and wish for immediate spring. There would be much of value I would miss if I skipped parts of my life. I almost didn't realize to wish away the rest of winter was petulant and selfish...I hope the rocks and birds will forgive me for my weakness and complaints.

As Tom Brown, Jr. has noted, the plant and animal people are far superior in their survival capacities than I am. And I daresay they are never indifferent to the dialogue of the universe, rather, are always knowingly engaged in this magical, natural, essential two-way communication.

Once again, the semi-wild horse keeping environment here at Ravenseyrie has provided me with deeper meaning of our inter-connectedness. With the landscape once again under a covering of deep snow, Kevin and I have strapped back on the snowshoes for going about certain necessary tasks that take us away from the plowed or trod-and-packed areas. As is my habit during such times, I take the pups out for their daily walks, but instead of walking, I put on my cross-country skis, and together we follow the horse trails in search of fresh air, exercise and whatever else might be revealed during such an outing.

The other day I was able to link up with one of Kevin's well-pressed trails from an excursion he took with the toboggan to fetch dead timber for our trusty Jotul wood stove, which has kept us so wonderfully warm all winter. The sun caught on the many-faceted snow particles over the fields like so many diamonds. I had to stop and take photos, though the camera couldn't quite capture the full essence. Tobbacco, who had gone on ahead of the rest of us, sat patiently on the trail waiting for me to finish snapping photos.

I had brought the camera along because now that the snow is deep again, the horses have gone back to pawing and digging to get to the grasses underneath. During the last brief melt we had, it didn't look to me like there was anything but soggy, faded, depleted and spent looking grass to be grazing upon, and I couldn't imagine why the horses would bother to expend so much effort digging for such sorrowful looking forage.


But since this last layer of deep snow, it seems some magic is at work...look! Green shoots! (Click on the image to enlarge and see the early gift the universe has given to the horses.)The song of the earth was heard by the horses (because they were tuned in and listening rather than moaning and groaning over more deep snowfall as I had been) and it told them that the awakening of the landscape was already underway!

The next day, I took the camera out with me again and took some photos of the horses:

The herd finishes up their breakfast hay up near the house.


Fada, Interessado, Ciente, Mistral and Zeus


Himself, purebred Sorraia stallion, Altamiro

After initially running off because I startled him , Altamiro became intensely curious in my picture taking and decided to offer me some poses.

Doll and Altamiro, coming in close for more intimate attention from the camera gal

And to close for today, I want to share photos I took yesterday of a piece of statuary that stands in the corner at the top of the stairs to our basement. This marble statue once belonged to my mother-in-law. I have named her St. Melangell after the legend of the Celtic patron saint of the hare and other animals. As I was coming up the stairs, my mind still focused on wanting to "fast forward" through these remaining days of winter, the sunlight happened to be falling on her exactly as you see here. Like an omen or affirmation, wouldn't you say? So mystical in its illumination of this patron saint of the animals here at Ravenseyrie...this beam of sun reveals a promise that the dialogue with the universe is an ever-evolving beautiful song suggesting things are "just right" and best experienced in the moment and not wished away.

Wintering Well

Sovina's Zorita, feeling good on a sunny afternoon with the temperature reading -2°F

Sovina's Zorita, the Sorraia/Sulphur Mustang cross mare who came to live with us last September is wintering well here at Ravenseyrie, despite our persistent deep freeze temperatures of the past week (getting as low as -37°F one morning!).

Prior to her Canadian immigration, Zorita lived her life in the more temperate regions of Oregon and her former owner, Bonnie, has been worried that the harshness of this island winter might be too much for Zorita to cope with. I took a series of photos during yesterday's late afternoon hay meal, which I hope will allay Bonnie's concerns. Zorita has adapted splendidly, which doesn't surprise me at all, given her genetic make up predisposes her to thriving even in harsh environments.


