This beautiful donkey is one of the many friends I met while my Sweetie and I were visiting with our dear friend “Shelly” on the other side of the island this past week.
Whoah, has it been a heck of a week.
I have to say, I go back and read entries I posted not even a month ago, and I feel like that is a different person. My way of looking at the world, at life, at this incarnation, at this amazing transformation I and others around me are experiencing.
It’s difficult to describe.
I will take a shot at it in a later entry.
For today, I’ll tell you what my donkey friend shared with me:
“My baby is a male. I will give birth in 23 days.
My hips and back are so sore and tired! (She showed me a picture of her baby’s hoof pressing into her bladder and making her pee on her fresh bedding, and her feeling of resigned fatigue.)
Many of the children talk to me. I wish the adults would listen to their children (picture of an adult telling the child the donkey isn’t really talking to her.)
We (grown animals) are here to teach the young ones how to be, how to grow into what we are.
Young ones (her baby, children) teach us (adults) how to be new in the world (how to change, evolve.)”
This photo was taken at a therapeutic riding association. You know, a rainbow ranch. The place was like Hogwarts but with animals. The old school was a nunnery at one point. As we walked past it I could hear choir singing and bells.
The grounds are covered with organic, community gardens and leased garden plots. Chickens roamed pretty much free range, as did an old, tan great dane.
We visited the horses and chatted for a while.
I really like this photo. The mare’s name is “Destiny”. She says:
“The weather is warm and I am anxious and restless to be outside. But I must wait my turn. My skin itches with eagerness. I am a working horse, and I don’t enjoy leisure days in my stall.
You understand that horses are sacred animals of movement, and I know that you would let me out into the field if you could. It is nice to be listened to, although I don’t feel like talking.
My stomach has been hurting me a bit lately and so I kick at my belly. I think that is why I am kept inside today, so that the ladies can keep an eye on me. They are all very kind to me here. The work is easy and very important. I am happiest when I am working with my boy.
I have a particular boy who comes to ride me. I haven’t seen him in a few weeks. He has a cough, liquid on his lungs. He comes to visit me in his sleep, and I visit him in his dreams, so I know just what is going on with him. I heal and protect him, even when he is in the hospital. That is our duty, to care for our children.
There will be a new child coming to ride me when I am feeling better. She is a bit afraid of horses, but I will teach her how to move past her fear because even though I am large, I am so gentle. I love teaching the children to trust. That is my favourite part.
The hardest part is when the children can no longer visit me. Some of them die, and we always know when this happens. I wish the ladies who care for us understood that we really know when one of our children passes on. They always come to visit us in spirit.
I think it is important work you are doing, teaching people to remember how to talk to animals and spirits. One day we will all converse again, and people will wonder how it ever could have been different!
That is a day I will celebrate with joy. I will run as fast as I can and kick up my heels. I may even fly.
I do like apples, so you can bring me one next time you come.”