Horse Goddess

When I get stressed, I often forget to listen to a lot of internal voices: intuition, connection with horses, connection with deity, etc. It’s as if the stress of whatever the situation is causes me to become disconnected, unrooted. My energy bottles safely in my throat / heart / solar plexus chakras and doesn’t reach out.

My deity is patient. This situation comes up every now and then. Most of the time, I realize what is happening, analyze my reactions, and take steps to remove myself from the stress or work through it. Resolving the stress lets me reground and reconnect — and listen.

In those instances when I am either slow in recognizing I’ve fallen in the stress-unground-head-up-butt pattern, She lets me know with subtle hints at first, finally escalating to hoof-to-butt bruises. (Nothing will dislodge head-from-butt faster than an appropriately placed hoof.)

A few weeks ago, I was in a serious rut. There had been some major stresses, one after the other, and I hadn’t caught the stress cycle in time. I was making daily offerings in the morning, but I wasn’t really listening to what She had to say. Instead, I was leaving an offering and then quickly going about the business of getting ready for work.  The normal reminders weren’t getting through: minor car issue, horse having minor issue, recognizing that connection with my horse wasn’t as clear as it should be, etc.

What final message knocked me about the head enough that I realized what was going on? I fell and twisted my ankle. A few days later, my mare had a windpuff and was lame — back right foot, just like my right ankle. Talk about a wake up call. (My mare was fine after a few days. The swelling went down immediately.) At some point, you realize that the stupid little things that have been happening aren’t just stupid little things… they are an escalating series meant to get your attention.

I’m dense, so in this case, I had to be physically stopped and forced to work from home where I had to have my leg up. Working from my bed in sight of my altar every morning.

Hello, clue phone, I finally heard you.

Grey Cat’s memorial was held on her birthday on June 16th at her old house. I spent many evenings up there in classes, attending potlucks, and sharing time with friends (while trying to survive a room-full of smokers). This was a poem I wrote a few days before Grey Cat’s memorial. It is a strange thing doing a handfasting one weekend and attending a memorial service the following weekend. Bookends, in a way.

Court and carry candles

She passed with grace from our circle
to the Samhain side of the veil
a loved Grey Cat with a lioness personality

Has it been so long that I am the one in center now
instead of fumbling in the ritual closet for items
(and never putting them back in the right place –labeled or not)

The copper carry candle still burns
lighting the way this time
for us to find our remembrance of you.

I speak up during ritual now
clean dishes unasked
shuttle people through before-and-after ritual
weaving a web of discourse
knitted conversations
never managing to capture court

With a tilt of your head
glancing over glasses
tapping a cigarette
the world stopped for you
You, graciously, nodded its passing
and marked your last months with beauty and love.

I’m still here
remembering Summer Solstice
visiting the privy and the falls
meeting people who stand here now
Smiling.

-June 14, 2012