This is our fourth winter here on Manitoulin Island and keeping horses in a semi-wild setting up on a rugged, windswept bluff, has been as educational as it has been challenging. To read most of the literature discussing how to keep horses in winter, one realizes how far removed from the natural world most horses' situations are. It has become apparent to me that the vast majority of information provided on winter horse maintenance is designed for the convenience of humans and the whims of usage they subject their horses to, as well as being heavily influenced by our own culturally shaped aversion to the cold. From this, an entire industry of stabling supplies and horse clothing has evolved over hundreds of years, with the modern horse being outfitted "against the cold" in ever more highly technological ways.

"Against the cold" is a phrase that strikes me as worthy of our contemplation.

We know that exposure to cold can be a thing that is life draining when ill-outfitted and poorly prepared. What we don't realize in these modern times is that the technology which has liberated us from the potential harm of the cold, leaves us poorly outfitted and ill-prepared when the infrastructure of technology malfunctions. We have become totally dependent on expensive living arrangements which keep us at a medium range of acceptable temperatures we consider necessary for our comfort. I think of us now as being much more vulnerable to the vicissitudes of the weather than our pre-industrial ancestors were with their warm fires and animal skins. We have separated and isolated ourselves from Nature, whereas our ancestors lived "with" the rhythms of Nature in ways that provided them simple means of shelter and sustenance.

Zeus, a thin-skinned, hot-blooded Thoroughbred has adapted marvelously well to our Canadian winters. Shown here nibbling afternoon hay with five month old, Interessado.

We have been conditioned to believe that early humans spent every waking moment quaking in fear of impending death from predators and harsh environmental conditions while constantly concerning themselves about their next meal. We imagine this is the same situation for animals living in the wild. Many humans go as far as to say that Nature is flawed and ours is an unending struggle against a hostile world, whether one is a city dweller or a rural landowner. My observations here at Ravenseyrie of our equine herd as well as the natural fauna we share this environment with suggest to me that it is our cultural conditioning that is flawed not Nature. If there are troubles in Nature, it is more likely an imbalance caused by the actions of humans. And aren't we modern humans toiling madly for our livelihoods, stressed by financial concerns, living in fear of terrorist attacks and constantly complaining that we never have enough time to do the things we most desire to do--the very things we thought our modern lifestyles liberated us from?

Eight month old, Fada

Because we have become intolerant of the cold, we feel that all life dwelling out in the cold suffers. If this were so, how is it possible that so many living things not only survive winter, but depend upon it for survival? Some plants and creatures will only thrive in climates where harsh winter seasons are part of the yearly cycle. The glorious equine evolved in such climates--how could we imagine that horses cannot find some enjoyment out of winter conditions?

Some days are stressful for creatures living in the wilderness, but we should also keep in mind that even as much as we insulate ourselves from the harshness of nature, we find ourselves experiencing stressful times and times of suffering and handle it not nearly so gracefully as do our wilderness animals. I've come to appreciate that struggling a bit from time to time (like those strenuous hauls to bring hay out to the horses in the forest) is much healthier than remaining slumped in an easy chair watching television. I've no doubt it is the same for the animals. The easy life is not necessarily the best life overall.

Years ago, when I was showing dressage with Mistral, I spared no expense for his comfort and was convinced he had the best possible care I could provide. A blanketed horse locked in a stable, knee-deep in fragrant wood shavings, shielded from the weather, with a belly full of rich alfalfa hay and sweetened grains and a warmed bucket of water always available tends to give us humans a sense of comfort...our beloved equines then share some of our luxuriant living and we need not feel guilty as we rush back into our overly heated homes.

Years have passed and I've come to realize that such a comfortable situation comes with a price, however, as our best intentions to provide our horse with an environment that insulates him from the weather are at the expense of our horse's autonomy and ability to regulate his own situation. If the temperature rises overnight and he becomes too warm he remains trapped in his blanket and stable until the human comes out to help him out of his discomfort. Likewise such comforts are proven now to be responsible for a long list of troubles stabled horses suffer: hoof disorders, allergies, digestive ailments and under-appreciated mental disturbances, just to name a few.

