FOUR HORSES TWO WOMEN
A Story of Connection
By: Kathy Moffatt, Canada
Denali & Echo
Two Horses Leave
Into Spirit world
Two horses in Connection
Herd flows into grief
The fact that it was his heart that gave out, is not lost on me. His heart was broken after his best friend Echo, crossed into the realm of horse spirits six months ago. He was grieving, and I felt he was searching. Sometimes I would find him looking over the fields, ears pricked up like he was seeing something. He seemed lonely even with other horses around. He wasn’t sure who to buddy up with. It wasn’t like he was off all alone grieving but there was a lack of connection with his herd mates.
I would sometimes see him playing with our little miniature horse, Loki. Denali would lean his head over the round pen to be greeted by his little friend. There was a little mouth play, and then they would run around the round pen, Loki on the inside going one way, Denali on the outside going the other. The biggest horse and the littlest horse becoming friends. It was joyful to watch. The game would end, the horses would part, and go back to grazing. It made me hopeful that Denali was growing around his grief.
As I reflect on this, a strong feeling comes over me. I need to bring another horse into the herd. Horse or horses? I can’t tell. Where did that come from? My mind says no, it is too soon. The herd is already disrupted. They need time, and do I really “need” more horses? I continue to feel this strong sensation in my heart. There are horses out there that need you. I see a woman attached to some horses.
I push my heart aside. I don’t have time for these feelings. There are practical things I need to do. I need to go to my herd. They were still in the barn and they needed to be turned out. I need to arrange for Denali’s burial.
I go to the barn. The barn is quiet. Usually, the horses whinny when I walk in. I feel the emptiness. I take each horse, one by one and walk them by the stall where Denali’s body lay. Each one of them pauses and sniffs the air. I pause and give them each a moment. I feel the collective grief flowing into my heart.
Once they are all out, I watch. They are quiet except for Keenan. He is trotting around calling. In our herd dynamic since Echo left, Keenan stepped into the leader role with Denali as his understudy. Keenan was clearly searching for Denali. I feel sadness moving into my heart. I hold space for Keenan as he continues to search and call while I hold back tears. After a few minutes, Keenan settles and finds his other herd mates. As I start to breathe, my emotions settle and turn back to do what I need to do for Denali.
The next morning, the sensation is back in my heart. I see Echo and Denali in my mind. There is a horse or horses that need to come. It is not audible. It is a clear knowing that is coming from the horses. I must admit I question myself, but, in that moment, I also reflect on how following my intuition over the past couple of years has brought me to amazing places. I listen. Little did I know the profound connection they were guiding me to.
Two Horses Leave
Into Spirit world
Two horses in Connection
Herd flows into grief
The fact that it was his heart that gave out, is not lost on me. His heart was broken after his best friend Echo, crossed into the realm of horse spirits six months ago. He was grieving, and I felt he was searching. Sometimes I would find him looking over the fields, ears pricked up like he was seeing something. He seemed lonely even with other horses around. He wasn’t sure who to buddy up with. It wasn’t like he was off all alone grieving but there was a lack of connection with his herd mates.
I would sometimes see him playing with our little miniature horse, Loki. Denali would lean his head over the round pen to be greeted by his little friend. There was a little mouth play, and then they would run around the round pen, Loki on the inside going one way, Denali on the outside going the other. The biggest horse and the littlest horse becoming friends. It was joyful to watch. The game would end, the horses would part, and go back to grazing. It made me hopeful that Denali was growing around his grief.
As I reflect on this, a strong feeling comes over me. I need to bring another horse into the herd. Horse or horses? I can’t tell. Where did that come from? My mind says no, it is too soon. The herd is already disrupted. They need time, and do I really “need” more horses? I continue to feel this strong sensation in my heart. There are horses out there that need you. I see a woman attached to some horses.
I push my heart aside. I don’t have time for these feelings. There are practical things I need to do. I need to go to my herd. They were still in the barn and they needed to be turned out. I need to arrange for Denali’s burial.
I go to the barn. The barn is quiet. Usually, the horses whinny when I walk in. I feel the emptiness. I take each horse, one by one and walk them by the stall where Denali’s body lay. Each one of them pauses and sniffs the air. I pause and give them each a moment. I feel the collective grief flowing into my heart.
