Let Go! Let Grow!

It was March when Oklahoma Sunshine Magic came to us. I lay on my belly on the south side of the north pond here on The Ranch. The sun had barely peeked over the horizon when she came. Kanoa had picked the perfect spot for the birth of her second foal. Tahos, the father of this foal, was sired by a Grand Champion American Saddlebred but had been lead-poisoned as a colt. The vet encouraged us to neuter him. He hated the process, and fought it harder than any horse I’d ever seen. We were sure we’d neutered him early enough, so Oklahoma Sunshine Magic was a surprise. She came thirteen months after Tahos was “proud cut.”

I lay quietly close by while Kanoa ate the afterbirth and licked Oklahoma to her feet. Already the foal’s mane and tail were flaxen blonde and she had a white star on her forehead. Her coat and mane were curly. She took a few wobbly steps and then turned with full intention and walked directly to me. She stopped short of my face and looked deeply into my eyes. I saw my very soul reflected back through those big brown eyes, and in that moment, I was filled with light and love. I cried from the deepest well of joy. Intuitively I knew that this was a touch from Heaven. No doctrine had ever been able to touch this place of love in me. I knew immediately that her name was “Oklahoma Sunshine Magic.”

I’ve had lots of horses, but never one like Oklahoma. I know for sure she loved people more than oats and grain. We “free ranged” all our livestock on The Ranch so she followed me everywhere I went. We lay in the sunshine and napped together. She followed me to the garden to pick peas and only ate what she was offered. When I sat on the water troughs, she put her front foot in my lap like a dog wanting to be petted. She even made several attempts to sit in my lap. Wearing a halter and being led was “old hat” to her. She seemed too long for the day that she’d be old enough to carry me, riding free in the wind. I wondered what warrior name I’d give her after our first majestic ride of abandon. I would never know that name or take that ride.

It was the summer after Oklahoma’s birth that I left the security of university tenure to strike out on my own. I had only $3,000 in the bank when I decided to go into business on my own. That was hardly enough to pay my bills for the month and left nothing to front a business venture. The decision was a difficult one.

My parents had been living with me while my mother recuperated from her leg injury. I felt responsible for their wellbeing. I had also believed that I’d only be able to pursue my dreams when there was adequate money in the bank, a belief I defied the evening I decided to leap into the unknown.

It was sunset and I sat rocking on my favorite deck swing. The constant squeak of the swing paced my internal dialogue about the economy. It was lousy. Gas prices were up, jobs were scarce. Folks just didn’t have much money. Logically it seemed like a crazy time to even consider leaving a secure job. Somewhere in the midst of my internal blithering, I heard my “familiar voice,” the one that speaks from my heart. “Embrace your passion. Follow your heart.” I decided to visit the bank and study my finances and investments.

It took me two weeks to itemize all my possessions and approximate their value: two weeks and six single-spaced pieces of paper. I had decided to see what I’d be worth if I had to liquidate my assets to survive. Essentially, I was saying good-bye to everything, as I checked items off the list. I knew the bottom line: launching out on my own could cost everything. As I let go of lifetime possessions in my mind, the risk became easier and easier.

My brass bed was a tough one to relinquish, but not nearly so difficult as Ringo Starr, my thirty-year-old paint horse. After several conversations and long rides with him, I was able to add his name to the long list of possible assets to liquidate.

The process was a grueling one for me, but very cleansing. When I finished I was free to “live my dreams.” No fear of loss could stop me. Oklahoma Sunshine Magic’s name was the only thing I did not put on my list. She had become the very mirror of my soul, the one thing I had to keep for myself. A woman named Peggy had made that very clear to me. Oklahoma I would keep, no matter what.

Peggy came to The Ranch that June. She was a middle-aged social worker from Chicago. Her body had taken the form of a question mark—stooped shoulders, extended neck, pop belly. I had noticed that body posture on lots of folks who don’t normally take risks. She had a lot of questions, but she rarely “lived into” the answers.

“I’ve never walked a path alone,” she told me one day.

“Well walk!” I replied pointing to the miles of open countryside. “Pick a path and walk it alone!”

I knew that only by living the metaphor of “walking alone” could she code it into her nervous system and thus make it available to her mind. Whatever she was to do uniquely in the universe would require a pattern of walking alone.

Peggy accepted my challenge and turned to embark on the first path she ever intentionally walked alone. She was gone well over an hour. The walk that Peggy took was not just a casual stroll in the woods. Each step was taken without her husband, her children, her friends, her colleagues. She circled out and around the rolling hills of Oklahoma, by the ponds and thickets, and through the dense forest of black jacks and cottonwood trees. She came back to linger in the peach and apple orchard to the north.

The orchard was in full bloom. Newness and sweetness surrounded her. Abundance was the promise of the “walk-alone.” She breathed in the aroma of fullness and new life. She stood tall and straight inside the ecstasy of her walk-alone.

“Alone!” The word hit her and reverberated in her ears. “If I walk my path, will I be alone?”

The answer came just in time to stop her tears; a gentle nudge in the back, a surprise visit, a promise! “If you walk your path alone, you’ll not be alone.” It was Oklahoma Sunshine Magic. She stood waiting for the perfect moment to sneak up behind Peggy. It was as if Oklahona was saying, “Surprise! You’re not alone!”

Peggy was ecstatic and ran to share her discovery. Then came the second surprise. About a hundred yards down the trail back to The Ranch house, Peggy paused to investigate the “patting” noise behind her. Again, it was Oklahoma, following her.

Peggy flew into my arms with joyful tears rolling down her face. “No one has ever followed me!” she exclaimed.

“Hey, Girl! You ain’t been goin’ anywhere,” came my teasing retort. Peggy’s tears and my own all became blurred as I turned to find my wonderful horse and thank Oklahoma for her gift.

I shall never forget the walk to embrace Oklahoma that day. The wind dried my tears as I strode, tall and straight to the north pasture. My body seemed to lose weight as I glided closer and closer to Oklahoma. She seemed to glow on the hill. Her soft brown eyes fixed on mine once again, piercing my soul. Music was playing like I’ve never heard before. I was in the music. I was the music. That was the first time I thought I heard the angels sing. It would not be my last. I embraced Oklahoma and in so doing embraced the All-that-is! I embraced the One and the Whole. I embraced all of life.

Oklahoma Sunshine Magic did not go on my list!

November was a cold, blustery winter night. The wind was blowing hard and long and strong. I lay shivering next to Oklahoma. We were both buried in hay for warmth. For seven days we had battled against a rare virus destined to take her life. For seven days I had cried defiance at any god who would make such a short loan of such a great gift. People from all over North America knew Oklahoma and loved her. She was only eight months old.

A rat that carried the fatal virus had crawled into our local granary and pooped. That grain was packaged up and sold at our local feed store. I brought many sacks of grain home to feed to my nine horses. Oklahoma ate that one fatal piece of grain. A rat and a horse would be my teachers of the greatest lesson of all.

As Oklahoma sucked her dying breath, she spoke through me. “Why?” I cried, and she seemed to reply, “Everything, Cloud! Everything! Cling to nothing! Your gift must be free of clinging.”

As it turned out, the only thing that I was unwilling to let go of in order to follow my dream was the only thing that I lost.

Let go and let Grow.