I was thinking this morning about enchantment and goodness and the desire I have to bond over beauty instead of trauma, which considering it was only 6:14am seemed quite a lot for a person to be considering.
But there was coffee and a small shaft of light beginning to make her way through the window and a book I’d just finished (I am an early riser), which all in all, made such wonderings feel not only possible but necessary. And beyond that, perhaps even normal.
Perhaps even desirable.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned about storytelling, it’s that the biggest of topics are best communicated in the smallest of details. And so, as I sat, considering what it was I wanted to share with you, my thoughts turned to the most normal, most-easily- could-be-nothing of interactions with my beloved friend Kathy’s horse, Evie.
After spending a few days in inner city Birmingham, my body met the greenery of the Welsh fields with a literal feeling of expansion. When it was time to see the horses, I eagerly clambered up the hill, admiring the blanket of oaks that fringe the edges of the track. Evie was closest to us; Kathy split off and made her way to Teazel. I stood still, taking some moments to breathe in the air.
Evie made her way towards me with such purpose and intention that I couldn’t help but stay put and smile. Her huge chocolate eyes were so strong and benevolent that the only choice was to give her my full and complete attention. In those moments, Evie and I had an in-depth conversation that required nothing more than my presence.
She did not speak to me of solutions, nor did she attempt to understand my challenges or problems. She did not identify me by name, nor talk to me of dreams and desires. She did not ask about my day. Although if I’d spoken to her of such matters, I have no doubt she would have listened.
Instead, she allowed me to rest in a deeply rooted strength that was both grounding and uplifting. It did not exist at the expense of, or the detriment to, anything or anyone. It just… was. And I allowed her to fill me up like a long, yearned for sleep at the end of a hard day.
I had nothing to offer her in return but my thanks, which itself seemed unnecessary and beyond, enough.
Evie reminded me, the only thing required for enchantment is the ability to notice that it’s happening.
Which seemed the right thing to pass on to you today.
Onwards,
Jane
