November 2009 Archives
When I was in high school in Watervliet, New York, I had friends who lived on Easy Street in Maplewood, a small enclave of the town populated mostly by Russian-Americans. (It was because of this delightful community of Eastern Europeans that my school was one of only two, I believe, high schools in New York State that offered Russian as a language option.) But I digress, per usual. (Hey, cut me some slack: it's the holidays, and I'm in the process of my annual hibernation. I can't physically just curl up and sleep 'til the first day of Spring--which, in my world, is Opening Day of Belmont's Spring Meet--so I start sentences about one topic and meander through the woods, always ending up where I intended to go...but the circuitous route seems more interesting when I'm weighed down by the heaviness of Winter's spiritual and physical saddlepack.)
Ah, yes. Easy Street. I wanted to live on Easy Street. Who didn't? Easy Street is the mythical place where life is sweet: all needs are met. Love abounds. Friendships flourish, and there's always a helping hand. Many Americans work like dogs for 40 years, hoping to at least retire to Easy Street, if they can't figure out how to do it earlier in Life.
If you're a horse, getting to Easy Street is often harder. When you don't have thumbs, you have to depend on the kindness of others to provide for you. Birds are lacking that fifth digit, but they manage to forage and build cozy nests and find all the food they need. But horses are another story. For some reason, many humans feel a need to starve, beat or otherwise be cruel to horses. Why, I've so often wondered angrily, are so many people intentionally rotten to God's most beautiful creatures? We've heard entirely too many stories recently of horses in the hundreds, found starved to death or near-death. Horses who've been beaten with chains, left to bleed out. I believe, truly, that animal cruelty of all kinds--but most notably on the part of those who torture or abandon horses--stems from an innate jealousy of the archetypal Horse.
The Horse in archetype represents strength, consummate beauty, speed and otherworldly, innate Wisdom...
Well, Dear Readers,
This may not start out as the happiest blog you've ever read, but hopefully it will help you to start a new tradition, and thereby add something of substance and joy to your holiday season.
I just found out that a beloved friend, Sylvia Bauersfeld, died last weekend. I loved Sylvia. "Gee," as she was known to those who love her, was a great woman, a lady who was surrounded by love and joy every minute of her life--precisely because she gave these things abundantly to everyone who ever knew her.
Gee came into my Life at a tragic moment: 14 years ago this past June, my own beloved Mother died. Gee's Granddaughter, Kristy, was our Hospice Volunteer. Kristy was no ordinary 18-year-old: when Hospice told me that they were sending a teenager to volunteer in our Home, I was disappointed. Within one minute of meeting Kristy, I knew that she was wise, and kind and self-aware far beyond her tender years...
Upon meeting Sophie Watts, the challenge is on, to not like her or be impressed by her lengthy personal and professional resume. Tall, svelte, blonde and crisp, she epitomizes the image of the consummate equestrian. In black pencil jeans, black riding boots, black blazer and white Oxford-collared shirt, Watts is breathtakingly attractive. A fan of Thoroughbreds and the sport of racing them, she is as comfortable on the backstretch as in the Clubhouse. She's the kind of beautiful that makes insecure women want to hate her because they feel inferior, just by virtue of the fact that she exists.
But once she flashes her open smile and her eyes twinkle with glee at something that tickled her fancy--all such thoughts melt like the Spring snows. And because she's brilliant, genuine, caring and sincere--it quickly becomes impossible to harbor any feelings for Watts other than the strong desire to become her friend and colleague.
For those who judge a book by its cover, Watts may offer a challenge: perfect people are especially difficult to love for those with ego problems. And Watts does come across as being perfect, in spite of the fact that she's very real, and extraordinarily kind.
Once you get past her outward classic demeanor--it takes about one minute--you want to know more about this astonishingly accomplished woman.
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