As I sit here in front of my computer, the start of a new lunar cycle if you are into it, I am reminded once more how life is so very NON-LINEAR. Even though we have a calendar that organizes our life in ever advancing numbers of days, months, years. Even though we count our age at the passing of our birthday each year (and yes, mine is coming up this month if you must know), I am always reminded that life is cyclical. Ever changing, dynamic, building momentum and slowing down without pause. Like the tides. There is a flow to life, ever present and constant and yet never the same. Always moving and transforming from one moment to the next.

Appreciating this flow has not always been easy for me. For many years, I was driven by "to-do lists", things to accomplish and to get done. A calendar as a task master, emails and texts popping up all the time, a need to respond to everyone else's urgent requests. It did teach me many things though. Most importantly to not make time but TAKE time to refill my own well. However, I had gotten into the habit of ignoring the subtle signs. I was typically reminded when my body said NO MORE. Last year I went through six month of adrenal fatigue that was simply surprising although it should not have been. It forced me to take the time it took, to listen to my body simply demanding I slow down. Not just my body but also my mind. I had to become comfortable with tuning into my own rhythm throughout the year. Noting the changes, the ebb and flow of energy throughout the day, the week, the month. It was a fabulous lesson because I also started paying attention to it in the horses. What an amazing and deeply profound experience and one I am deeply grateful for!

Winter for me has always been a time for deep reflection, even when I tried to ignore it.  Whenever I tried to blow past it before, life had a way of slowing me down. Be it the January cold I would get, or simply exhaustion around my birthday. Winter is when nature rests, regroups, waits and gathers strength to burst forth once again when the days once again lengthen. This year, I really took the time to ask myself: What worked in the past, what I could have done better, where I could have gone deeper, where do I need to sit and be and listen?

In my profession, these moments of quiet are called "Still Points". We encounter them when we listen deeply and intuitively to the body - when we slow down, still our own agenda, quieten our own expectations - and allow the body to lead the conversation. I am repeatedly reminded that I am not the healer, the body is. I am really only the assistant in the most amazing process. A facilitator so to speak.

We also find these still points in our lives if we look close enough. It's those rare moments when you sit and become present. I know you are probably thinking "are you kidding? I don't have time to sit and be present!" Kids to feed or to drive to soccer practice, a husband who needs something for his upcoming trip, your mother calling once again about Sunday dinner, and the never-ending deadlines from your job. A traffic jam because people can't seem to figure out a simple stop sign. I can feel tension in my body increasing just thinking about it! I know it all too well. I was there, am there, will be there in all of those moments, just like you. That's why they are called MOMENTS of stillness!

I get it, really get it, finding stillness in all this chaos seems totally incomprehensible, even unrealistic. And yet, it is precisely those minute moments of stillness that allow life to flow. It is the silence between the notes which allows for beautiful music. Otherwise it's just a bunch of noise.

It's making the choice to take that deep breath at the stop sign instead of drumming your fingers on the steering wheel on the way to the barn when you are already running late. It's the choice of dropping into the moment of brushing your horse instead of thinking you only have ten minutes to warm up. It's choosing this quiet moment so you can find your connection - with yourself, your horse, your upcoming lesson. It's dropping into this very moment. With the subtle communication flowing between the two of you. This moment of stillness allows us to feel into our body and our heart, to feel the energy flowing between you instead of hearing the words endlessly bouncing around our minds.

It's where our horses reside. In their body. All the time. 

As I progress in my own journey, learning from every horse I touch, feeling for the most subtle rhythms or the absence of one, I am learning to connect not just mentally, but also physically, emotionally and even spiritually. 

To sink into those moments when everything gets quiet, to appreciate it, to not try and race past it in my quest to "get this loosened up". To find reverence in the subtlety the body has to offer. There is a sacredness to these moments we so often miss. 

So why is it so important to stay right there, in this space of seemingly nothing? Because that's where the magic really happens. This is where everything I am looking for resides. The potential of well-being, health, vitality, relaxation, vibrancy, enhanced range of motion, increased flexibility, power. It's there, in this seeming void of nothing that we discover and set free that which enhances and brings back to life all that we aim for. For our horses and our own well being. It requires us to quieten our mind and start listening with our heart, our intuition.

So my intention for 2018 is to find more still points. To increase my awareness to the subtleties of all life has to offer. To deepen my practice, to look beyond the obvious. To ask "Why", not "What". To look beyond what tradition has been teaching us and to use more than my five senses and tap into the infinite potential offered to us all.

As we start this New Year with so much promise, as we long for a feeling of aliveness and well-being, I am reminded once more of why I chose "Focus" as my word for 2018. I know, it sounds so opposite of what I just wrote about!

I chose "FOCUS" because it asks me to discern where I really want to spend my time, my efforts, my energy. To be aware of what else is available but to also become still and ask myself the important questions: What will bring more joy, more peace, more vitality? How can I serve better, more deeply, in a more meaningful way? 

If there is one thing I learned from 2017, it is this: I cannot offer what I have not cultivated within myself. Healing, deep and profound healing, occurs when we allow everything else to drop away and find the precise point of where the horse needs to BE to re-balance and heal. 

I would love to hear what your intentions are for 2018. Or maybe you have not really thought about it and now feel inclined to do so. In either case, leave me a note or drop me an email. 

Wishing you the very best for this year!

Daniela