One Hard Thing Substack Podcast

I just feel so happy about this way of allowing reality to enfold me, gently, without me having to fight it, limit it, place myself under or over other people, or elements of truth itself…

Not to restate what I am thinking through today too closely, but it’s a huge relief to have a way to orient myself within a field of what is, without having to pretend a knowledge of, or deny, large parts of what others report experiencing.

And this does not make truth relative, but it does make my access to truth very relative. Of course it does, because I am only me, not larger, not higher, not smaller, not able to inhabit more than my own point on any map.

That’s okay. That’s still plenty for me to manage, especially since everyone I know is similarly located as a point, with two axes to orient around, and time to do that orienting as we navigate amongst each other, with the natural world as a spatial terrain.

As usual, I take a tremendous amount of time to land on a very obvious conclusion. So…welcome to my fence, where I survey two sides of a question, and sometimes discover the fence itself is part of the solution.

Happy Friday!

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I’m playing with this whole landmarking sort of idea I have. I’m trying to experiment with thinking of myself differently, as being in reality, but also being a very powerful part of reality. It’s a reframe with consequences.

Instead of trying to control others, I’m trying to get way better at noticing my own place, my relationship to what is vertical (above, below) and what is horizontal (close, far, and in front, behind and to either side). Then…I can also manage how energy is directed through me towards Tundra, without needing to control her, so much as communicate with more clarity, and more options! Her responses are hers, and I had a lot of fun making this, because it’s so much nicer to be curious than need to succeed at my own ideas only and ever.

I also made an amazing riding video after this one on the ground, but unfortunately, because the day was so warm, I took my sweater off, completely forgetting that is what I had clipped the mic to. Oh well. Reality, right?

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I like me a good model. It is actually very helpful for me as I attempt to set intentions, remember my values, have a way of reliably orienting in relation to other people/animals/objects, and also track the complexity of my own responses. This is all so much, so important, and also so easily derailed by preprogrammed interruptions, that it is crucial that I start with a vivid picture or image or conceptual map of some sort that I can return to, when I start to wander off.

Today I’m thinking a lot of Grade 11 algebra, and graphs, and lines and rays and points and dimensions. I’m trying to stay upright - that is, both aware of how I’m travelling on a line, and also how I’m suspended between the earth and sky, in a place particular to me, and no one else.

This geometric overlay helps me remember that Tundra occupies her own space, and is on her own path of travel. We can be alongside, but I am not precisely sharing the same position, orientation, and therefore perspective. She must communicate to me, and with me. I can perceive, receive, and also attempt to interpret what she may be “saying,” but it’s always from that lateral place of not completely knowing. And vice versa, as you can see from the various questions and answers that are physically demonstrated, between our two bodies.

Slowing down helps. Presuming positive intent helps. Asking with as much clarity as I can find really helps. Sometimes, clarity is hard for me to access, and then it is with humility, and therefore appropriate on my part, for me to accept that my signals are difficult for Tundra to decode. This is why she might be offering various options as a response.

I entered this interaction from a particular juncture of tasks and feelings and energetic supply/demand. So did she. We are choosing to share space (I understood her as offering her consent), and doing so with as little in the way of forward distance pressure as possible (because I am frankly not up to that). I appreciate my horse as herself, and as a voluntary companion, and as an alongside-walker today.

I appreciate you, too. These videos are a little practice session of otherwise far more vague ideas. Making them real, visible, and experiential is one of the unintended and very welcome benefits of this Wednesday walking practice. So…welcome to my round pen. Which is multi-dimensional today.

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I’m vibrating. That in and of itself is a trick of the language, letting me know that I resonate with this realization. I’m not as hungry or poverty-stricken or homeless, or needy in so many domains, as I grew up believing I was.

The perfect storm of what was taught, reinforced, and required of me through so many formative stages led me to build upon a self-concept of echoing, and yet still cramped and small, empty space. Noticing that this belief underlies so many of my assumptions and therefore what I notice in space and time has given me the ability to drastically change my point of view, without moving my feet, or shifting any of my circumstances.

(Here are the correct lyrics to the hymn I reference, by Mary E. Maxwell:

How I praise Thee, precious Savior,

I suppose there are good implications to these words…somewhere. For me, this whole hymn epitomizes the image I absorbed of God wanting to basically scour me like a gun barrel or clean water hose. Channels only. Nothing left to impede the progress of the other through me, to yet other others.

And lest you feel smug about how Christianity can be callous towards identity, consider the many aspects of education, human services, business, and social contracts in all their forms, which encourage a similar through-put of productivity, or consumption, or translation of resources to goods and services, or filtering of what is true into what is likely to “go viral.”

