Category Archives: horses, dogs & more

Apr10

practice makes (im)perfect

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Last week I went to see Nelson.  We are celebrating our one-year friendship anniversary.

Working with Nelson, one of the things that has eluded me pretty consistently is leading him.  He does not think that being led is a good idea.  And I don’t feel like trying to convince him of that with any kind of force is a good idea.

But last week, I set an intention to lead him.  As I got out of the car, I started to pick up the rope halter and lead, and then opted instead for a Tellington Balance rein – a piece of rope with a leather strap attached that can be buckled to create a circle.   After I groomed him, I got out the balance rein and looped it around his neck.  He was fine with that,  we have done that many times before.  I fastened it high on his neck so that about 18″ of strap was hanging down.  Then I started to walk, giving him a little tiny bit of pressure on the line as I stepped off.

To my astonishment, he started walking with me, nice as you please.  This was the day after my cat Musia died, so I was pretty tender.  I felt like crying.  We stopped and walked and stopped and walked and changed directions and wandered all over his six acre field.  No problem.

I realized that all the things I had been doing with him before had led to this.  We were practicing.  But there must have been some subtle piece that was missing – some imperfection in the practice and in my movement that didn’t tell him as clearly as I could have, THIS is what I would like us to do.

That day, I had a really clear picture of what I wanted.  I wish I could say I had no doubt.  That would not be true.   I had no expectation.  And I was OK if it didn’t work.  Practice doesn’t necessarily make perfect.  If you are practicing the wrong thing, or rehearsing the wrong state of mind, or forcing, no amount of practice will make that right.

The perfection that I practice with Nelson is this:  Our agreement is that if it is OK with him, we will go for it.  If it isn’t, we will not.  That doesn’t mean that we don’t try hard, and work through some initial resistance.  It does mean that we both have to feel successful and balanced at the end of our time together.  And yes, we do.

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Apr7

passage

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Yesterday our beloved cat Musia died.

Musia is from St. Petersberg, Russia.  She came from one of the city’s “kitten clubs” and we were told that she is Siberian.  She arrived sight unseen to us 16 years ago.  Here is the story.

My dance company was performing Ghostdance in St. Petersberg.  One evening after rehearsals, we were strolling on the Kamennoostrovsky Bridge.  As we walked we saw people were standing with boxes of kittens that they were selling.  In one box was a tiny, tiny kitten with  dot on his nose.  I was smitten.  We did not take him.  We could not find a carrier, a vet.  As we were leaving, in the airport, we saw an American family smiling happily with their Russian kitten in a carrier.  I was struck with remorse.

Over the next week, I corresponded with my Russian contact, Helen Zinchik, who actually managed to find the kitten because of his distinctive markings.  Lisa First, the festival organizer agreed to fly the kitten to JFK where we would meet her during her brief layover on the way back to Minneapolis.  At the last minute Helen called and said, “Will you take another kitten?  Her name is Musia.  I have her sister Dusia.”  Of course we would.

We would fly from Martha’s Vineyard to JFK to meet her.  Our plane was late.  As we circled over JFK, I knew the window was closing.  Finally we landed, and I raced through the airport to find Lisa.  She had five minutes before her flight.  We connected, and she handed me the carrier, a quick hug, and I ran back through the airport for our flight that was also departing momentarily.  The security machine was broken, and so (pre-2001) the agent waved me through.  I could see Musia’s black and white tufted paws waving through the carrier door.

Pam literally stood in the door of our aircraft, saying the the agitated attendants, “She’s coming, she’s coming!”  I made it, and we finally had a chance to see our new Ghostdance kittens.  Nikita was tiny, huddled in the back of the carrier, with that dot on his nose.  Musia was all fur, feet and whiskers.

Some of you may think this is a silly, extravagant story.  Perhaps.  But it also feels karmic.  These two were supposed to be with us, supposed to join our family and help to create the transition for our newly adopted seven-year old daughter.

