The Center of Things

The sunset: a vortex
Pulling the clouds down

Out of the sky

A black hole of light

The moon, close

Rising as the sun sinks

Pivoting on some

Unseen anchor

It makes me feel like the center of things.

Overcivilized

“Horses help overcivilized people reconnect with the wisdom and rhythms of the natural world.”   —Linda Kohanov

Pete, my wintertime project horse, tried out his new bridle today.

Before deciding to work as a wrangler at Sanborn, I hadn’t been on a horse in over four years. 

I practically grew up on horseback, riding in a rigorous lesson program since I was eight, owning and caring for horses on our small acreage all throughout high school, then attending my first year of college in Missouri to pursue Equestrian Science.  Unsatisfied by the small, rural town of Fulton, Missouri, I decided I needed a healthy dose of the civilized life, so I moved into the heart of Chicago and changed my major to Nonfiction Writing.  Living on the twenty-eighth story of a downtown apartment building, I cut horses out of my life entirely and took to sitting in cafes for long hours in front of a computer, sipping tea and glancing over the top of my books in an aloof, sophisticated manner.  I’d convinced myself that I loved the city, that I didn’t miss my country-girl upbringing, and that this new lifestyle was making me a better person.

Meanwhile, sitting in the library or any number of my favorite coffee shops, my hands lost their calluses.  There was no dirt beneath my fingernails.  My body became soft; my brain was the only defined muscle.  Then, slowly, without my awareness, it became over-defined.  I found myself unable to fall asleep.  My writing assignments were never good enough for me, even though my stellar 4.0 GPA would seem to prove otherwise.  I maintained the maximum course load, worked part-time, ran a writer’s group, and served as the president of a club I’d started with my roommate.  I worked insanely on my writing, obsessing in front of a computer, researching articles online until I couldn’t see straight.  I didn’t know it at the time, but there was a lack of something in my life I attempted to fill that void by trying harder, doing more, being smarter.  Still feeling empty, I began to turn inward, withdrawing from friends and family.  There were some days I only got out of bed to feed my cat.

In my last year of college, I was diagnosed with a Generalized Anxiety Disorder and suffered severe depression.  My doctor told me that I’d be on medication for the rest of my life.  This news was debilitating; how could I be one of those people?  I’d done everything right: I’d tried my hardest, I’d gone above and beyond most of my peers.

After graduation, I moved back in with my parents, unable to afford my life in the city.  Things did not improve.  I just wanted to be happy, but didn’t know how.  My mom asked me one day why I didn’t go visit the stable I’d taken lessons at as a kid.  I’d been unconsciously avoiding the barns I’d grown up at, for fear of the feeling of loss that gripped me each time I happened upon even so much as a picture of a horse.  The idea was unappealing.  But then she mentioned Sanborn, a western camp she’d learned about through a friend at work.  Apparently there was horseback riding there.  It was near my mom and dad’s new retirement home in Colorado.  We set up a visit for late December.

Meanwhile, I went back to the barn.  I didn’t even ride, just stood outside the stalls, gazing in at horses munching hay.  The sounds and sweet, dusty smell enveloped me.  Suddenly, I felt home.  The void in my heart felt full again, and my future seemed obvious.  I couldn’t get to Sanborn soon enough.

While working with kids and horses as a wrangler at High Trails symbolizes for me a Great Return to a life I’d rejected for something more civilized, it has also taught me much more.  In an increasingly sophisticated world, where over eighteen percent of Americans suffer from anxiety and depression in a given year, horse-human interactions serve as the best kind of medicine.  Apart from nature, there has been an over-intellectualizing of the self, a denial of the value of being present and authentic.  It’s so easy, interacting in society, to put on a mask and function as that false self.  Interacting with horses who don’t buy into the false image forces people—adults and kids alike—to be who they are, fully present, fully in the moment.  Horses inspire an authenticity that prescription medicine can’t replicate.

Getting Lune and Fiona ready for their Gymkhana event, Summer 2009

Photo by Jessie Spehar

The connections I witnessed last summer between campers and horses were profound.  There were some girls who couldn’t wait till the next time they got to ride.  It was not just some young girl fantasy coming true; it was a re-realization of the self, an invitation to exist spontaneously, creatively.  Perhaps they could not articulate it, but those girls felt more alive—more themselves—in the presence of horses.

