Hello sweet friends, ahhhhh, I am excited about this one. It's fresh off the press. And another example of how telepathic animal communication works. Sometimes, the information comes in unexpectedly simply because you think of someone.
A few days ago, I was at a barn call. Whenever I go to this barn, there is a horse and a dog, Rollie, who is usually part of our session. On my drive home, I stopped for some errands, and as I got back into my car to head home, I saw a text from my client. "I completely forgot, Rollie turned 15 today." With the message came the appropriate birthday emojis.
As I drove up the lush green mountain road, I thought of Rollie. Saw him trotting on his long legs down the dirt path near the barn to greet me in the parking lot. Rolled up in the instructor chair in the indoor arena, watching the rest of us.
And said to him, "You are an amazing 15-year-old Gentleman."
Then I tried to do the math of how old he was in human years, my mind wandering down the path of age x7, but wait, isn't there a decrease of the multiplier as the animal gets older …?
That's when Rollie interrupted me and my math. Changing the course of my thoughts altogether.
Suddenly, I was back at the airport, where I had dropped my parents off the day before.
Rollie pointed out that my dad was anxious that day. I had noticed it before breakfast. My dad was even quieter than usual, his energy withdrawn, his face more downward than forward.
Then the pictures switched back to Rollie, who said he was sometimes anxious.
I saw Rollie standing by his food bowl, suddenly shaking. I saw him sitting down in the paddock with us and suddenly shaking. I saw him in the barn aisle, in a blanket, suddenly shaking.
And though we had several conversations about the shaking and his person has explored medical reasons, nothing clearly indicated why Rollie was shaking. I always felt it was an expression of anxiety but nothing to worry about.
As the filmstrip of Rollie rolled along, Rollie explained that it is old-age anxiety. Just like my dad had no true reason to be anxious ... we had plenty of time to drive to the airport.
All went well at the airport; he had helpers to take him through security, yet he left anxious beyond anything I had ever seen.
And Rollie said, "Yes, at a certain age, some beings become more anxious about life. Those who carry a lot of anxiety might get worse.
Or, they shift like Pippa, not caring about others and circumstances as much."
He told me to tell his person there was nothing to do or worry about. If he shakes, he is "... hit by one of those waves."
Huh. I pondered this for a while. Rollie was right. On the day of my parents' departure, I had done everything in my power to ensure it would work out perfectly.
Beyond that, I could do nothing to help my dad feel less anxious. It was his ride to ride out. And instead of telling him to relax, I kept him abreast of the GPS changes on our drive to the airport. "We're one minute behind. Oh, now we made up two minutes and might be early." Haha, that kind of banter.
And that is what I do with Rollie when I see him shake. I make eye contact, and with that, I say, I see you. If he does not reach out, I will offer him my hand so he can communicate with me. If he gives me a lick, I know he knows I know. If he is motionless aside from the shakes, I will put my hand on his neck and stroke slooowly down the spine. A beautiful way to remind him of his body. I pay super close attention to Rollie's response. If my touch causes him to retreat even in the most minute way, I retreat. I leave him be. If my hand helps him soften or expand, I keep it there and allow him to ask for what he needs. He might lie down, roll on his back, turn around to show me where to put my hand … the options are plenty, and only Rollie knows what makes him feel better.
Rollie pops in right now to say that sometimes, just knowing the other knows is enough. Sometimes, there is no solution except to ride the wave of anxiety, innately knowing that something will change the energy through circumstance …
Wow, this is very cool right now. Rollie shows me that he doesn't notice when the anxiety is gone. Because it's gone. Right? Think about it. The concept of having it or not having it doesn't exist. He only knows it when it shows up in his now. He is always in the present moment. In the present, it is only there, never not there. How incredible of a thought is that!
This podcast is less about the shakes and anxiety for Rollie or my dad but an insight into seeing and hearing others. Being seen and heard is the most powerful gift we can give.
A quick touch between the shoulders, keeping him updated on our ETA, and taking a few deep breaths in his company was my way of seeing and acknowledging my dad's anxiety.
Looking Rollie in the eyes and offering touch if desired is another way.
Not projecting my knowledge - we have pleeeenty of time - onto Dad.
And telling Rollie, "You are fine, don't worry," isn't helpful either when he isn't.
Feel it out yourself. I bet plenty of people around you don't see you for who you are. Don't understand how you feel. And can't go as deep as you want.
Surround yourself with those who do. And pay it forward to those you surround.
It's the best gift you'll ever give or receive.
And, just because you truly can't make this shit up … Rollie and my dad are both 83 years old.
Until next time, my sweet friends. As always, hanging with you is the most fun!
Goodbye and Auf Wiedersehen.