by Mandy Magro
The sunlight now streaming through made the hundreds of dust particles floating in the air appear diamond like, her memory of trying to catch the floating jewels with her mum making her smile wistfully. They’d spent many afternoons up here with her aunts, playing dress ups from the old boxes of clothes. If she closed her eyes she could still hear the laughter as she swirled around in garments five times too big for her. With her arms wrapped tightly around herself now she slowly twirled, mimicking those movements as her memory swept her away to a time and place when her mother was still alive. Her heart soared with the recollections as a lone tear ran down her cheek. She let it fall. How she wished her mother were still here to share her life with. Ivy took a deep breath, and gently blew away the heartache, imagining it dispersing into the filtered sunlight.
Not wanting to dwell too much on the things she couldn’t change, Ivy tried to be grateful for all she had, and the beautiful women who were still on this earth to share her life with. The gratitude brought a smile to her lips. She was making her way back to the ladder when she spotted her guitar case sitting in a corner. Her heart sank and she stopped in her tracks, her smile now stolen. In days gone by, music was her life, and her life was full of music. She used to feel a melody in everything: the pitter patter of rain, the croak of a frog, the clip-clop of horses’ hooves, even the sound of her footsteps on the timber floorboards of the homestead. As a child she used to make musical instruments out of everything, from old tin cans, milk bottles filled with rice, pots and pans, to blowing on blades of grass like it was a harmonica. Music used to be the one thing in life that could change her mood in an instant, the one thing that had the power to lift her spirits on the darkest of days. Along with the healing horses, her music had been her saving grace when her mother had killed herself. But then that bastard had taken all that away from her when he’d tried to rape her and then, when she wouldn’t succumb to him, tried to take her life. She trembled with the awful memory. The mind was a powerful thing – she knew that all too well after her years of training to be a counsellor, but as much as she understood how she was unconsciously connecting what had happened with the fact she’d been in that place at that time for her music, it didn’t make it any easier to remedy. She wished she could just click her fingers and make everything better, but it wasn’t that simple. She’d tried for a few years, time and time again, to at least take her guitar out of its case, but she hadn’t even been able to do that. So, before she’d begun her online study, she’d put her guitar up here – out of sight, out of mind. Apparently. Not that it had worked; her passion for music, although buried all these years beneath distractions and keeping herself busy, was still deep within her. There was no denying it – just like her mother, music ran through Ivy’s veins and made her who she was. She just prayed that with her aunts’ gentle encouragement and loving support, and through her own will and sheer determination, she’d eventually get past her anxieties.
Hesitantly, and with her feet feeling a little like lead weights, she went over and ran her fingers down the guitar case, collecting a thick layer of dust on her fingertips. A muscle twitched involuntarily at the corner of her eye and her heart picked up pace as her mind flicked back to that night. A muffled sound escaped her lips as the scar that ran from her chest to her belly button ached. Flinching, she jerked her hand away from the case and brushed the dust onto her jeans as fresh tears filled her eyes. She tried to blink them away, wiping the few salty droplets that had escaped down her cheeks with the back of her hand. She’d cried enough because of what that monster had done to her, probably enough to fill all the oceans in the world. She just wanted to move on and forget it had ever happened. If only she could bring herself to strum her guitar once again, to sing again, maybe the memories of that terrifying night would finally stop taunting her, and the occasional nightmares would stop too. It angered her that not only had her attacker assaulted her body, he had also stolen her passion, her sacred love of music. The sound of an acoustic guitar was a balm to her soul, the hypnotic sensation of picking the strings a soothing quality she still craved. To be able to lose herself to the melody of her guitar once again would be magical. It would be a dream come true.
In a daze, she took a few steps backwards then sat down, trying to regain her composure with some deep breathing and silent affirmations. There was a young woman arriving very soon for a healing session and May and Alice had asked her to work one on one with her – which Ivy was eager to do, as she could draw on her own experiences to help her on an even deeper level. The woman was a victim of domestic violence, and Ivy needed to be a pillar of strength for her, for she was meant to be the healer, not the one who needed healing. And being a fully qualified counsellor, she wanted people to think the best of her, to believe that she was capable and strong and didn’t need help, that instead she could help them. There was no way Ivy wanted others to know that at times she felt weak or scared – it was always a lot harder to dig deep within yourself and heal, than it was to help others to heal. However, she was learning the hard way that the problem with keeping up a front and pretending everything was okay was eventually you started lying to yourself, and that wasn’t constructive. Seeing her guitar shoved away up here like a bad memory was a kick in the guts, and a reminder that everything was not okay. She needed to get that part of herself back, but finding the strength to do that when she had so much other stuff on her plate was almost impossible. She drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, feeling her body relax somewhat. All in good time – she had to believe that there was rhyme and reason to everything that had happened and eventually she would be at one with her music again.
