FINDING HEART HORSE Memoir of Survival… year later

You must declare who you are in public. Public declaration is the highest form of visioning.

Neile Donald Walsh

(That’s the quote from chapter 15.

My Soul Is Not for Sale)

Yesterday Facebook sent me a “memory”.  It was pictures from the book signing at the Hay House I Can Do It Conference in Vancouver last year..exactly a year.

Arriving home from that conference I was ill. Very, very ill with my mast cells taking over pretty much every system in my body. It was also the year of Summer in the hospital. In honour of FINDING HEART HORSE, Memoir of Survival I will post a few lines of how it all began…..

About a Horse


            I always wanted a horse. I’ve wanted a wild horse, a Palomino horse, an Appaloosa horse, a racehorse, a pony horse and even a miniature horse. I would have settled for a rocking horse, a stuffed horse or even just a picture of a horse when I was a child, but even those small pleasures were prohibited. And so it was that when I was eight years old, I gave myself my own horse, my imaginary Heart Horse.

I’ve had this strong attraction to horses for as long as I can remember. Like a magnet, they have always pulled me in and held me close. They appear in my dreams and on blank pages in my sketchbook. They calm me when I’m disturbed and excite me when I’m bored. My nose longs to inhale their warmth and my fingers crave the feel of their soft wet nuzzle. My eyes are drawn into their own dark, all-knowing eyes and I immediately feel an inexplicable connection. This must be what it feels like to be loved, I think, whenever a horse looks into my eyes.

I never want to leave their safety even if they are not real. But when they are real and standing there before me, it is all the more astounding. How can such a powerful animal be so gentle, and such a gentle beast so beautiful, I wonder.

There is a magical essence I feel when I am with a horse. It’s as if they know me and love me just the same. They see right into a person’s soul and know immediately who they are and what they need.

A horse was the only thing I ever put on my Christmas list when I was a child. It was a huge request I realized, when even the smallest desire was always denied. Gifts were considered indulgences that would only spoil a child, and toys were just distractions from my chores. When I would receive a gift from someone, it almost always disappeared, relegated to a hidden box to remain out of sight, or given to another child who was considered more deserving.

But I never gave up my quest to find a horse of my own.

more to follow …..

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