Looking back, I wasn’t wrong when I assumed I’d become a more complete person by moving into the city and immersing myself in what I perceived to be important.  I needed to witness the darkness of a life where images of busyness, over-achievement and hyper-intellect are so heavily praised, so that I could find a balance and become aware of how fortunate a life with horses truly is.  Now, looking forward to the enhancement of next summer’s riding program (I will be Head Wrangler for the girls camp), I am eager to share this horse-wisdom with the girls.  It is my hope that they, too, can experience and cultivate an awareness of the grounding effect horses have on our species, so that they can embark on their worldly pursuits as authentic, joyful, and whole people.

One happy camper!

If you desire more information about the horse-human dynamic, I urge you to take a look at Linda Kohanov’s nonfiction book, Riding Between the Worlds.  It has been tremendously enlightening for me.

My Yoga Class Opens to the Public

Just a quick note of exciting news:

The yoga class I have been teaching since November at The Nature Place is now, officially, open to the public!  Do you know of anyone who lives in Florissant or Woodland Park, Colorado?  Let them know and spread the word.

Every Tuesday and Thursday
6:30pm-7:30pm
The Nature Place Conference Center, Florissant Colorado
Bristlecone Conference Room, downstairs
Yoga mats, props, and restrooms provided
Contact JessieYoga@gmail.com

My Memory is a Child's Toy

My past
Viewed through a kalideoscope
Does not always swirl, colorful.

Pieces get caught
In the internal mechanisms
Of this child's toy
So that the sight consists of fragments of fragments
With others left out, forever hiding in dark corners.

I like to practice remembering.

Puzzling these pieces together
Aware that my construction of the past--
As I shift, slowly, through fragmented colors--
Won't match your's: it can't.
Nor should it.

I used to be content
To use the aid (the crutch?)
Of photographs and words
In my practice of remembering.

However

I have noticed this:

Taking the camera away from my face

Strengthens the memory muscle

And so do my friends:

We take moments from the day

To delve into the past
And watch the show.

IAM Meditation Technique

Meditation eluded me for a long time.

I was initially drawn to yoga (and not meditation) because my busy, anxiety-ridden mind needed more, at first, than just the breath to focus on in order to become still.  Yoga is meditation in motion, breathing through postures to practice awareness.  In classes back in Chicago, once I flowed through an hour and a half practice and ended in the final relaxation pose, Savasana, my mind quieted enough to rest in stillness.  However, the idea of waking up an hour before I started my day to sit with my legs crossed and my eyes closed was just not working for me.

Whenever I did try meditation, I'd either fall back asleep or I couldn't slow my mind enough:  My hip hurt, my back was tired, I-really-should-write-that-down-before-I-forget ... thoughts seemed to speed up during my meditation practice, and before I knew it I was jumping out of my skin, far from the blissful zenned-out state I was trying to attain.

Compared to when I started practicing yoga six years ago, my ability to sit in stillness had improved.  Still, I felt I needed guidance.

A few months back, my great friend told me about an inexpensive meditation training she would attend in December.  My ears perked up.  It was supposed to be a simple technique that anyone could do, offered for free (aside from the cost for lunches) as long as practitioners committed to practicing every day for one month after training.  An easy meditation class for free?  Why not?  I signed up to go to Boulder with my friend for the two-day training.

It has since been just over one month since I was trained in the IAM Meditation Technique.  The training was simple, concise, and thorough: it lasted two days, and an ayurvedic lunch (sooo delicious!) was provided.  The meditation practice only lasts twenty five minutes each morning, and surprisingly, I haven't felt drowsy during meditation.  I actually look forward to waking up in the morning and starting my day this way.  Who knew meditation could be so accessible?

This technique was originated by Amma, who, according to the Amma.org website, "has inspired and started innumerable humanitarian services. She has earned international recognition for her outstanding contributions to the world community. She is recognized as an extraordinary spiritual leader by the United Nations and by the people all over the world."  The training was led by an authorized teacher of the technique, and upon completion of the training, I received a certification card.

The practice begins with some simple stretches to awaken the body, followed by various breathing techniques and visualizations.  This helped me, personally, with the issue of trying to clear my mind of thoughts.  There are steps throughout the practice that guide the mind, focusing on various visuals as the practice progresses.  And then it's done in twenty minutes!

The benefits are astounding.  Obviously, I've started writing again.  I am more in touch with my creativity, more aware of the interconnectedness of ideas and thoughts I encounter during the day.  I see my life from the perspective of the witness: I'm less affected by the things that happen to me and more able to act from a place of intelligence.  I have clarity as I greet the day: life is more colorful, more vibrant.  I feel capable of taking on responsibilities that I had been avoiding before.  I can balance the events of my day more effectively.  I feel more intuitive, solving problems with a quick efficiency that I haven't felt, maybe ever.  I'm in the zone!

