01/01/2024
I received this earlier today from a man I admire as much as any human being on this planet. He’s one of these - so called ELDERS. I prefer to call men like this WISE MEN - and I know WAY MORE than three! None of them, to my knowledge ride camels - but I’m sure they COULD!
Don’t know its origin, but I DO KNOW - it’s a lesson I had the good fortune to learn very early in life - and the good sense to follow its suggestions. Submitted for your consideration . FOR THE GOOD OF THE HORSE, JWW.
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LOOK TO YOUR ELDERS
If you want to broaden your mind without losing your soul, seek out the old horsemen.
Find the gentle masters who've spent lifetimes exploring and honoring the bond between horse and human, and who've fought the good fight on behalf of both. Look for the sage but humble souls who shy from the spotlight, but speak brave truths.
You can have your prodigies and wunderkinds, your overnight sensations and media darlings, and your flashy up-and-comers splashed across web sites and magazines. They photograph well, but their aura is reflected light.
I'll take the elder statesmen – and stateswomen – any day of the week. Their brilliance shines from within.
I've been fortunate to know a few of them.
My role models are the flesh and blood embodiments of leather bound hardcovers, with dog-eared pages and notes scribbled in the margins. They are strangers to Instagram filters and gimmicky catchphrases. They suffer neither fools nor the fool's trappings. Their constant companions are honest toil and earnest sweat – and their currency is gospel truth. Theirs is the domain of dusty Wranglers and scuffed boots, a proper uniform for the working day. And they carry the bruises, sprains, and strains to prove it.
Yes, these elder statesmen do show a bit of wear.
Like old sailing ships, they are steeped in quiet dignity, though marked by weathered timbers and tarnished brass. But the memories of winds caught in those noble sails still whisper timeless truths.
Notoriously shy of the spotlight, our horseman elders aren't built for show business. Neither their posture nor their manner tilts at the conceit of drawing the eye or attracting an audience. Their easy grace often comes packaged with a limp, topped with reading glasses and a shock of silver hair, but it partners a firm handshake and a gaze that takes in all the world at once.
Their wisdom is passed along without pretense and without false pride. And, because their stories are curated with great humility, their words are chosen carefully and spoken slowly.
Listen closely.
In their presence, you must be brave enough to ask questions, and then smart enough to keep your mouth shut and listen. The hard part happens later, when you're tasked with honoring what you've learned with the effort it deserves.
If you do that, you'll soon realize that the very best parts of yourself, like pools of magic waters, were tapped and drawn from those venerable wellsprings. That's because the great truths that flow from old horsemen aren't just facts and figures to be filed away for later use. They are words to live by.
Their teachings are often shared from the back of a horse, but not always. Some of the best riding advice I've ever heard was given across a restaurant table, with plates pushed aside in favor of flatware ground poles and sugar packet pylons. I've received lessons in equine history while scurrying between foaling stalls. Great insights have been served up from golf carts, folding chairs, or the cheap seats in riding arenas. And some of the greatest have come from the other side of the world, in distant places made close by the Internet.
The luckiest among us might be an audience of one. We'll have a leg swung over a fence, or we'll be perched on feed sacks and hay bales. Any vantage point will do, as long as it keeps us within earshot and affords a view.
From here, we enter a world of subtlety, where less is truly more. And you learn very quickly that a lot can happen in a small space or in a short time.
Watch closely.
At any distance, onlookers expecting sudden bolts of enlightenment will be left disappointed by inscrutable methods and slow, measured ex*****on. They'll be especially puzzled by long stretches where nothing seems to be happening at all. But these are the complaints of small minds, with little appreciation of the wonders of unhurried care or the genius of deliberate stillness.
For the narrow-minded, how many small but precious gems are missed for want of a grand, sweeping flourish? For the impatient, how many slow but priceless treasures pass unnoticed because they lack a quick, dramatic pay off?
A fortunate few will see. But fewer still will understand.
The best among us will persist, remembering that understanding requires opening minds, hearts, and souls every bit as much as eyes and ears. In the bargain, our persistence is rewarded with humbling but brilliant insights – some unraveled slowly, others spun and cast in the blink of an eye.
The wisdom of our elder statesmen is woven in calm, patient assurance honed over decades. It comes in the smooth grace of quiet hands, the balance in posture, manner, and attitude, the clarity of cues and signals. We see time spent wisely, with no wasted motion, but no shortcuts either. In their presence, there is firmness without hardness, no actions without purpose, nor reactions without accountability.
What we notice most of all, is respect for the craft.
But we also see great respect offered to the horse, and we see that respect repaid in kind. For any true horseman, this is the very definition of integrity. If youth learns anything from age, it should be that.
The elder statesmen among us have much to teach. Open yourself to their stories. Heed their words and follow their examples. They aren't here to do your thinking for you; you're always free to draw your own conclusions and apply their wisdom as you see fit.
But, remember, their eyes have seen much that yours have not.
Look to your elders. Watch. Listen. And learn.
