I get told it a lot. It's an occupational hazard of being an empath.
But what does it really mean to us? Why is it something that comes up time and time again?
Does time itself heal us, or do we get desensitized to the pain over time...
As someone who feels just about everything, I have to tell you that time does not heal all. Time helps you hide all. Taking steps to heal that pain is what heals over time. Not the other way around.
I was reminded of this idea today as I've been working with Q a lot more to get him ready to start actual saddle work. I found myself in a state of constant procrastination of the idea; and I decided to sit down and really puzzle through why I was giving him more and more time. I discovered my excuses were because of that phrase... If I kept giving him more time, he'd be more ready to start work again. He wouldn't shut down again. He wouldn't lose weight again... he would be healed.
But it became a very flawed notion. Because giving him time suddenly became not working with him. And that would've been sending us backwards. So I picked up my act, and started a real work schedule with him on the ground. The results have been amazing. He is one of the softest horses to cue on the ground; he's willing and connected at the slightest try. And he has begun to value me for more than just the hay net lady. Before he would only run to the gate when it was turn in for grain time; now he approaches me any time I am near for some social connections.
The other night he told me in more ways than one that he was ready to start saddle work; but more importantly that he was ready to trust me. He's ready to be a responsible partner. After our ground lesson and liberty games session; I took him out to his paddock and instead of leaving me at the gate after our "one last carrot" moment... he turned to me and put his head next to me. Then he backed up and put my body right next to his heart girth. And leaned into me. He took so many deep breaths and just stood there; with just enough pressure against me that we were connected, but not enough that he was pushing me off balance.
At first I was really confused at his behaviour, I thought maybe he was trying to show me a painful spot, or wanted me to itch his belly. But every time I went to move towards him with my hands he would lean back, wait for me to stop, then lean back in.
Eventually I took the hint, put my head against his back and leaned back into him. He took this deep relaxing breath and relaxed every muscle in his body. And there we stood, breathing in rhythm...
It brought tears to my eyes. He has been so hard to reach for so long. But all I had to do was stop trying to fix him, stop thinking I needed to do this and that. And just BE with him. I had to let go.
It's always about letting go.
I think that's where this "time heals all" thing comes in. As if time makes it easier for you to let go; or it forces you to let go without knowing. But the truth is that letting go is a conscious act. You have to recognize your tension, recognize what you are holding onto with that human death grip.. and let it go.
"If you love something, let it free"
There are no truer words than those.
Let go of the reins.
Open the gate.
Let go of the lead.
Let go of this caged tunnel vision thinking.
And just be in the moment.
That moment with Q at the gate is one of the most important moments in our entire year together. I know how calm and connected he can be. I know he can relax into my soft pressure, and I into his. This is the most important conversation we have had to date. And to me it says we are ready to take a step into another world. Upward and onward.
He has healed me. He has shown me what I am capable of if I allow myself to be.
To let go and follow my instinct.
To follow this feel.
This deafening ability to feel everything; so I can absorb and then let it go back into the world.
Positive. Grounded.
Time and time again.
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