This morning we skyped with both girls so that they could say goodbye to Musia.  One of them remembered carrying Musia around in a little cloth basket, which she endured patiently, along with being dressed in doll’s clothing, and smothered with hugs.  The other was quiet, “I love you Musia.”

She is the most equanimous cat we have ever known.  Total presence and total balance.  Thank you, Musia, thank you.

Apr5

pushing through

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I read three blogs pretty religiously:  Jon Katz, Maria Wulf, and Seth Godin.

Currently, I am reading Seth’s brilliant new eBook on education, Stop Stealing Dreams.  I am reading it in a non-linear, popcorn way – dropping into whatever jumps out at me from the index.  It is free.  Seth wants us to share it.  I am sharing it.

Since I am doing more teaching, his book is perfectly timed.   It is also perfectly aligned with my ideas about teaching, how we learn and improvisation as a crucial building block in education.  I was very excited to see “improv” in his list of courses he would like to see in schools.

Seth is brilliant.  Reading his posts is like riding, except that I am the horse.  Each post is like what we call in dressage “an aid:”  a touch of the leg here, a shift of the seat there, a half-halt that helps me to connect, direct and refresh my energy.   Each day I receive a subtle, insistent correction of direction, balance and perspective. Seth is what I call and uber-thinker, a true radical.  He lives pretty much outside of any box I can think of.  And he is inspirational.  The other day he wrote:

If your happiness is based on always getting a little more than you’ve got… then you’ve handed control over your happiness to the gatekeepers, built a system that doesn’t scale and prevented yourself from the brave work that leads to a quantum leap.

The industrial system (and the marketing regime) adore the mindset of ‘a little bit more, please’, because it furthers their power. A slightly higher paycheck, a slightly more famous college, an incrementally better car–it’s easy to be seduced by this safe, stepwise progress, and if marketers and bosses can make you feel dissatisfied at every step along the way, even better for them.

Their rules, their increments, and you are always on a treadmill, unhappy today, imagining that the answer lies just over the next hill…

All the data shows us that the people on that hill are just as frustrated as the people on your hill. It demonstrates that the people at that college are just as envious as the people at this college. The never ending cycle (no surprise) never ends.

An alternative is to be happy wherever you are, with whatever you’ve got, but always hungry for the thrill of creating art, of being missed if you’re gone and most of all, doing important work.

For several days I drove by these forsythia that had pushed themselves through the fence.  I liked the feeling of their boldness, their refusal to stay inside the lines, and the wild pattern of color and shadow they created.  That, I hope, is what I have taught my daughters.  And that is what I am learning (and teaching) now.

Apr3

guinevere

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This is Guinevere.  Guinnie is an off-the-track greyhound that we adopted from Greyhound Friends in Hopkinton, MA. She is bringing me back her favorite toy for another toss.  Look at those eyes.

Most greyhounds do not fetch.  They often do not sit because of their big haunch muscles, and many of them have no idea how to climb stairs when they first come into a home.  They will either not try at all, or try to do the whole flight at once.

Every May and October Greyhound Friends has a big greyhound reunion.  Doting owners arrive with their dogs – often multiples since it is hard to have just one greyhound.  It is an amazing sight – a huge field with hundreds of beautiful dogs.  To me, it looks like a gathering of gorgeous fairy dogs and their human attendants.

Sometime in the afternoon there is a competition.  Longest tail.  Softest coat.  Baldest butt.  Oldest.  Youngest.  Best look alikes.  And the grand finale:  best trick.  The running joke is, “And it isn’t much.”  Greyhounds do not do tricks  – or at least none that I have met.  The best trick that I have seen in twenty years of greyhounds is a prolonged sit, followed by a high five, first with the right paw and then the left.  That got a lot of applause.

We took home a lot of ribbons last fall:  Guinnie won baldest butt.  Cho won oldest.  And Guinnie came in second for best look alike.  I thought Cho should have won it with his twin – a winsome Saluki mix, but the judges gave it Guinnie and her twin.  But anyone who has a greyhound will tell you that they feel like a winner. No ribbons needed.