Once they are all out, I watch. They are quiet except for Keenan. He is trotting around calling. In our herd dynamic since Echo left, Keenan stepped into the leader role with Denali as his understudy. Keenan was clearly searching for Denali. I feel sadness moving into my heart. I hold space for Keenan as he continues to search and call while I hold back tears. After a few minutes, Keenan settles and finds his other herd mates. As I start to breathe, my emotions settle and turn back to do what I need to do for Denali.
The next morning, the sensation is back in my heart. I see Echo and Denali in my mind. There is a horse or horses that need to come. It is not audible. It is a clear knowing that is coming from the horses. I must admit I question myself, but, in that moment, I also reflect on how following my intuition over the past couple of years has brought me to amazing places. I listen. Little did I know the profound connection they were guiding me to.
Connection
Heart space sensation
Intuition arriving
Feeling connections
I decided to call a friend who runs a horse sanctuary. What can that hurt? It’s just a phone call. I choose to let it unfold as it will. I told her what I was thinking, or more correctly, what my body was telling me to do. She does not question me. She put me in touch with a woman she knows who helps re-home horses.
Life circumstances sometimes have people needing to re-home their horses. Selling them is not always the best option. Sometimes, they end up in places that are less than ideal. Sometimes, that means heading to auction. Denali jumps into my mind, reminding me that he was rescued from the fate of the auction block.
I contacted the woman recommended to me. Her name is Rebecca. On the phone, I feel this strong caring and a real sense of purpose in her. We have a lovely conversation. She asks me why I am looking for a horse. I tell her the long story about Denali, about Echo, and the herd. The tone in her voice lifts. She gets it. She seems excited and immediately tells me about a woman she knows whose life circumstances are shifting. She has a lovely gelding named Buddy. She said he would be perfect. My body starts to resonate, but my mind says, “This is too fast”.
I think again, this is just an exploration, what can it hurt, so I listen to what my body is telling me, take the contact information, and send a text to the woman who has the horse. She responds almost immediately. This whole situation is taking on a momentum of its own. I roll with it. She sends me pictures of Buddy as well as some background on him. He is a twenty-year-old healthy, solid, quarter horse with lots of training. I open the photo. I pause. I feel a warm rush and immediate connection. He is black with soft brown eyes like Denali and has a beautiful, strong face with features like Echo.
Universe, you have my attention. I asked her when a good time would be to have a conversation, and we set up a call for the next day. Little did I know how this conversation would transcend the discussion of horses and shift into an intimate conversation about a shared motherhood experience.
Heart space sensation
Intuition arriving
Feeling connections
I decided to call a friend who runs a horse sanctuary. What can that hurt? It’s just a phone call. I choose to let it unfold as it will. I told her what I was thinking, or more correctly, what my body was telling me to do. She does not question me. She put me in touch with a woman she knows who helps re-home horses.
Life circumstances sometimes have people needing to re-home their horses. Selling them is not always the best option. Sometimes, they end up in places that are less than ideal. Sometimes, that means heading to auction. Denali jumps into my mind, reminding me that he was rescued from the fate of the auction block.
I contacted the woman recommended to me. Her name is Rebecca. On the phone, I feel this strong caring and a real sense of purpose in her. We have a lovely conversation. She asks me why I am looking for a horse. I tell her the long story about Denali, about Echo, and the herd. The tone in her voice lifts. She gets it. She seems excited and immediately tells me about a woman she knows whose life circumstances are shifting. She has a lovely gelding named Buddy. She said he would be perfect. My body starts to resonate, but my mind says, “This is too fast”.
I think again, this is just an exploration, what can it hurt, so I listen to what my body is telling me, take the contact information, and send a text to the woman who has the horse. She responds almost immediately. This whole situation is taking on a momentum of its own. I roll with it. She sends me pictures of Buddy as well as some background on him. He is a twenty-year-old healthy, solid, quarter horse with lots of training. I open the photo. I pause. I feel a warm rush and immediate connection. He is black with soft brown eyes like Denali and has a beautiful, strong face with features like Echo.