‘Ivy, are you still up there, love?’ Alice’s voice carried up the ladder, snapping Ivy from her thoughts. ‘May will be back from the train station in a minute, love, and I need you down here to welcome Leah.’
Ivy leapt to her feet and tiptoed over to the ladder. She smiled down at Alice, who was looking very smart in her jeans and the aqua-blue shirt Ivy had had made for them all with the Healing Hills logo on it. ‘Yup, sorry Aunt Alice, you know me … got a bit sidetracked. I’m coming now.’
Alice waited for Ivy to join her and then helped her close the ladder back up. ‘What have you been doing up there? I thought you might have gotten lost among all the boxes.’ She wrapped a protective arm around her niece and gave her a loving squeeze. ‘I was about to send out a search party.’
Ivy knew from the compassionate look in her eyes that Aunt Alice had cottoned on to the fact she was a little distressed, so she glanced away, not wanting to get into the whole scenario right now. They’d been there many times before. And although she usually went to her aunts when she needed some parental advice, she didn’t feel like doing so right now. She needed to stay focused on the afternoon ahead and not go getting herself more upset.
‘Oh, you know, just got a little preoccupied wandering about – there’s so much interesting stuff up there.’
‘Tell me about it. We really need to clean it out one of these days. Who knows what hidden treasures we might discover, hey?’ Alice uncoiled her arms from around Ivy’s shoulders and headed for the spiral staircase that led down to the entrance hall. Turning, she gave Ivy a knowing smile. ‘And Ivy, don’t go beating yourself up, you’ll play it again one day, my love. I just know you will. And I know your heart is hurting at the moment, but it will heal, and you will go in search of love once more. You won’t be able to help yourself, sweetheart, you’re a romantic if ever I’ve seen one.’
Ivy smiled warmly at her aunt as she fought to keep her emotions in check. She should have learnt by now that there was no keeping anything from Alice, or May for that matter – the two women were so in touch with those around them. ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence, Lord knows I need it.’
‘Oh, no you don’t, Miss Ivy Tucker – I know you struggle at times but you’re much stronger than you give yourself credit for.’
Ivy blinked back tears as the knot in her thro
at tightened. ‘Thank you, Aunt Alice, I try to be strong but sometimes all I want to do is crumble into tiny little pieces and cry for all of Australia.’ She sniffled.
Alice reached out and pulled her in tight. ‘I know, love. You just need some more time, and to be gentle with yourself. That’s all. There’s no need to rush into healing … it will happen when it’s meant to.’ She pulled back and shrugged. ‘And who knows? A miracle might be just around the next corner … magical things always seem to happen when you least expect them to.’
Ivy wiped her tears away. ‘I’d like to believe you’re right.’
‘I always try to be.’ Alice gave her one last squeeze. ‘Are you sure you’ll be okay for today’s healing session?’
Determination filled Ivy. ‘Yup, one hundred and ten per cent sure.’ She tucked her hair behind her ears. ‘Helping people gives me the strength to heal myself just that little bit more, and being able to relate to their pain makes the session all the more healing for them, I’m sure – not that I’m going to tell Leah of my own experiences, of course.’
Alice nodded. ‘You’re a clever girl, Ivy.’
Ivy smiled. ‘I love you, Aunt Alice.’
Alice reached out and gently tapped Ivy’s cheek. ‘And I love you.’
***
Wisps of clouds that looked as though a painter had swiped their paintbrush across the cobalt sky and a breeze so gentle it was more like a caress met Ivy outside the homestead. The sun was just warm enough to whisk away any lingering coolness from the dawn, giving rise to goose bumps as Ivy stepped down off the verandah. It was a perfectly beautiful summer’s day for a healing workshop.