Our language matters, deeply. I really believe that the use of the “Word of God” as a description for the Incarnation (of God in human form) in John 1:1 is not a light analogy by a highly romantic and dreamy author. How we describe ourselves to ourselves is so very pivotal as to what we notice in the world outside, and how that relates to how we view the world inside.

…okay, I’m writing a whole other essay here, and I already finished the podcast, so feel free to download and listen while you are doing something purposeful but not very engaging. I think this one is actually a very pivotal concept in this Substack, which is to say, I may actually have spiralled in to the centre of the whole maze I’ve been trying to map. I hope so. It’s about time.

(…and I so appreciate you all for coming along. Really. It’s been enormously cheering to have company as I meander around following the next idea and desperately making meaning out of all these found objects on the trail…)

Happy Friday. Curious what resonates here.

One Hard Thing Substack is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

This is the epitome of uninteresting, non-dramatic, low stakes relating. In other words, a Just Right Challenge for the both of us. I’m exploring whether our conversation has enough room for Tundra to break into a trot using a combination of cues - some of which are auditory, some of which are tactile. She’s willing and able, and it didn’t seem to require her to brace up or get tense. That’s a good thing. Speeding up is adjacent to escalation, for anyone who is experiencing the beginnings of nervousness. This was not a nervous exercise, and that meant it was exceedingly “uneventful.” Nevertheless, I enjoyed it quite a bit, and can’t help feeling happy about what it signifies for further additions of available speeds, and gears.

My intention for this ride is to simply notice. I talk a little bit about what I’m noticing, and I’m also trying to occasionally notice what I’m not noticing. There’s a lot that I could pay attention to. There’s only so much attention width, let alone attention span, that I have. Same goes for my horse.

Thinking about noticing as somewhat selective, and also a direction that can shift, is helpful for me in recognizing what my perceptions may be missing, or including. I can also be more understanding of my horse, who is trying to make sense of a lot of new cues. It’s a nice thing to notice - is noticing.

And that’s all I’ll say about that. Feel free to enjoy a super chill video of me and Tundra changing gears together, with a noticeable lack of stress as we do so.

Happy beautiful September Wednesday.

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Thanks for reading One Hard Thing Substack! This post is public so feel free to share it.

I wanted to do a more cerebral description of what I opened up yesterday as a possible way of sorting/filtering complexity in a first line way: a care ecology, vs a care economy.

Then, of course, I went for a walk. And shifted perspectives in real life, in my body, in my Soul even. I confronted a tension I’ve had my whole remembered existence - that of what to do when I am face to face with Beauty. The large scale kind.

Mountains. Northern Lights. Lakes under a full moon. A newborn. The horses running in a herd, manes flying. My dog’s eyes, completely unarmored. Too much to adequately “take in.” I want to treasure this moment, keep it somewhere, store it for later. I want to scour it for its beautiful attributes, and find a way to own the essence of what I’m just looking at. Sniffing, feeling, hearing, seeing.

I’ve always been frustrated at these moments. The more awe-inspiring the vista, the more important it seems to me to somehow pull it in. It’s like…my soul space is not large enough. I’m too small a person to contain this much…wonder. So I write a poem. Or I frame a picture. Or I simply try to remember. That is never quite the same.

But you know, that’s my economic awareness talking. That’s the whole ownership dilemma. I’m not a steward or a participant in these thought processes; I’m somehow a spectator and interested investor. Not the same stances, and not the same transactions available.

So I tried, consciously, with a real effort to right-size myself, to enter the ecology of the moment.

What a change. What a complete shift in possibilities.

Without that need to acquire, I could open up my perceptions to inquire. Without having to save and store and hold, I could allow a felt inhale of generous offers of replenishing overflow from the world around me. Not to keep. But to breathe. Not to own, but to exchange in kind.

I thunked down to earth in a way that was relieving, grounding, and a bit unsettling all at once. I’m just another denizen of the forest. I come with claws and teeth, for sure, but I’m allowed anyway. I’m here, and there is room for me, as well as for all this wealth of splendour to simply continue on, opening before, and closing behind me, relatively undisturbed.

That was quite the walk. I’m happy to climb on a fence and process it a little with you here.

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Better late than never. I’m also coordinating a few variables. I get it. Anyway, if you want to see a fun analysis of how hard it can be to go from a trot to a canter in a circle around a person…here it is. And not even 25 minutes long. Quite.

