I leaned over the horse trough as i threw in some hay. And with horror began to untangle my horse’s mane, while my mind flooded back to a moment long ago when I heard a story.........but this time it was different. I was there.
I stood on a grassy slope as I watched two gorgeous creatures race through the meadow. But something was different about these two horses.
They were one.... somehow attached. Strange I thought as I followed the story further - Blindness? But no, this could not be....it was to beautiful for this. It had a gorgeous mane that left a trail of glory in the wind. Its coat glistened as if it marched on silver clouds. What a beauty I thought to myself. But again my mind drifted off. Why the attachment.... the blindness? But alas the story I may never know, for they were wild and their life kept secret by freedom. But wait, can blindness be freedom?
I turned to go but another sight held me to behold yet a little longer. It was a group of cowboys. They were out to round up wild horses. I watched with bated breath as I thought of the fate of these two beautiful creatures. Headed for captivity..........or were they? The silence and beauty of the moment was broken by a whinny and then a whistle. The race was on. Cowboys or horses? A cloud of dust left me wondering. But I would not be satisfied. I rushed on to where I could see, nay rather talk to the cowboys upon their triumphant arrival.
Soon I saw the procession coming to where I was. Yes they were caught. So sad I thought to myself, it is blindness indeed. One horse guided by the other keeping its head tucked gently over the withers of the leading horse.
"What do you think he is blind from?" I asked the nearest cowboy.
"Not sure he muttered.......he won't let me see his eye. You know he might not be blind." He said with a wink as he threw a rope around his neck. I knew he would hope that this gorgeous creature wasn't blind after all that work of catching him, although to me it was pretty obvious he couldn't see.
He promised to let me know once he could tame him a little, at least enough to see his eye.
As I reflected on this while pulling out the tangles on my horse I thought of blindness. What is it I thought that keeps us so blind? How could we be leaning on other horses trying to have them guide us through this life. Freedom? Really? Was that horse really free? Is it possible to be blind and call it freedom?
Thankfully the story does not end there. It has a brighter side. Soon after the round-up it was discovered that this horse was not blind. It could see but the tangles in its beautiful mane had covered its eye so throughly with such a bunch of knots that it had made vision impossible. I stop to take in a few lessons this story brings home to my heart. The beautiful mane, the most stunning outward attraction of the horse was the very thing that caused it the most intense captivity and suffering.
Here I pause to ask. You, dear reader may want to pause and ponder this as well. In which case did he experience freedom? While he roamed the wild hills and valley blind? Or that of being captive to man with vision clear?
Once the tangles were kindly removed by his captors. He had many lessons to learn. Because to bask in his new found freedom......(that of being able to see) he must put away the inner blindness as well. He had lived to long for this to easily take place. The lessons of trust and surrender, joy and a willing heart.