I. Life is Change/ Change is Life
It’s quite interesting, to “audit” a horse clinic. You are a part of scene, but at the same time you are in the background, since in this instance to audit means to come and watch, not receive a lesson or lessons on your horse.

I do wish I had a horse here. I erred in not insisting on brining Tyra here with me. In the meantime, I’m working very hard at taking in the big picture. This is difficult because I am not able to put theory to practice.

I also have to work hard at taking in information because clinics are social events. If you have a horse at hand then you learn what you learn and then relax, for you have learned what you have needed to learn while riding.

The arena setting (which is where most clinics take place) does enable an auditor to see how they might ride differently in that all that goes on is visible to the not so naked eye.

This is very different than trail riding where you have hills, trees, uneven terrain and low visibility. The question then is, how does one teach trail riders the finer points of mounted horsemanship?

A thought about this popped into my head this morning; I concluded that headphones for the student and teacher. This is going to change things radically in my teaching in that I’ll be able to ride behind the person ahead of me and give feedback, and vice-versa.

II. There is no Sunshine on Cloudy Days
The sky before me is a uniform gray. Wait, a closer look reveals darker patches in the lighter gray sky. A dark cloud is above my head – this dark cloud is both real and metaphorical.

I am again wondering how I might move forward horse-wise. I’ve done all I can do as far as learning about horses and horsemanship goes. So why do I want to learn more? This question is sizzling in my brain like bacon in a hot frying pan.

Inner Voice should say “Put the thought about advancement to rest,” but no, Inner Voice has gone mute, a rarity. I can’t out guess inner voice. I will just wait for it to again harangue me.

I should have a differing relationship with Inner voice. We should be buddies and have actual conversations. We do not. I’m just told when my behavior is questionable and that I need to do things differently. I seldom act accordingly. This is because while I know that Inner Voice is right that I doubt the fact that I have an Inner Voice.

So right now I’m alternating writing in this notebook and spinning around on my bucket lid. I’m watching, watching, watching, and wondering what my future holds.

III. Across the Way
My mind is going a mile a minute. I’m looking forward to the time when I’ll be able to resume living the semi-monastic lifestyle, which is writing and thinking and reading and thinking and making connections and pulling loose ends of non-connected ideas together.

But here I am, sitting under a shelter, watching others ride and tend to their Icelandic horses. Across the way, Ellen Halverson is grazing Lily, a tobiano pinto, the daughter of Vikengur, Raudi’s sire. Her head and eyes are like those of V. Her head and eyes are also like those of Raudi. Both are carrying on the tradition – both are willful and opinionated.

Across the way is the Willis’s Icelandic herd. I said to Jeanette Willis that they seem to be conversing. That is, talking with one another about who is doing what an why – and she agreed wholeheartedly, adding that really, we don’t know what they’re thinking. I’m sure that their discussion alleviates pasture innuendi – a state of being that is akin to boredom in human beings.

The last lesson of the day is now taking place. Eric Rockcastle is on Dynfari, a horse that is the color of burnt toast. So impressive, in less than a day’s time, to see the pair better work together.

Right now, I am learning so much. And right now is what matters the most.

Next: 218. 8/6/18: Outcast