This meditation technique is "a synthesis," according to the website, "of traditional, time-tested methods suited for the current mental conditions, time constraints and needs of modern man."  It's the busy-person's guide to quick and effective meditation.  Corporations train their employees in this technique, and it is often offered to college students to increase concentration, calmness, and productivity.  Testimonials on the site show the variety of benefits for all sorts of people.

IAM is not, I learned, solely for spiritual people or those who are into yoga.  There is no religious affiliation: it is a simple mental practice.  However, like yoga, this practice can enhance whatever spiritual affiliation a person has.

It is now about a week past my obligatory month of practice, and I show no signs of stopping.  I would invite anyone interested to find a class nearby and see what benefits it can bring you!

Sanborn Blogging

I have posted a new entry on the Sanborn Western Camps blog titled Raven Raindrops, where I write about the value of dedicating three minutes out of the day take yourself on a hike, even if it's just down the block.  Check it out!

Also, the No Child Left Inside Act is up for reconsideration, and we all have an opportunity to let the Board of Education know that outdoor education should have a place in public schools.  Click here for more details!

Exciting Writing

When it rains, it pours! 

This first week of 2010 has brought tidal waves of changes in the writing realm! 

I have officially started writing my book.  After almost an entire year of not writing (aside from my daily personal journal entries), I finally feel the strong pull to craft something big.  I needed this idle time, what author Linda Kohanov brought to light in her Way of the Horse as the concept of wu wei: the Taoist principle of non-doing.  This long period of non writing cleared my mind of self imposed expectations, limitations, and old writing habits that had stripped the joy from my process.  While I battled with a critical voice telling me that I should be writing, I trusted that it would come when it was ready.

It seems perfectly serendipitous.  During this lull of winter, when I nanny during the day and teach yoga two evenings a week, there’s so much time and space for writing.  My process is now supported fully by my yoga practice and my twice-weekly horseback rides on Pete through the untouched snow.  I’ve outlined my book—a collection of nonfiction essays organized by various places (like Little Blue, Hi Tor, the High Trails lodge, the barn) throughout these magnificent 6,000 acres—and I have already, just this week, roughed out two entire chapters.  I feel like my leaky faucet is now a torrential waterfall … and it shows no signs of stopping!

I was invited this week to contribute to the Sanborn Western Camps blog, sharing musings on camp life, the importance of outdoor education, kids, horses, nature, and the outdoors.  I’ll keep you updated as I post to that blog.

Additionally, I found a writing competition while perusing the Yoga Journal website last night to look up some poses for my class.  Yoga Journal is hosting a blog contest, the winner of which will contribute to the YJ blog for six months.  This would be a dream come true, opening up a conscious dialogue as I observe how yoga affects all aspects of my daily life and the lives of those around me.  I am where I am today because of yoga, I use yogic techniques in my teaching of horseback riding to both kids and adults, and now I’m teaching yoga at The Nature Place for the season.  This blog would chronicle the exciting outdoorsy life of Jess as I teach outdoor ed, practice and teach yoga, work as a wrangler, and then (hopefully) move to Boulder and search for yoga teacher training certification! 

Wish me luck and thanks all for your continued support in my writerly endeavors.

Breathe

Tonight

the sun sets.

Its yellow illuminating Pikes Peak

as though this were its last chance

to show humans

its truest expression

of beauty.

What if it were you

with one last chance

or one last day:

What would you do

to die

fulfilled?

If it were me,

I’d show you a love

so deep

you would cry

spontaneous tears of joy

and you would be full as me.

In fact, here,

I’ll show it to you now

Open your heart to the sky

and breathe.

Sponge

I used to be a sponge
Sopping
with the wisdoms of others

Still unfulfilled,
I squeezed myself out
Dry
I disappeared
Evaporated into a sky of nothing

Just in time
I chased the sun West
My soul expanding
into this vast land

I never knew it needed so much space

Now I drip
Forming truthful rivers
deltas
an ocean:
I flow
Free

Frida's Eyebrows

I often dream
of Frida's eyebrows

Dark, unrestricted
unrestrained
but not unruly

I wonder,
pondering her grooming habits,
how her lips move
when she eats

The Sun and Moon

The sun and moon had a face-off
Their galactic staredown lasted all day
The sun, fierce, intense, blazing
The moon, calm, steady, persistent
Reflective.

At the end of the day, the sun grew weary
Allowing himself to sink slowly into sleep
While the moon smiled softly,
For she knew he would be back for more
Tomorrow.

She shines through the night.


20 December 2009