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Showing posts with label teacher. Show all posts
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Monday, April 16, 2018

Wild Empath Chronicles - Random thoughts on my ride

Wild Empath Chronicles Random thoughts on my ride

Wild Empath Chronicles Random thoughts on my ride


Just got off the Ning boards, talking to my friends, people I have never met in person. We visit for hours, our likes, our dislikes, helping, understanding and growing together. I think of these people often, the trials and accomplishments we share. We are all so different, but as I learn more about each person I see great strength in every single one. Some it’s very obvious, they are bold, bright and self assured. Willing to help anyone out if they can, the gentle hand up when needed. You read this description and think they are the teachers. You think wrong. Every person on here is student and teacher. Every person has things they don’t know and every person here has something they can share. Those that may at first appear weak, confused, or troubled; you may not see the incredible strength they hold. They feel everything at such a great spectrum yet here they are seeking help, knowing, wanting to over come these trials to feel one with the world. That great first step has been taken, the walk out of the void and into the masses. Masses of others just like them, to see that there is a whole community of people that understand. The bliss, the freedom that it holds is amazing.

I think these thoughts as I go get my gelding. It’s a beautiful day and I need my outside time. I saddle up and head for the trails. He is ready and willing. We trot through the morning sun, gentle cool breeze blowing through the trees. We are heading into the woods, at a gentle climb. My mine wanders to a conversation I had with a friend. There was discussion on the Chronicles and how they were mostly on a sad negative note. Not my way usually, and I was a bit ashamed I only shared the ugly in my life.

I thought about it, and for some of the magical moments in my life I don’t possess the proper vocabulary to properly describe my feelings. Perhaps the words don’t exist. The good things that happen I don’t over analyze, I accept them for the beautiful wonderful things they are, and carry them with me always. The negative things require more logical thought for some reason, they must be understood, learned from and filed away to make sure they don’t happen again. That must be why the human brain thinks it remembers the bad better than the good. The good is stored in the heart, feelings, part of the spirit to be called on when needed to boost a bad day, or lighten a load.

I follow the trail and see a wild turkey in the brush, a big beautiful bird, just wandering around. I idly wondered if he was lost, for some reason it puts a smile on my face. We follow the trail to the creek. A true babbling brook, small enough to jump across with enough stones for the water to trickle by it makes that wonderful gentle running water sound. I head down to it, dismount and tie my gelding to a tree. I walk down to the creek and sit in the dirt. The scene is like a post card, dappled sunlight through the trees, the sides of the bank overgrown with vines and bushes, the breeze still gentle through my hair, as I sit, listening to the sounds of the water, smelling the life of the forest, and seeing the movement of the water. I feel the life all around me, gentle and comforting. My mind wanders again

I think of a friend I haven’t heard from in a while, and hope they are okay. I know the worry is needless, but I do so anyway. I smile, its how some folks show they care. I realized there are many I worry about, and many that have my heart. In a way it is liberating to know you can open up so fully if you choose. To love and share as you see fit. I needs not be returned, and if it is that is the greatest gift of all. There is nothing more precious to me than love given freely. So often there is attempt to force such a thing. But to do so, destroys the gift, and makes it a burden.

I close my eyes and breathe deep, taking in the gentle cool essence of the creek, listening to the water washing over the smooth round stones. She speaks to me. It’s the Mother, our planet. Its not often I give her my mind, but today its Hers. I worry about Her too. She is not frail, She is not weak, She is complete in her self. We think we harm her, She laughs. We build structures to please the ego, She shivers a bit and they are knocked to the ground. We foul her waters; She hiccups and cleanses the ocean in one small effort. She is all, and feels all. We need Her, we are all connected. I worry about the devastation we cause, to Her its just one more thing. When She has had enough She will reclaim her land and seas. It is not for Her she worries, but for us. She will do what is necessary to maintain Herself, it will be the people and animals that suffer. She will feel that pain, but will do what must be done. She is mother, God the Father. Both smile gently at the foolishness of the human race, both knowing the sadness that will be Theirs as they cleanse this world and make it worthy for yet another round of human habitation.

Many holy books speak of this cleansing. People fight over which thought is right, what to call God, how to honor Him or Her. They argue which people are better, kinder, nobler, who is best. What path is the one all should take? No one has the right to choose another’s path. It is a private thing, not to be argued, or shamed. Yet people die for their beliefs every day. I wonder if I would ever be that strong as to face death for my knowing of my heart, to stand tall, with honor and pride at my conviction. I pray I am never tested, and I pray that if I am I will be worthy.

My gelding is agitated; the turkey I saw earlier reminds me that where there is prey there are predators. It is the way of nature, brutal and beautiful in its simplicity. I get up from my peaceful resting spot, take one last look at the beautiful scene and get back on my horse and head down the trail.

My mind is very restless as I leave the shady woods to walk along side a man made canal. The water flowing does not smell as sweet, or sound as gentle. There is no life here, just water in concrete forced to go this way or that. Necessary for our lives, but not the gentle natural flow of the little creek I just enjoyed a few minutes ago.

My gelding has had enough of this gentle thinking and meandering through the woods. He wants to play, and as we near a running spot, I feel his energy charge through him. He is a strong and powerful force all his own. I feel the muscles tense, and the joy he is waiting for. I let him fly. His mind is of a wild nature, to run free across the plains just for the joy of the power, speed and movement. To run with the herd, but that isn’t his life now, he is not free. Not free to fear predators, not free to starve or die of thirst. But every now and then I give him as much freedom as I can, and he is willing to share that joy with me. It is an honor, one I can not describe in words.

As I near home, I feel a presence, my friend I was worried for, and a quiet voice in my mind, I am fine, please don’t worry. And now I won’t.