Everything I Know I Learned From My Horse

I woke up this morning with a headache and a furrowed brow.  No wonder!

Global economic collapse, rioting, flooding, drought, famine, pestilence.....I'm drawn to the bad news like a moth to a flame.  Worry consumes me.  What are we to do?  Will there be another Great Recession? Another Great-er Depression?

But, after coffee and an Advil, it's time to feed before the hot morning sun comes up.

Sunda and the pony will be glad to see me.  Their hay's all gone and they're hungry.  I wonder, did they worry overnight if I would return with more food, if I would even come back at all?  Are we out of hay, for gosh sakes?  Would the drought affect hay prices this winter? Would an oil shortage make grain too expensive to feed mere "pasture ornaments" who, after all,  serve no useful purpose what-so-ever?

They're waiting patiently in their stalls, looking toward the gate for my appearance.  They nicker gently when they first see me.  The nicker turns to a whinny as I arrive, as if to say "Where's my food? Hurry up, I'm hungry. Oh, and 'Good Morning!'".

There's no signs of headaches, no furrowed brows.  Only quiet expectation for my return; joy at my re-appearance; excitement at the sound of the feed bucket; satisfaction and complete absorption as they munch away at breakfast. They eat and gently swish flies as the sun comes up over their lush pasture, wet from yesterday's rain, waiting to be grazed.

What's going on here?  It's called "living in the moment" and horses (as well as all animals) are experts at it.  Today's o.k, -  no it's more than o.k.  It's perfect.  No joy is stolen by worrying that tomorrow won't be the same.  No regret over yesterday's problems.  Yesterday is gone and today is to be savored.  If tomorrow doesn't come, well then, that's o.k. too, because  today was lived.

No, there are no headaches in the barn this morning, no furrowed brows.  Living in the moment, that's the ticket.  That's why I fought so hard to save her.  She's my "present moment", you see.

As I wash up from morning chores and  finish the left-over coffee, I notice my headache is gone.  In the mirror, I see a relaxed face.  I've recovered my equilibrium once again.  No useful purpose?  I think not.