Animado, Fada and Interessado, enjoying late afternoon hay.

Horses that are allowed to live "with" the rhythms of Nature develop exceptional thermal regulatory capacities allowing them to cope with the changeable weather and extremes in temperatures (actually handling cold better than heat). When provided a truly natural environment which contains variations in the landscape, wooded areas, higher and lower ground, etc., horses are constantly flowing with the mood of the day, choosing for themselves the best location to be depending on weather conditions. I can tell you from experience that there is a huge difference in the feeling of blizzard conditions inside a man-made, wood-sided structure versus the sensation one experiences when walking in the middle of a Cedar forest or even in the open but down the slope of the bluff.

Mistral is definitely lost in the moment and savoring his hay meal.

It continues to be a wondrous thing watching the way the horses and mules and wilderness creatures adapt themselves to whatever the day's weather might be, and I find myself more and more emulating their graceful behavior and sharing in their capacity to find comfort where they find it. I'm learning from them that winter is best experienced by being in the moment and acting accordingly.

An erudite Japanese fellow, Masanobu Fukuoka sums it up in this way, "What I am talking about here definitely is not a return to the past. I suppose one could call it a return to the present. It involves neither attachment to the past nor expectations for the future, but simply living in the nature of the today. All that is required is that we surrender ourselves to the current of nature."

Totally in the moment, the next morning the horses nap contentedly, with the sun on their faces and the temperature a balmy 11°F on the thermometer. Gracefully, they live in "the nature of today".

And There Were Others

Kevin and I eloped when we got married and in doing so we spared ourselves the worry of determining who to invite to the ceremony. As scatter-brained as I can be, I certainly would have forgotten to include individuals that should have been on the list. After posting yesterday's journal entry, it was as if suddenly I remembered I'd forgotten to invite Auntie Diane to the wedding!

There, of course, have been many amazing people who (whether through personal contact or through the study of their written works) have contributed to my journey with horses. Perhaps sometime I will write a piece that shares who these people were and how they came to influence me. For now, I was mostly keeping to the past five to seven years--and even within that narrow time frame I realize I left out several key players.

Interessdo and Shelagh consider nose to nose contact

How could I have not relayed to you my immense admiration for Carolyn Resnick? Astute reader's will recall that I've mentioned her in a post or two, and her blog link has been a consistent feature in the sidebar links of interest.

It is no idle comment to say that it was the inspiration from Carolyn's youthful experiences with making friends with wild horses that stimulated me to approach relations with my own "wildies" from a perspective that allows the horse complete freedom to choose whether she desires to be with me or not. I think it was here, in Carolyn's book, NAKED LIBERTY, that I first discovered there are horse people out in the world who do not coerce or impose their wills upon horses, but rather spend the time to develop a friendship with horses so that they desire to be with us and try new things we might ask of them.

Nevermind that I still have discomfort with certain elements in Carolyn's "Seven Waterhole Rituals", those that I do wholly embrace have been like keys into a magical realm...and really do, as she says, develop a magnetic heart connection between the horses and myself.

It was also through the inspiration Carolyn's book provided that prompted me to have a go at riding completely tack-less, which has created for me some of the best memories I've ever had with Mistral.

The venerable Mistral views his world through contented eyes

If you order Stormy May's dvd, you'll see some insightful footage of Carolyn "dancing" with horses. Within Carolyn's blog, you see that she is very forthright with her desire to share her way of being with horses and tirelessly works towards helping humans better understand horses.

Carolyn's website is here: http://dancewithhorses.com/

Carolyn's blog can be accessed here: http://www.carolynresnickblog.com/

Prior to Carolyn's work, I was certainly for some time quite captivated by Klaus Ferdinand Hempfling and his DANCES WITH HORSES book and videos. Kris McCormack worked diligently, just as she has done with Imke Spilker's book, to bring Klaus' work to English readers, and she followed up DANCES WITH HORSES with another of Klaus' books titled, WHAT HORSES REVEAL. (And did I mention that it was Kris who sent me a copy of NAKED LIBERTY along with a video of Carolyn's work? Kris has been hugely influential in my journey for many years...she deserves an entire entry herself!)

