Monday, February 25, 2008
A Measure of Spirit
It’s a brilliantly blue day, with snow and ice melting in the warm sun. Silk is being Zen horse again, but Siete bounces back and forth along the pasture fence looking for somewhere to put all her pent-up energy. My arms still ache from shoveling the heavy snow. My brain is a bit fuzzy and lazy, ready to hibernate for a few more weeks until Spring arrives. I stood in Silk’s stall and watched Siete prancing in the snow. She’s frustrated that it’s too deep and icy stiff to really run across to the pine trees on the other side of the smooth, shimmering white carpet.
Siete’s got a stronger spirit than I do. It’s not the first time that I’ve felt this way. When she was only a few weeks old, I was in her corral, and she spun around and kicked me on my thumb. I was shocked that my loving, adorable filly would turn on me. Cowboy Joe, her godfather and trainer, warned me, “She’s going to test you every day. Watch how her mom handles her. Remember, every little thing you do teaches her something new.” For a while, I wondered if I was ready to take on that big an assignment. Once I realized that there were no deadlines, I decided I was up for the challenge. I believe that I can guide her without having to damage her strength.
Today, Siete reminds me of the impatience and ambition I had when I was young. My own daughter, at age 12, mirrors our little horse with that slightly reckless and optimistic attitude. Siete wanted to run free, even though her good sense prevailed. Mama Silk stood in the sun, contented and wise enough to know that you simply enjoy each moment as you can without wishing for what it’s not. After all, tomorrow, it’s going to snow and rain again.