It happened instantaneously. I could have explored that lifetime for hours, but I focused in on that event. I saw myself, a man, get on the horse and ride away. I was, at the same time, watching myself, and being the man on the back of the horse. I saw the horse stop suddenly, being tossed like sack of potatoes, and felt the snap in my neck. It was quite strange, sent a spasm through me. I focused on love, holding a space of love in my heart for the horse, breathing slowly and deeply to integrate the feelings with the awareness of what had happened. I breathed love to my suddenly-freed spirit, adjusting to my new form.
From a perspective much further back, I saw the tribe’s grief, saw it coagulate into something heavy and sticky … I breathed Love to it, to them, I beamed my essence and my presence to them, and with the beautiful, powerful energy from the crystal sphere I was holding, transmuted it all into clear light. I drifted for a bit in that light, it was beautiful, clear, I felt weightless, floating in this bliss. I came back to present time and space, used the sphere to anchor the energy in my heart chakra, and opened my eyes.
The sun was still shining down on me, the pasture in front of me was starting to fade from green to brown. The barn on my left beckoned me, but I wasn’t quite ready. You see, my then-husband and I were renting an old farmhouse which came with 2 horses, and were responsible for their care. I was unable to even go in the barn, so my carpenter husband had to do it all. I felt badly, but was unable to help. Now, in my new state, I felt different, something had surely shifted, and a new reality had been created. I gave it a couple hours to settle in, to take hold. Then I walked out to the barn.
Inside it was quiet and dark, the horses were in their stalls. The smell of hay pleased me, the warmth of the animals palpable. I took a deep breath, and felt fine. I took a few more, standing there, introducing my energy into the space quietly, unobtrusively, I hoped. I watched for the tell-tale first sign of allergic response—the tickling in my nasal passages as my sinuses get ready to explode. Nothing there! Bronchials seemed fine, no tightening or swelling. I slowly moved closer to the first stall. Boxer was a big bay. He was beautiful. He watched me, took in my energy, made a couple of quiet ppffffhhhh noises as I approached. I stood right in front of him, hands open in front of me. He nosed me with that, to me, enormous head. I scratched his forehead, ran my hand down his sleek neck, he continued to nuzzle my other hand. He knew what I needed. I breathed in his smell, felt the hair under my fingers, took it all in as completely as I could. I wanted to embrace this experience once and for all.
After a few minutes he pulled away with a chuff, and I moved down to the white horse, Bullet. Bullet was a completely different horse, I could tell. Bullet looked at me, allowed me to pet his forehead briefly, but he was all business. He knew I was just figuring him out, and really didn’t much care as long as he got what he wanted—the carrot in my hand. I broke it in half and gave it to him; he snorted his thanks. I gave the other half to Boxer who lingered over my palm a moment, lipping me gently. I stood back, looking at them both. I beamed my thanks to them, I knew they could sense my exhilaration and delight; I told them I’d be back, and that I was so grateful to them for help. From then on, I could do the barn chores. Husband still helped occasionally, but I relished the time spent with Boxer & Bullet.
OK, I can hear your question—if I cured myself of my horse allergy in 1983, what’s the problem now? Well, we only lived there a short time, and after we moved out, I had no opportunity to be near a horse for years afterwards. Daily life just didn’t include that. Probably about 7 years and a childbirth later, I took my 6-year-old son to the Lippizan Horse show in North Hero. I loved it immensely; during the break we walked around and, downwind of the animals I started to feel that tickle in my sinuses again. However, it stopped there, there was no further reaction, no wheezing. We were able to watch the rest of the show. In the ensuing years, though, I have experienced more severe reactions.
The first time Laura came to my house she was wearing her “barn” clothes, and within five minutes I was reacting badly—she had to leave her coat and pants outside on my deck, and strip off her sweater to leave by the door. It was intense. Cyndi worked on those thoughtforms yesterday, at the very end of our session. When we sat at their kitchen table for lunch, Carl came right over and hopped up in my lap. He sat down, ignored me, just as if I was his custom chair. I had to laugh. Cyndi picked him up and moved him, but a minute later he was right back there. I took it as a sign. This isn’t over. I’m ready to bring animals into my life, and into my home… now I just have to make sure my physical body agrees with me. Stay tuned!
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