This has been the most magical summer of my life. Thanks to James and Kate, I’ve begun to understand how horses think, why they behave as they do, and how to create a loving partnership with them. Thanks to Mystic, I’ve experienced a heart-and-soul connection with a horse. He’s been my student, my teacher, my muse, and my best friend.
Mystic’s past largely remains an enigma. All I really know is that he arrived at Fiore Farms on a truck of rescue horses years ago and has clearly suffered trauma. I like to think his early years were happy and carefree: I imagine him spilling into the world as a newborn foal, a slippery white bundle of long legs and curiosity, the future wide open with possibility. He didn’t choose to be treated badly—humans made that choice for him. The good news is that rebirth is possible every day, every moment. Wounds can be healed, and tender care is a sweet salve.
Summer ends for me today because graduate school begins tomorrow. I’ll continue to write blog posts; however, they will be less frequent. I’ll play with Mystic at least once or twice a week throughout the school year, but the luxury of spending nearly every day with him is gone for now. I’m feeling the loss already, yet I have faith that we’ll find fresh rhythms and ways of being. Every loss clears the way for something new.
The poem below by Ted Hughes is in honor of Mystic, his birth, and his rebirth.