Odin

The autumn mornings at the ranch are beginning to get a bit more crisp. And this particular morning, was delightful; dry and sunny, a slight warm breeze brushed the skin. We entered a quiet space together, a long hush washed over us.

There was no hurry to do anything. We listened to the birds, the distant cars. We felt our breath together. We stood in the quiet, an undefined space of liminality, so present with each other there wasn’t even a wish for it to last, or not, but the moment did take its own time. The sounds came and went around us while we stayed there, as though the world had grown gentle at its edges.

A softness descended, and we landed there together, held by a moment that asked nothing of us. Then, the moment came that I decided to make a new offering. A pocket halter with one single loop held in my hand.

When I offered him the long blue rope, the hush held us still.

Would you like to see what this is?

Smell it?

He reached toward it with his soft nose, then came away.

We had all the time he needed to return.

Want to smell it again?

Smell my hand?

Each offering was a small opening, and each time he came close, I felt the sweetness of his trust and the warmth of his breath on my hand without needing to ask it to become anything more.

He seemed to want play with me a bit too; taste the rope and give my hand a little lip smack. That was fine, I was pleased that he was willing to be playful and explore it.

Then I dropped a treat on the ground for him to find in order to give him a moment to lower his head, his neck easing downward with him. We rested in that little pause before I offered the rope again.

Would you like to smell it once more?

See what it can do?

It can touch your nose and slide up if you want.

I brought the halter near, and he let me touch his nose with it. We lingered at his nostrils, where his warm, moist breath met my hand. I could feel each breath arrive and leave. His nose was so soft, and he was so close. For a little while, there was nowhere else I wanted to be. And I could tell that was as far as we could go, for the moment.

Then, Odin approached again, slowly and delicately I responded, I slid the halter and my hand along the bridge of his nose, toward his cheekbones. We came away and tried again, each time letting him feel the movement before we went farther.

There was no need to hold on to what we had reached. We could begin again as often as he needed. Patience is not my virtue. It is a gift to me, this chance to be with Odin in a space that has not yet decided what it will become. We can let one moment open into the next without knowing where it will go, or where we will go together.

But, by the time our session ended, my hand had touched his entire nose, and the halter had come up to his cheekbones. There was no stress, no reaction to settle. Just curiosity and quiet space, stillness around us.

We had gone somewhere together, and neither of us had needed to hurry.