Madonna's Eye



This picture sits above my desk in my home office; when I glance up from working or writing, I see Madonna's eye.  Madonna was a horse I knew for many years, from when I was twelve and she was six, until she died when I was 30 and she was 24.  My sister, Kristen White, took this photo one summer and on the back, signed it: "Love, Kris."  Somewhere along the way, I saved some pieces of Madonna's tail hair, and they are curled between the picture and the back of its frame. 

I have lots of pictures of this mare - some of her grazing, some of me (and others) riding her, some of her and her only filly, who the breeder called Pebbles.  But I like having Madonna's eye on me - just her eye. It's a reminder to be my best self, the person I want to be when she is watching.

As young teens, my sister and I spent many long afternoons at the barn together, and we fought (a lot!).  I remember once I slapped my sister when Madonna was nearby.  The horse flinched with her whole body.  I felt so badly afterwards, in part for slapping my sister, but more because Madonna had seen me do it.  I didn't want her to be afraid of me or realize that I was capable of violence.  I loved this horse so much, and I believed I needed to be my best self in order to deserve her.  In this way, Madonna taught me the consciousness needed to manage volatile emotions. 

Madonna taught me so much. She was very spirited and over the years, it was a challenge to find people to ride, own or care for her when I wasn't able to do so.  She connected me with so many wonderful people - most notably JH & JH-Z who owned her before me, and MT, MB and AB who took care of Madonna in her twenties and found her a retirement home.  I am forever grateful to MT, MB and AB: my own life was very complicated during Madonna's later years, but they showed both Madonna and me compassion and made sure she had a safe place to retire.  They also recognized and loved her beautiful, sensitive spirit. 

In working out homes and training for Madonna over the years, I also met people who were dishonest and/or truly ignorant about horses. Having to deal with these situations and at times stand up for my horse taught me a lot, too.

Kathleen Lindley, horse trainer and writer says, "I would try to be, everywhere, the way I wanted to be when I was with the horses."  This photo reminds me of Lindley's words: I realize if I can take a deep breath, have honest intentions, and stay present, focused and kind around horses, I should be able to accomplish this around the humans in my life as well. 

In part, the photo connects me with this purpose.  On the other hand, the photo sits on my desk because just a glance at Madonna's eye reminds me what it felt like to be 12, grooming a gentle but curious mare, free in her stall.  How she would turn her head to look at me, maybe to nuzzle my arm.  It reminds me of the soft look in her eye when I would sometimes pull a bucket over and sit down outside, but within reach, of her stall door.  She would stretch her head over the door and rustle my hair with her muzzle, making me feel safe and important. 

I liked how she watched me, then.