Making a difficult human task sort of visual is one of the things I’m enjoying here. Integrating streams of cognitive, emotional, and physical information simultaneously, and functionally, is hard for people to do when starting a new challenge. Apparently it’s also hard for horses. Slowing down (as always!) helps.

So does grace and space and softness. And nice cool weather. That’s also helpful. I have a ridiculously comfortable outfit on, because September has arrived.

Happy Wednesday!

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I realize this is late. I apologize. I imagine there are maybe 3 of you who depend on my Friday offering. 🫢 It’s Saturday. My rhythm has been extended somewhat.

However this is all about giving myself the permission to extend my “trot,” or smooth out my reactivity to stimuli, or transition more gently between tasks or states.

I’m wondering if rhythm as a handle for manipulating my experienced reality may be more useful than balance…not sure. Maybe it’s just another tool.

But here you go! I wonder, as I wander, through the various possibilities suggested by all the many ways my points of view intersect, interact, and intertwine.

Happy whatever day you get this! Friday will come again. There is that, too. The rhythms are something to rely on as well…

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It’s hard to see a cute little pony be stressed. Embers was a little worried, and used multiple little escape tries to get away from the new and scary situation. She ran around, stuck her head through the rails, called for Tundra to rescue her, tried to eat grass so as to disappear and not be noticeable, ignored me, placated me with her expression and body language…

But Embers is three years old. She’s ready for school. She’s had a long time to get used to the place, her herd, and me as a part of all that. So I’m going to override my impulse to pet her and comfort her and basically keep her young and scared and a “pet.” Instead, I want to pull out the competent, smart, powerful, knowing little mare that is in there. So…

School it is. Any kindergarten teacher reading knows exactly what I’m talking about. You can figure this out. I will be kind but clear. I will expect a little more than you think you can do. I will persist in my messaging without getting in the least upset with you. I will make this achievable and you will succeed and we will build on that success forever. It’s going to be fun.

If you watch Embers’ state at the beginning, and compare it to the end (I only cut out maybe 5 minutes of repeating experimentation), you will see that brave, smart, competent, and also quite food-motivated pony emerge. She’s starting to communicate with me with more confidence, asking more questions, using a trial/error approach to learning without escalating in her fear, and basically thinking instead of reacting. There’s all the room in the world to maneuver in this space.

This required me to have an intention, make it very clear to myself in horse language, and then keep to it. Even when I felt sorry for her or she got it wrong a few times in a row. No worries. Keep on until she figures it out. With no punishment - just a pattern.

Since that lesson, Embers follows all of us all over the place. I’ve given her more freedom to graze with the bigger girls because she will come to me with confidence and that means I can take care of her with less physical confinement.

Win win.

I hate limits. I do. And yet…people who refuse to show me a clear definition of their own “edges,” are also quite frustrating for me to relate with. So it’s possible I don’t so much hate the limits, as the placement, when and where they get in my way. I’m a bit of a selfish person in that regard.

I’m questioning and questioning how to proceed in various tricky situations in my life, but one of the hardest dilemmas I’m finding is kind of the opposite: when nothing bad is happening, then what? If I have more choice than I’m used to, how to set about coming up with a plan of action?

It turns out, I’ve been kind of following the fence lines for a lot of my life, and calling that a direction. It’s not. It’s just a fence, and I’m following it.

I’d like to change this. I’d really like to live my life, on purpose, as they say. This requires me to reimagine how to do that, without leaning on my various limits as my primary antagonist, and therefore the subject of what to do next.

Suppose I think of limits as shaping reality for me. In that case, they are not inherently awful. Quite the opposite. They provide definition, information, and in some cases, clues as to patterns that may be larger than I can see from where I stand.

I have been focusing for most of this year on balancing as an end in and of itself. I’m now wondering if it is more of an indicator that something deeper, more fundamentally of value, is working…Maybe I can work towards balance as a sub-goal of a larger sort of aim, which could be a little more particular. Maybe even occupational! Ha.

In the context of caregiving (which is one of my laboratories of ethical living), this could look like moving together and sharing energy across systems in efficient and effective ways. Ways that maybe promote health in all directions, rather than a tendency to loss by one party in favour of another. Balance would show up as the ability to deal with perturbations from any direction, with people in the system moving to cover gaps based on ability, authority, access to resources, and so on. But the balancing would be a byproduct of a larger, deeper, and far more focused work effort.

…and I’ll stop there. This is extremely interesting to me because it is relevant across the board. Have a listen. Would love to know if any of this view from this particular fence lands in your landscape. :)

Happy Friday.

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