Saturday, December 3, 2011
Letting Go
By Jamie Greenebaum & Jolene McDowell
Linda Parelli suffered a tremendous loss recently with the death of Westy. In the messages of comfort and show of support, a lot of people talked about their losses of beloved companions, both two and four-legged. As Jamie and I read these, we realized that Parelli has indeed become a community and a loss for one is a loss for all.
Jo: It’s never easy letting go. We develop such an attachment with the beings we love. It’s hard to lose them. Unfortunately, we all know the experience of grief: shock, disbelief, crying, exhaustion, confusion, feeling lost, depression, preoccupation, guilt, anger, bitterness and oh, the missing, missing, missing as we struggle with new life patterns.
Jamie: Jo, your words go right to where it hurts the most - the missing. It’s a tough subject as it brings alive all the loss I’ve experienced and the emptiness that is left behind from all the lives that have touched mine and are now gone.
Jo: Yes, the emptiness can take over. It’s so hard to watch others go on with life as if nothing monumental has occurred, when our world is reeling. The depth and intensity can be overwhelming, as if an tsunami has wiped out the world as we knew it in one swipe.
Jamie: To the world at large, we are expected to continue as if nothing has happened. Oh, you can grieve, but not for too long. You need to move on. Get on with your life. Others express their sympathy and love, but they have their lives and we are left alone with our personal devastation.
Jo: It’s hard to open that hand quickly and let go graciously, with no brace. It’s hard to not hold on to what we love, resisting . . .resisting. . .resisting the devastation. The level of grief will vary, depending on the gravity of the loss and the individual. It is so personal. We all meet it according to our individual personalities and life experiences. Yet meet it we must, for grief comes to us all. It is the price of living and loving.
Jamie: Yes, in a bittersweet way, grieving can open us up to more love. But it sure is a hard way to get there. I think being able to let go is the true gift. A few short years ago, I had to make the decision of when to let my mare go to those green, green pastures. Like you Jo, I came late to having horses in my life. “Jeepers” was my first, and she taught me so much. She brought me to Parelli. We were together for 12 years. As her health declined, she waited patiently for me to be ready to let go. That was her final gift to me.
Jo: Just like you, and so many other Parelli members, I have had a lot of losses in my life. I like to say that grief and I are old friends. And it’s not so bad. It’s good to realize you can handle life and what it gives out. It’s good to develop resilency. It’s good to realize that, indeed, as one door closes, another door opens.
Jamie: I’ve never looked at it that way: “Old friends”. Yes, I suppose we are. But I’m not sure it is a friend I look forward to encountering again and again.
Jo: It took my son Nathan 12 years to talk me into a dog. And then this adorable Petite Shelty came into our lives. We called her “Shelley”. I never knew a dog could be like her. When my three sons and their friends would play basketball in the driveway, she would run circles around them until she left bloody paw prints on the cement. She wouldn’t stop running until they stopped playing. Not a week goes by that I don’t think of her, and it’s been 18 years.
Jamie: Don’t you find that out of the corner of your eye you sometimes catch a glimpse of one who is gone? If you run after the image it vanishes. But it was there for that split second. I do believe they are with us, always in our hearts, ready to remind us of those special moments.
Jo: When I was young I thought the one thing in life I would not be able to handle was the loss of a child. Well, I guess I am stronger than I thought. While I may not see the child I loved so much out of the corner of my eye, he certainly is always in my heart. I love to visualize my precious grandparents, my son, my dog, and by then, a few horses that I love greeting me as I enter the doors of heaven. That image alone keeps my feet on the straight and narrow!
Jamie: I believe our loved ones are patiently waiting for us in heaven. However, they don’t want us to hurry!
Jo: Agreed! In talking to others on Connect about this blog, many people mentioned their losses as well. Karen Daniels said she’d lost 2 brothers in terrible accidents and her father from cancer. Jennifer Snitko said “I think this is a very timely and important blog considering Westy’s death and the other human deaths in our Parelli family, not to mention all of our community who loose horses every year. Of course, it struck me particularly, as I lost a very special mare (my first horse as an adult!) this September“. I asked my Connect friends what helped them overcome their sorrow, and almost unanimously they said “Time, remembering and love” After the sorrow passes, there is joy in remembering what we loved so much. Everything we loved in the past, helps us love better in the future. We realize we are better people because of the beloved’s presence in our lives.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Liberty
Cici really likes this. She is much more engaged with me and her environment. I'm trying to see how things are different. How I am acting, where I am standing, distances, what I do. What I really notice is how softly and quietly I ask. The "How little will it take." And I allow her time to think.
Today of course off to the pedestal. Someone apparently decided it should not be in the ring and dragged it over to side. Why they did this is beyond me. So it is now stuck in the corner with the poles and jump standards and all sorts of debris. Cici can access it by two sides only. One is parallel to the wall and the other is facing the wall. It is way too heavy for me to move. And Cici seems still interested in it and paws the top with her foot.
When we leave the pedestal Cici notices the new Golden Ball I got her. One of the big yoga balls. She walks straight to it and first paws at it, then noses it and pushes it down the long side - following and pushing. I just following along. This is sooooo cool. She stops at a broom that is leaning against the wall. Noses it, tastes the handle, knocks it down and then plays with it with her nose. Back to the ball. All of this she is doing. I am just standing watching with my jaw hanging open.
Pushes the ball into a chair at the end of the ring. Now she moves over to check the chair out. Finds a left over dressage whip on the chair and picks it up, puts it down, picks it up, looks over at me and then drops it again.
I ask her to come to me from about 10 feet away. She thinks. and thinks. I move to the side to disengage her hindend and she walks to me. We walk around a bit and she is walking with me. Not that slow hesitant walk but her forward walk! Sideways along the wall. She will go about 12 -14' from me before she stops. Progress.
To the cones for figure 8 but she decides it put your foot on the cone time. I love that she is offering so much. I take what she offers for now. Decided to end the session and head to the end of the ring where her blanket is, its going to be in the single digits tonight, and she offers sideways TO the pedestal. One more pawing at the top. What a rock star!
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Pedestal day 3
She seems very interested in doing this. When I ask her to back so we can go on to something else she will offer another try. Very engaged. This is awesome. Amazing how quickly she figured it out and what is most interesting to me is that here she is not hesitant, no nostril flare now, she is definitely in control. And she has offered both legs, one at a time.
We play at the pedestal and then I do ask her to go do something else. Sideways, squeeze, back to the pole and put one foot over. When we leave the pedestal she gets quiet and hesitant again. I hope to build on the confidence and interest and what Linda referred to in her recent blog on being provocative as "yes Ma'am!"