Universe, you have my attention. I asked her when a good time would be to have a conversation, and we set up a call for the next day. Little did I know how this conversation would transcend the discussion of horses and shift into an intimate conversation about a shared motherhood experience.
Jill Woodley Photography
Adoption
A mother’s longing
Is it nature or nurture
Neither, it is love
The next day I called. She sounded a little overwhelmed. I could hear kids in the background. She apologized and thanked me for being flexible with the time. She told me she had four kids under six, and it was hard to find a time when there was quiet. The only time was when they were eating or sleeping. I smiled and reflected, remembering when I was a young mom with two toddlers.
I tell her, “I can’t imagine having four children under six. I used to complain about having two.” She tells me it wasn’t planned that way. They are all adopted and are two pairs of biological siblings. Separating them was unfathomable to her.
I stop.
I, too, adopted biological siblings.
My body is vibrating.
I tell her I have two adopted boys. They are also biological siblings.
There is an audible rush of air through the phone and a pause, and she says, “Oh my, really?”
I feel this instant heart connection with her. The conversation then effortlessly flows.
We talk about our adoption experiences. I had gone through the experience, now having adult children, and she was starting her journey. She shares her story, circumstances and how she came to adopt them all. She clearly wants to know my story and perspective on nature versus nurture now that my boys are adults.
I reflect on what I would have wanted to know when my boys were so small. It was such a different time with different ideas about nature, nurture, and trauma. I certainly wished I had known more about trauma. At the time there was not a great deal of research on this, particularly trauma related to abandonment and lack of human connection.
I don’t want to alarm her with information about my youngest son, who has struggled the past several years with addiction, incarceration, and homelessness. That is not something any mother wants to project forward to.
I do want to be authentic and honest, but I do not want to alarm her. I tell her an abridged version, telling her about my oldest son, who is doing well and touching on the struggles of my youngest without too much detail. Through this discussion, I discovered her children were all adopted as newborns. Mine were adopted at three years and eighteen months respectively. Her children did not lack that first six months of touch that is so important to a child’s sense of security and attachment. I reassured her of the importance of those early months of connection which, sadly, my youngest son did not receive.
Time flies, and the conversation gradually turns to a discussion about her horse Buddy and her situation. It turns out she has two horses that she needs to rehome, Buddy and his pasture mate, a mare named Zora. Suddenly, I feel a rush of sensation, and I see a flash of Echo and Denali together in my mind. A fast chatter comes into my head. This time, it is audible.
Buddy can’t go without her.
She can’t be left behind.
There is a bond that should not be broken.
Zora’s heart will break.
They need to go together.
I kick the chatter out of my head, and my thinking brain takes over. I don’t need two horses. I need to be practical and not impulsive. After a little war between head and heart, I tell her I will take Buddy. I will get back to her after I figure out transportation for him.
I get off the phone and start to think about transporting him. I make a few inquiries with a couple of friends. While this is happening, my phone “pings” and there is a text from her. I open it, and there are more pictures of Buddy. I lament on how cute he is and how his name suits him. Then I open the last picture. It is one of Buddy and Zora together. They are both staring straight at the camera. I stare at the photograph. Buddy is Zora’s “buddy”. I feel their bond in my heart. She would be lost without him. I see it in her eyes. I can’t separate them.
A mother’s longing
Is it nature or nurture
Neither, it is love
The next day I called. She sounded a little overwhelmed. I could hear kids in the background. She apologized and thanked me for being flexible with the time. She told me she had four kids under six, and it was hard to find a time when there was quiet. The only time was when they were eating or sleeping. I smiled and reflected, remembering when I was a young mom with two toddlers.
I tell her, “I can’t imagine having four children under six. I used to complain about having two.” She tells me it wasn’t planned that way. They are all adopted and are two pairs of biological siblings. Separating them was unfathomable to her.
I stop.
I, too, adopted biological siblings.
My body is vibrating.
I tell her I have two adopted boys. They are also biological siblings.
There is an audible rush of air through the phone and a pause, and she says, “Oh my, really?”
I feel this instant heart connection with her. The conversation then effortlessly flows.