We meet Klaus again in Stormy May's documentary and HORSES FOR LIFE just recently ran a highly meaningful two part exclusive interview with him--both of which helped soften the rather cynical attitude I'd developed when I found certain elements of his work (as presented in the earlier books) off-putting in light of where I found myself moving forward with my interactions with horses.

Klaus' website is here: www.hempfling.com/

I still look through my books and dvds of this man's work...certain philosophical elements and some pretty lovely images continue to inspire me even now.

Zorita, puts on a grumpy face to suggest to Doll that she move out of her way

A quick bit here about some other authors who have caused me to think differently about what type of environment is best for horses and have served to consolidate for me my continual preference for the Natural world versus that which is scientific and man-made. There have been many authors whose work has contributed, but recently these three in particular have left their mark (and only one is a "horse" person).

--Jamie Jackson
--Masanobu Fukuoka
--Stephen H. Buhner

I'm not mentally prepared to expand upon these gentlemen but I will leave you with a lengthy quote to contemplate from Masanobu Fukuoka from his book THE NATURAL WAY OF FARMING:

A scientist who wishes to know Mt. Fuji will climb the mountain and examine the rocks and wildlife. After having conducted geological, biological, and meteorological research, he will conclude that he now has a full picture of Fuji. but if we were to ask whether it is the scientist who has spent his life studying the details of the mountain who knows it best, the answer would have to be no. When one seeks total understanding and comprehensive judgment, analytic research is instead a hindrance. If a lifetime of study leads to the conclusion that Fuji consists mostly of rocks and trees, then it would have been better not to have climbed it in the first place.

One can know Fuji by looking at it from afar. One must see it and yet not examine it, and in not examining it, know it.

Yet the scientist will think: "Well, gazing at Mt. Fuji from a distance is useful for knowing it abstractly and conceptually, but is no help in learning something about the actual features of the mountain. Even if we concede that analytic research is of no use in knowing and understanding the truth about Fuji, learning something about the trees and rocks on the mountain is not totally meaningless. And moreover, isn't the only way to learn something to go and examine it directly?"

To be sure, I can say that analyzing nature and appending to these observations one's conclusions is a meaningless exercise, but unless those who listen understand why this is worthless and unrelated to the truth, they will not be convinced.

What more can I say if, when I mention that the artist Hokusai who captured faraway images of Fuji in his paintings understood it better than those who climbed it and found it an ugly mountain, I am told that this is just a subjective difference, a mere difference in viewpoint or opinion.

The most common view is that one can best know the true nature of Fuji by both listening to the ecologist speak of his research on its fauna and flora and looking at the abstracted form of Fuji in Hokusai's paintings. But this is just like the hunter who chases two rabbits and catches none. Such a person neither climbs the mountain nor paints. Those who say Fuji is the same whether we look at it lying down or standing up, those who make use of discriminating knowledge, cannot grasp the truth of this mountain.

Without the whole, the parts are lost, and without the parts, there is no whole. Both lie within the same plane. The moment he distinguishes between the trees and rocks that form a part of the mountain and the mountain as a whole, man falls into a confusion from which he cannot easily escape. A problem exists from the moment man draws a distinction between partial, focused research and total, all-encompassing conclusions.

To know the real Fuji, one must look at the self in relation to Fuji rather than at the mountain itself. One must look at oneself and Fuji prior to the self-other dichotomy. When one's eyes are opened by forgetting the self and becoming one with Fuji, then one will know the true form of the mountain.

Though I am helped along by so many others through a variety of meaningful elements, it is in this manner Masanobu has shared with us that I now attempt to know the true horse.

Altamiro posing left, and right and looking pretty majestic and quietly confident...can he really only be three years old? He has such a sense of wisdom that projects from him!