Silvia writes: I was taking some time out from all that Events Psychology work and strolling in Sanctuary with my good friend, Lord Lucian, who is not a spirit guide but more of a fellow spirit, as well as providing excellent company on many occasions.

We were looking for a new game to play and after all I've been through for the past few months, something did occur to me - and it turned out to be rather special ...

Lucian's Horse

"What should we do?" I asked Lucian as we walked along the shores of a lake that seemed to be made of liquid mercury and looked rather stunning in the light of numerous moons, and three suns of different colours on this day.

"Oh, I don't know," he said and sighed, "When you can do anything, it becomes ... a little challenging to know just what to do ..."

"You're so right," I said and sighed also. This created a mist in the atmosphere which sparkled a little and reminded me of "the Universal Sandbox" that Project Sanctuary is, and that turned my thoughts to being more playful, like a child would be, and how both Lucian and I are given to being very, very serious most of the time.

"Perhaps we should play with a new toy," I suggested and Lucian laughed and shrugged at the same time. I went on to say, "What would you like? What have you always wanted, from way back when?"

He sat down on a large square black shiny crystal with ultraviolet rainbows playing attractively beneath its surface and said, "Come to think of it ... I always wanted a horse."

I was surprised and sat down next to him. The crystal hummed into my spine, an interesting sensation.

"A horse? That's strange. You've had a million horses!"

"Yes," he said and seemed to look through the pretty asteroid and all it had offer into a distant past, "I did. But never the right one."

I sat up straighter and the whole Events Psychology thing came back to me in an unwanted flash. I wiped it away with some irritation but one thing had stuck and I gave in and said, "We could make a model of the right horse for you. Would you like that?"

He smiled quite innocently and nodded. "Yes! A desirable diversion!"

I smiled back and agreed.

"Alright. So tell me about this special horse. What is special about it so it is different from the million horses you've owned before? Including the magical blacks, they were ... pretty special?"

"Well, it would have to be big. Really big. Much bigger than any horse I've ever seen."

"Oh .. .kay ... How big is big?"

"Two hands bigger than the biggest horse I've ever owned or ridden."

"That's ... big. You've had some big horses so two hands on top, that's a big horse."

"Yes. I am ... a big man, I am heavy. Always, always at the back of my mind is the thought that I am a burden on the horse and I cannot ask it to ... perform beyond its capability. It represents a limitation in so many different ways, one I have always rather resented."

"That's interesting." I thought about it and thought I might have a sense of how feeling like that, like a burden to a horse, would make the relationship difficult, unclean, somehow, and spoil the joy of riding freely.

A falling star trailing bright plumes of orange, yellow and purple across the soft azure sky momentarily occupied our attention, but nothing can break my fascination on the trail for a good model or a threshold shift for too long, so I said to him, "Ok, so the horse is big. And strong I presume. What else?"

Lucian said softly, "I want it to be white."

This didn't surprise me as much as I thought it would. On some level, I've always known that the whole thing with a black horse with matching black tack, black clothes and black cloaks wasn't the end of the story.

As he spoke and we both sat in thought, a pale cloudlike shape began to manifest before us on the soft grey sands and I could tell Lucian's horse was coming into being.

Gently, as not to disturb the process I asked, "What else?"

Lucian gave a small laugh, shook his head and said, "No-one but me should ride this horse, or have ever touched it before."

As he spoke, the shape became more defined, a swirling white horse streaming into existence, with mist swirling his mane and tale, his liquid hooves.

Lucian speaks on, evoking now with gathering clarity and power, "This horse comes from a place so far back in time and so far away, that is entirely of the first - this is the first horse that ever was, the very idea of a horse manifest for the very first time."

As he speaks, the horse throws back its head, snorts and becomes more manifest still, yet there are also still the misty banners remaining that stream from his nostrils, from his tail and mane, from his hooves.

Lucian whispers, "The god of horses ..." and there, reality shifts altogether and we are in a different place, a place of blue and green, endless planes of wonderment and purity of such intensity, nothing may remain here that even tastes of pain or suffering, error or confusion, sadness or madness, there is only truth here, here we are, him, and me, and his white horse, the god of horses manifest.

We rise together as one and go to stand either side of the horse. It is very calm, very open and mildly curious about our presence, doesn't presuppose our outcomes or our aims.

Lucian puts his head to the side and reaches up to touch the horse's neck, but then curtails his hand in mid movement.

"I am not worthy," he states calmly, very matter of fact, without shame, guilt or any other type of emotion.

Strangely, I can't argue that fact and so I say nothing and wait; this is Lucian's horse, he will have to decide what to do.

Lucian's attention is entirely focused on the horse now, and the horse's attention is focused entirely on him.

Once again, he reaches up and holds his hand out to the horse; it gently bends its powerful neck just enough to bring his nose close to Lucian's hand, takes a deep breath.

It is clear to me that if Lucian chooses to mount this horse, it will carry him with grace, and gladly; it will do so with volition, not as a servant or a slave, but as a partner in a most exciting new endeavour that gives both what they can't be if they should choose to walk alone.

And that is what Lucian chooses.

A knowing passes between them and the horse backs away; he turns and starts to walk, then trot, then run, then fly across the endless green and soon, he's gone.

Lucian is still and very calm, very present.

"One day ..." he says, and I know he means that one day he might be worthy, and when that day comes, the horse will be there, and his dream will have been fulfilled.

He smiles and turns to me, takes my hand, brings it to his lips and kisses it.

"And now," he says, still smiling, "What about you?

"What is it that you have always wanted ...?"

Silvia Hartmann

August 2009