Being Present In The Pasture

Theo Walking Forward

I think the hardest thing in life is figuring out when exactly I became a control freak. When did every problem become mine to fix, and what happens when it is out of my control? I am a Christian woman, so I know I’m never in control, God is. I walk the path chosen, in faith. That doesn’t mean I don’t question it or battle it and then succumb. We all succumb, we have no choice. The only real choice we have is when to let it go. Do we hold on until it tears us up, or do we look up and say- "You got this, because I don’t?".

As I write this, I am grieving the sudden loss of my sweet chocolate lab, Godiva, who unexpectedly crossed the Rainbow Bridge, two days ago. My heart is shattered. I had no warning, there were no symptoms or signs, she just gasped and died. I had no control. None. So there is a battle within my soul; I lost my sweetest girl and in her final moments I was helpless. Control freaks don’t do well being helpless.

Control freaks lack patience, I know first-hand. Patience can be found in the pasture where being impatient will serve you no purpose. If you go to catch your horse, and he doesn’t want to be caught, he will run and you won’t catch him. It’s just how it is. Although, this alone reveals a lot about you. How do you react when he trots away? Are you blaming him? "Dang horse, always a pain to catch!!". Or, are you taking a moment to understand the horse is reflecting your energy and then take a moment to be present in the moment?

The day after my girl passed away, I went to see my Theo. Instead of catching him, I sat in the pasture, on the ground. I said nothing. I just sat there. Would he feel my heart? Would he know I needed him?

While horses have great memories, they live in the present. Prey animals are alert and aware of the here and now. So, as I sat on the ground, I became focused on the here and now. My gut hurt. My heart ached. A tear flowed down my cheek. The wind was blowing my hair around and I felt weak. The sun was warm on my face, but the breeze was cool. I was allowing myself to be engulfed in my feelings, and I was immersed in the herd. I wanted so badly to go running to him, but I didn’t. I needed to practice grounding and finding my patience. I didn’t need to rush grieving. I needed to surrender control. I focused on my breath, my sadness, and I prayed.

I saw Theo look up from his hay bale and watch me. I wonder if he was thinking, "What is she doing?" Or maybe he was thinking… "She is ready for me now". He began to walk over in a slow, loving manner. His look was that of concern and understanding. In that moment I exhaled and began to cry. Hard.

Sometimes in life, we rush ourselves through things that we need to step through slowly. Sometimes, despite all our efforts, we have no control. Sometimes we must find a place to just ‘be’. We need to learn to be patient with ourselves and our current situation. We need to be grounded, with our herd, and live in that moment. Fully experience that moment, because only then can we move on. I shared that moment with Theo, on a windy Tuesday, in Texas. 

Kimberlee & Theo

Kimberlee Delany

Life begins after 50, or when you decide to learn about horses! With a passion for animals and a quest for learning, it’s not surprising I began lessons after I turned 50.

With a BS in Psychology, I spent my career in technology, starting at the help desk and landing as a technical business advisor; doing all the techie steps that are needed in-between to cross that bridge.

Continuous improvement is the name of the game.

While growing in my career, I also started a fitness journey. Over the past twenty years, I have explored a variety of sports, from triathlons to Olympic weightlifting. I have competed in local events up and down the East Coast and, most recently, the Texas State Weightlifting Championship.

It all leads to this!

When you are around horses, you notice something, something within you is awakened. It doesn’t matter how old you are, there is something to uncover. In a quest for knowledge, and the sheer experience of discovering the mystery of ‘why I feel so at peace with horses’, I became certified in Equine Assisted Learning (EAL). Now, with a desire to share this amazing journey on how horses heal, I began journaling my experiences with horses and how they teach us about life.

This article is from the April issue of Equine Business Magazine