We talk about our adoption experiences. I had gone through the experience, now having adult children, and she was starting her journey. She shares her story, circumstances and how she came to adopt them all. She clearly wants to know my story and perspective on nature versus nurture now that my boys are adults.
I reflect on what I would have wanted to know when my boys were so small. It was such a different time with different ideas about nature, nurture, and trauma. I certainly wished I had known more about trauma. At the time there was not a great deal of research on this, particularly trauma related to abandonment and lack of human connection.
I don’t want to alarm her with information about my youngest son, who has struggled the past several years with addiction, incarceration, and homelessness. That is not something any mother wants to project forward to.
I do want to be authentic and honest, but I do not want to alarm her. I tell her an abridged version, telling her about my oldest son, who is doing well and touching on the struggles of my youngest without too much detail. Through this discussion, I discovered her children were all adopted as newborns. Mine were adopted at three years and eighteen months respectively. Her children did not lack that first six months of touch that is so important to a child’s sense of security and attachment. I reassured her of the importance of those early months of connection which, sadly, my youngest son did not receive.
Time flies, and the conversation gradually turns to a discussion about her horse Buddy and her situation. It turns out she has two horses that she needs to rehome, Buddy and his pasture mate, a mare named Zora. Suddenly, I feel a rush of sensation, and I see a flash of Echo and Denali together in my mind. A fast chatter comes into my head. This time, it is audible.
Buddy can’t go without her.
She can’t be left behind.
There is a bond that should not be broken.
Zora’s heart will break.
They need to go together.
I kick the chatter out of my head, and my thinking brain takes over. I don’t need two horses. I need to be practical and not impulsive. After a little war between head and heart, I tell her I will take Buddy. I will get back to her after I figure out transportation for him.
I get off the phone and start to think about transporting him. I make a few inquiries with a couple of friends. While this is happening, my phone “pings” and there is a text from her. I open it, and there are more pictures of Buddy. I lament on how cute he is and how his name suits him. Then I open the last picture. It is one of Buddy and Zora together. They are both staring straight at the camera. I stare at the photograph. Buddy is Zora’s “buddy”. I feel their bond in my heart. She would be lost without him. I see it in her eyes. I can’t separate them.
Buddy & Zora
Two Horses Come
The horses need you.
Follow your intuition.
They come together.
I feel the presence of Echo and Denali. I sense their “knowing”. I reflect on how heartbroken Denali was when Echo died. He was so lost without him. Horses may not think the way humans do, but they clearly share the same emotions. Denali’s emotions were grief and sadness. After Denali died, I knew he was with Echo. I could see them. I could feel their energy and their presence around the stable. I am feeling it right now. They are a bonded pair in the spirit world, energetically anchored to us and the herd. It was clear what I needed to do.
I contacted Buddy and Zora’s’ human again. I told her that I couldn’t separate them. I would take them both if she were willing. She was delighted. She shared with me she didn’t want to separate them either, but felt she did not have much choice. I could feel such gratitude in her. I felt a rush of joy.
Once off the phone, I remember feeling this strong sense of peace. I reflected on my adoption experience. We adopted two inseparable brothers many years ago. She adopted children as well, two sets of inseparable siblings. Two mothers had found a connection through the adoption of humans and horses. ~*~
The horses need you.
Follow your intuition.
They come together.
I feel the presence of Echo and Denali. I sense their “knowing”. I reflect on how heartbroken Denali was when Echo died. He was so lost without him. Horses may not think the way humans do, but they clearly share the same emotions. Denali’s emotions were grief and sadness. After Denali died, I knew he was with Echo. I could see them. I could feel their energy and their presence around the stable. I am feeling it right now. They are a bonded pair in the spirit world, energetically anchored to us and the herd. It was clear what I needed to do.
I contacted Buddy and Zora’s’ human again. I told her that I couldn’t separate them. I would take them both if she were willing. She was delighted. She shared with me she didn’t want to separate them either, but felt she did not have much choice. I could feel such gratitude in her. I felt a rush of joy.
Once off the phone, I remember feeling this strong sense of peace. I reflected on my adoption experience. We adopted two inseparable brothers many years ago. She adopted children as well, two sets of inseparable siblings. Two mothers had found a connection through the adoption of humans and horses. ~*~
