One wing…
This weekend I had the luxury and gift of spending time with horses…
As a girl I never had a horse,
but I always rode whenever I could…
My dad would often take me to a stable out in Delta for runs on Boundary Bay,
trail rides out by Buntzen Lake whenever we were visiting friends on Sunnyside Road,
a week at the Double T in the Cariboo…
These are some of my earlier horse memories…
As an adult I rode in the hills around Waterton National Park in Alberta,
and into the Ilgachuz Range in the Chilcotin…
This was a particularly memorable and painful ride…
The day before I got on a green horse named Bugsy who had not been ridden all year…
I ended up throwing myself off of him midway across a pasture as he flew towards a fence…
Like Wayne Gretzsky and his ability to see where the puck was going before it got there,
I could see that Bugsy had plans for a sudden stop,
and me catapulting over his head…
This is where you use vision to anticipate and avoid disaster,
for a more positive outcome…
I woke up black and blue the next morning but got back on that horse,
and rode for eleven plus hours the next day up into a herd of migrating cariboo…
These are some moments I will never forget,
due to the intense and rough beauty of the experience,
but also because I couldn’t walk the next day,
or the one after that…
This weekend the horse experience was on the ground,
except for the four minutes when I sat blinfolded on this beautiful silver-grey Appaloosa gelding,
and was led around,
and up and down a small field…
It takes an incredible amount of trust to put yourself in the hands of people you don’t know,
up in the air on a horse you’ve just met,
and trust in yourself that you can relax into your breath,
into the darkness,
and into not knowing exactly where you are going,
but knowing in the end that it will all be okay…
This male horse reminded me of my dog who died three years ago around this time…
I kept looking at this horse and thinking,
You’re a man in a horse suit aren’t you…
He nodded several times,
in response to my thoughts,
and stretched his head to me,
rolling up his eyes in surrender…
I said to him,
YOU are so wise,
and sweet,
and strong…
And I felt him say,
straight in my heart,
So are you…
And in this place,
with me,
you can be EVERYTHING that you are…
Had to listen, had no choice...
Fresh and fancy…
Although Paris is lovely,
and I would go in a second,
with my recently renewed passport,
if I were offered an invitation,
one does not have to go there,
eight times,
to gain a deeper understanding,
of oneself,
or to find adventure…
One just needs to get on one’s bike,
and ride slow,
to a massage appointment,
for expanding perception,
in one’s own city…
I was known as the French Girl in high school,
at least by the seniors,
who had concerns,
that their ‘boyfriends’,
might want to do some shopping,
in other departments,
despite the fact that my department,
was closed,
due to the fact,
I was always looking,
for the boy in my dreams,
and he definitely,
did not go,
to my high school…
I guess anyone can be considered a threat,
to insecure teenage romance,
but a triple-barreled French name,
that you happened to wander into,
as a newborn,
seemed to appear especially dangerous,
to Catholic girls with Germanic heritage,
even though I was equally German,
and somewhat Catholic…
As an adult,
people say to me,
even while they’re palpating my abdomen,
on an examining table,
with their specialized medical degrees,
Your name is like a song,
Parlez vous francais???
Non, I grew up in Richmond…
I’m not as French as I look…
A doctoral student once said to me,
with big wide-eyedness,
and naive duplicity,
How did such an exotic creature like you ever come from Richmond???
I wondered what she saw,
and I wondered how she would have felt,
and how quickly I would have been crucified,
if I’d said something like,
How did a half-native girl like you ever get into a PhD program???
At least Marilyn Monroe and Farrah Fawcett didn’t pretend to be smart…
On the way to morning massage at the Highcroft Centre,
I unzipped my Lucky Brand Mexican embroidered hoodie,
at a stoplight of heavy traffic,
in this blasting September heat…
A man old enough to be friends,
with my father,
was making a left hand turn,
onto Quebec,
and as Mr. Step Van careened around the corner,
with his wide open door,
he whistled,
in a really like your peaches kind of way,
and then slapped his horn,
with such unbridled enthusiasm,
I anticipated some sort of collision,
into on coming vehicles…
This behaviour begs for inquiry,
into the question of,
How’s my driving???
and how to complement ‘nice tits’,
while maintaining,
a creative code,
of safety…
She's got a dime all of the time...
Note to readers: More on the Canucks and my VERY vivid dream of conversation with one of the Sedin twins about the Swedish elementary school experience when I can remember what we talked about…
Blanket statements..
I think it must be one of those great moments in a parent’s life when your children are happy,
truly happy…
And not because they got something they wanted,
like a pony or trip to Disneyland,
but just because…
Last week I was reluctant to get out of bed after a wild night of dreamtime,
that left me exhausted and aching in the bones,
when I opened my eyes to see Little Gem (almost seven) skipping down the stairs singing a made up song,
I love my life…
I love my life…
I love my mother…
I love my sister…
I love my father…
I love my step-mom…
I love myself…
I love my life…
The wind and sun are in the words you say...
I lay there as if in a dream,
a sweet dream…
Holding it right there,
right now…
And in that moment,
I believed,
[because as everyone knows with parenting, the winds (last night I was told I was hideous…) can change in a second,
and there is nothing like raising a child that can engage you in an ongoing process of egoic deconstruction]
that I am a good enough mother…
And for back up,
just in case I forgot,
a few nights later I was scratching Starshine (10 yrs) on her back,
as she was falling asleep,
and she said,
Mama, I am so happy…
I asked her,
Why are you so happy???
She answered,
I am happy because of how everything works out…
I am happy with the soccer I played tonight…
I am happy with my friends right now,
and I am happy with how everything is at school…
I said,
I’m glad for that…
It’s interesting how two years ago you were so anxious to move to another school,
that I was willing to go to court to fight for that…
She said,
Well I did want to move,
and I needed to,
but then when the new principal arrived,
everything changed…
The school felt so much better…
I asked,
What is it that he does that is so different from who was there before?
Starshine laid it all out,
The other principal and vice-principal were oblivious to what was going on in the school and with the children…
But this one knows what is going on in the school all of the time…
I see him in our classroom at least three times a day,
and not just at lunch…
He’s there when our teacher is there…
He really knows what is going on,
and he knows every single student…
That is pretty amazing,
for one person,
a principal,
to know every single student…
And he and our vice-principal work really well together…
I can see it…
They make things happen,
and it feels good…
And that is part of why I am so happy…
Note to principals:
Just like Alain Vigneault—
That’s why you have training camp,
to sort things out and put the best lines together—
and his Canucks,
you need to think about what you’re doing,
and what is important,
because whether children have the words to articulate,
or not,
they know how they feel…
And as the captain sailing the ship you have a responsibility to BE THERE,
and to really get to know your fish,
in all their complexity…
Building the bridge as you walk on it...
Canuck'd 