For almost twenty years my horse Brown and I have shared a living space. Her pasture is, in essence, my front yard. I often see her standing in her barn or under the big oak tree as I stand at my kitchen sink to wash dishes or prepare a meal. At those times she often feels me watching her and will break her meditation to raise her head to look for me. She seems to look right at me, even though she can't really see me through the kitchen window. This has happened with such clockwork predictability, that I have come to accept as fact, her ability to feel me and my feelings toward her, from a distance.
Over the years I've observed Brown as she goes about her daily life. I've noticed when she eats, rests, and drinks water. I've watched while she developed a significant relationship with an oak tree, before she had a herd of horse friends. I've watched her respond to and cope with the changes in her world - a shift in the wind, a new herd member, the loss of a loved one, the change of seasons, getting older.
I've been a horsewoman my entire life, but it wasn't until sharing my living space with Brown, that I noticed how much horses have to teach me. With more opportunities to study her and her way of being up close and personal, and by sharing some common tragedies and challenges, I have, over time, absorbed some of her wisdom. I have gleaned some of the great horse lessons from a master teacher.
Becoming more horselike has helped me to meet life's challenges with more grace, more compassion, and more trust. I often ask myself, "What would Brown do?" And the answer usually involves more about being and less about doing.
Brown is fully grounded in this world, but not completely of it. She is solidly rooted in her body, in the now. Her genius lies in being fully present in this world, while simultaneously feeling with and responding to promptings from other worlds, other times, and other dimensions. She hears voices I cannot hear. She knows things I cannot know. Her sensitivity to the shifts in energy around her informs her decisions and ensures her survival. The things she feels and senses as a matter of course throughout her daily life, are barely detectable to me.
I am so grateful for and humbled by this remarkable creature. Everything she has taught me has made me who I am and has contributed to this online journal, my work, and my offering to the world.
Over the years I've made mental notes as I've watched her and learned from her. Recently, I've started writing things down as her subtle teachings have become clearer to me. And I've started putting them on a blog that I've created in her honor, so that others can benefit from her wisdom. I only hope I have done her justice. I only hope that my words adequately convey the depth and beautiful simplicity of her way of being in this world.
The blog is called www.brownhorsewisdom.com. If you want, you can sign up to receive new bits of her wisdom automatically.
Her first post is a fine example of how her teachings have inspired me. I want to share it, since it resonates so well with the recent entries on this site.
Brown says, "Do what you do while you're doing it, and don't worry about what you're not doing while you're not doing it."
Lots of love,
Shelly and Brown