I’ve been thinking in terms of the way in which we interpret the world around us. As humans we have become dependent upon our eyes. Often if we cannot see it, cannot touch it, we do not believe it exists. It is then only an idea, a theory, etc.
Come swiftly, or slowly. Come towards me when you are ready. I will stand, I will wait, I will be ready in every moment.
Turn left or turn right, stay straight ahead if you like. I am centered, I am balanced, I am ready in every moment.
Jump ahead or turn around, step straight forward, step straight back. I care little which way you should go, for I will be ready in this moment.
The horse in his infinite patience has but to ask us for ours in return, but do we listen? That is the meditation, we listen, we become still and silent. We leave the door open for the wind to tousle, or the curtains drawn for the sun to shine inward. Meditation is not the thought, but leaving the thought behind. Isn’t that what we long for in our time with the horse? To leave the thoughts behind of tomorrow, of yesterday, of the stresses, of the worries, of all those fears that keep us locked to the ground or stuck in our own path? That the horse could set us free, and yet we find new problems arise in that hope.
