I swore I wouldn’t give up my horses. Standing there in the pasture that day, weeks after the collapse, my daughter said to me, “Please don’t get rid of the horses, mama.” And I really, truly believed I could keep these majestic creatures in my realm.

A year later, standing in the arena, waiting for the trailer to pick up my Tennesse Walker, the economic reality had weighed in. There was no way out of this predicament other than surrender and acceptance.

“Doing the right thing is never easy,” says a friend at the barn, as she consoles me and pats my shoulder. “You should be proud that you are taking these steps. Most people don’t and the animal ends up suffering.”

I feel a tremendous sense of guilt for having to release them when they have done nothing wrong.

I knew this was the right thing to do, but my heart ached nonetheless. This horse stood outside my bedroom window for seven years, nickering as soon as he heard the curtains open. He is a gentle giant, an equine Houdini, famous for opening the barn and pasture doors, releasing all the horses to freedom, resulting in wild, chaotic jaunts through the neighborhood on numerous occasions. His blue eyes defy nature.

I have always been quite capable of asking for things for other entities. Put a fundraising opportunity in front of me and I can magically bring together people and objects that result in vast sums of money for charitable organizations.

When it comes to myself, I stumble. The need to be self-sufficient is one of the trunks of baggage I have hauled around with me from childhood.

Finding homes for my horses taught me deeper lessons about asking for help, the power of the universe and the kindness of people.

Once I made up my mind that this was the best thing to do, and committed myself to that end, the process took on a life of its own. I sent out beautiful letters to equine facilities and began asking everyone I ran into if they might know someone who could help me find homes. In short shrift, a space opened up at an amazing horse sanctuary for one of my horses. If you have extra cash and want to support the Golden Carrot, Casey is the epitome of devotion, a one-woman army caring for horses that can no longer be ridden. She does this out of love for these creatures on a shoestring budget.

Then, in a chance meeting with my insurance agent at Trader Joe’s (although I’m not sure anything just happens anymore), he put me in touch with his cousin who was looking for a second horse. A few weeks later, my daughter and I were on our way to Arizona to deliver my Icelandic to her new barn.

There is something incredibly powerful about asking for what you need from the place where your authentic truth resides. I have experienced this on many levels these last few years. It is a mystical process and my best guess is that it echoes those moments when we are connected to our truest passion, when we just say yes to the universe and allow it to come through us unobstructed.

It involves a giant leap of faith into the unknown.

Perhaps it requires trust that there are unbidden benevolent forces out there just waiting, and hoping, to be asked for assistance.

 “When you have exhausted all possibilities, remember this: you haven’t.”  –Thomas Edison

Exhaust every possibility to get what you need. I am cheering you on.

-db

Who is Dianna Bonny?

Hi, my name is Dianna Bonny. It’s my mission to candidly share my journey with you. For me, it’s all about the healing: to create a radiant healing energy for others who have befallen a similar fate. Together, we can forge beautiful lives of belonging and connection. Thanks for joining me today! I look forward to hearing from you.