It’s been six weeks of recovery time since my mind-opening fall. Mur, my senior gelding and riding partner that day, offers me sweet apologies as only a horse can give: soft nuzzles, liquid brown eyes, and stillness when I go out to visit him. The stillness allows me to gently touch him, rub his velvety ears, and apologize to him for my oversights. The stillness also keeps me safe so I do not have to move much with my tender ribs, allowing him to enfold his massive grey body around me, offering comfort and protection, lovingly strengthening the silent bond between horse and human.
Since I now have hours upon hours of stillness to endure yet during this recovery process, I need to find an outlet for all the information bombarding my senses. It’s as if I have tapped into a universal energy through the actions of Mur and need to capture it on paper: clarify my thoughts, sort them out, and keep the ones that support my authentic self. The healing process is tapping into my creative outlets in a big way.
Loving color and sound and rhythm I have a new burning desire to express myself in the form of writing, or more specifically, journaling. Journaling allows me to see random patterns and if I can wrap my brain around the patterns of emotions, then physically I should be just fine in time. This quiet, ‘still’ time is allowing me to clarify things that perhaps I was ignoring before. I can journal into the wee hours of the night, talking up a storm that only I can hear. It doesn’t have to make sense, it doesn’t have to be complete sentences, it only has to capture and record the essence of a thought and emotion so I can create something tangible out of it later.
Emotions keep spilling over like a magical rainbow of out of my heart. Sketches, catchy jingles, heartfelt poems, and songs are flowing with ease and a cheeriness that defies explanation. Seeing them appear on paper allows me to say them out loud, taste them, experience them, juggle them around and see how they fit the new me. There is no right or wrong way to journal – it’s private and personal and is a tool for reflection. The insight gained through journaling will go back out with me to the horses in the way I listen to them with new interest, talk to them with new respect, and plan activities with outcomes that stretch compassion and joy rather than function and form.
In retrospect of this process of clearing out the cobwebs of excess emotional baggage and tag-along shadow thoughts, I’m appreciating this new clarity in my thinking. By bringing in focus and clarity I can move ahead with a purpose more true to my authentic self.
Talking to the night does have its rewards and the reward is a deeper, more genuine, self-confident person who can appreciate the wisdom of silence and quiet time. I find that to be a blessing.