Reflections by Doc Arnett

My first horse of the summer was only a little bit of a bummer; back in May, I’d paid gaited horse price for a horse that didn’t gait. Since the seller had promised to refund our money if we decided he wasn’t the one we wanted, we returned the horse within thirty days. At first, we agreed to take a substitute horse but changed our minds on that less than twenty-four hours later. She followed our example and changed her mind about returning our money. Even a month after she’d sold both of the other horses to other suckers, err, I mean "customers," she still refused to return our money.

Obviously, I could take the court option. Spend a little bit of money and a lot of time and get a small claims judge to declare, "Hey, you owe this guy some money." That would not guarantee I’d actually get the money but it would guarantee that I get lots of stress and that I would contribute to the ill-well in the world. That account being already over-funded, I decided to wait for the stable owner to find me a replacement horse.

Last Saturday, I took a test drive on a new Tennessee Walker gelding that she had just bought.

Blackjack greeted us with a gentle demeanor and very calm disposition. Hopefully, that was not due to being sedated. Although he wouldn’t stay in either of them for more than a minute or so, he did have a couple of smooth gaits. As we followed the guide around the big soybean field and into the woods, Blackjack moved along behind the others in a comfortable walk. We made it through the woods, around the lake, by a bunch of junk stuff, through some more woods and then out onto a small backroad.

A few cars passed us and the gelding did fine. He even walked past the wind-bounced balloon on the yard sale sign without a twitch. We were doing great and I was actually enjoying the ride. Things were going so well that Jack and I moved out in front of the others.

Then came the huge German Shepherd.

He came rushing out from the yard to our right, barking and snarling, charging right at my horse. "Oh, darn," I thought, "this could get interesting." (Yes, it is amazing how calm I can be when writing about such a dramatic episode. It is only slightly less amazing at how loosely I can quote myself.) In that split-second between stimulus and response, I wondered if my horse would buck, bolt, spin, jump or rear up. I thought it quite likely that he would do all of them at the same time. Behind me, Randa watched in slight horror, imagining several of the ways that this could end badly and helpless to do anything but wait and see what my horse did.

What Blackjack did was take off in a fast, smooth trot. That was it. No bucking, bolting, spinning, jumping or rearing up. Just that fast, smooth trot… all the way back to the stable.

I think I’ve found my horse. Or maybe it’s more like salvation; maybe my horse has found me.

H. Arnett

9/23/11

There has always been a struggle between the spirit and the flesh. Well, there has always been that struggle for those who do something other than just let the flesh take control. In that case, there’s no struggle. Maybe a whimper of conscience now and then, some dying gasp of the spirit. For these, perhaps, there is still a notion of better choice from time to time, a barely perceptible twitch of the needle on the moral compass.

But for those who desire to walk on a higher plane, who know that there is a realm beyond this crumbling world, who believe that the things most real are the things unseen, there is that struggle. The things that please the flesh are not the things that please the spirit and the things that please the spirit are not the things that please the flesh.

Like most things given the discipline of exercise, the more often used, the stronger the spirit becomes. A continual pattern of deliberately following after the Spirit increases the hold of heaven on one’s life. The opposite is equally true for following after the flesh.

When this becomes most treacherous, most deceptive, and in some ways, most destructive, is when we try to follow the flesh in spiritual matters. When we devise or allow the contraptions of human in religion, we immediately and ultimately damn our religion. It becomes a means of power, of control, of ambition, of selfishness. It can then neither fulfill the intent of heaven or the desire of the soul because it has been subverted to fulfill the desires of the flesh.

When the moving of the Spirit becomes subject to ratification by our written rules or our unspoken codes, we cannot achieve spirituality. Not as individuals, nor congregations, denominations or other organizations. Either we suspend or re-write our personal and corporate mandates, or we quench the Spirit.

H. Arnett

9/19/11

A slight fog

on the first chill night

in September

hangs a light haze

around a bright moon

just past its fullness.

There is still

enough glow

to show the full shape

of the locust

growing outside

the bathroom window.

I look out

from the second floor

studying the silhouette,

fascinated

by the interweaving

of space and shadow

like someone

with enough

of a notion of God

to know

that to acknowledge

Presence

is not the same

as claiming

Comprehension.

I have never

touched the moon

but I am convinced

that it

is much greater

than the tree.

H. Arnett

9/15/11