Introductions done and a morning tea of date scones with jam and cream and homemade strawberry and chamomile tea savoured, Ivy smiled warmly at Leah Harwood. It was time to begin the session. First, Leah would acquaint herself with her chosen horse, Harmony, in the middle of the sheltered roundyard – which Ivy confidentially considered her official counselling arena. With her calm, kind and gentle nature, Harmony was a brilliant choice for Leah. The gorgeous palomino mare had always been one of Ivy’s favourites among the twelve beautifully intuitive horses they had at Healing Hills, with her glossy-as-silk golden honey coat and champagne-coloured mane and tail, and her ability to help people through whatever it was they were struggling with. Almost fifteen now, Harmony had been with them since birth – a foal from Zena, one of the greatest horses she and her aunts had ever come across in the art of horse healing. She’d been the horse that had helped Ivy get through the excruciating heartache of losing her mother. The charismatic Zena was now buried in a field specially reserved for their beloved horses.
After standing back a little and allowing Leah some time to bond with Harmony by grooming her with a rubber curry comb, Ivy began the nitty gritty of the session, doing her best to allow Leah to feel comfortable at the same time. It didn’t appear like that was going to be too hard to do as Leah delicately wrapped her arms around Harmony’s neck and gave her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. Harmony responded by dropping her head and gently pressing her muzzle up against Leah’s heart, and remaining there, her eyes closed. Ivy knew this was Harmony’s unique way of deeply connecting with a human in need, a form of horse-to-human reiki. It was a powerful practice to observe, and even more so for the person receiving healing energy from the horse. It gave Ivy goose bumps just watching it.
‘What’s she doing, Ivy?’ Leah asked in almost a whisper as she softly placed her hands on Harmony’s neck, her facial expression that of someone gazing at the miracle of a new baby.
‘She must be sensing an energy blockage in your heart, so she’s performing some reiki on you. Just try to breathe slowly as she works her magic.’
Leah nodded, clearly at a loss for words. After a few moments she glanced back at Ivy – her eyes glistening with unshed tears. ‘I can’t put it exactly into words, but it feels like she’s drawing some of my sadness away.’ She shook her head slowly. ‘I’ve never experienced anything like this before – how does she know?’
‘Our four-legged staff members are very gentle and remarkably intuitive. They can sense any surface uncertainty as well as deep-seated emotional distress without you having to say a word. In effect, they hold up a mirror for you to view yourself so you can really reach within and begin the process of healing.’ Ivy strolled a little closer to Leah, lowering her voice, being careful not to interrupt Harmony. ‘When our energy system is out of balance, healing takes place through exposure to the electromagnetic field of the horse’s heart, which is scientifically proven to be five times stronger than that of the human heart. So when we are in this space, it’s an innate human trait for our heart to rise in frequency too, especially when we are invited into their space with such grace, as Harmony just invited you. In turn, we are gifted with a feeling of belonging.’
Leah glanced at Ivy as the tears she’d been holding back began trickling down her cheeks. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. Harmony lifted her head at this point and rested it on Leah’s shoulder as she began nibbling Leah’s shoulder-length hair. Leah giggled and sniffled at the same time.
‘What they say is true, Ivy, horses really are beautiful creatures. I thought I was going to be terrified, seeing as I’ve never been this close to one before, but I feel so at peace with her. Kind of like I’m part of her herd.’ She smiled through her tears as she rested her hand on Harmony’s cheek. ‘This might sound weird, but I feel like I can truly let go and be myself near her, and I seriously haven’t felt like that in years, around anyone.’
Ivy smiled, her heart welling as she watched horse and human connect, just as she had hundreds of times before; each and every time as potent as the last. ‘It’s not weird at all. Horses aren’t predators and they don’t judge, instead they give you a place to feel safe, and a sense of feeling wild and free. They open their hearts and souls to us so that we can do the same for them.’ She reached out and softly touched Leah’s arm. ‘It’s wonderful you’re feeling so comfortable and connecting with Harmony so quickly, it means you’re very open to healing.’
Leah nodded enthusiastically as she dried her tears on a tissue Ivy handed her. ‘I sure am. I just want to be the happy woman I was before everything turned to absolute shit.’
‘And you will be,’ Ivy said, as she wished the same thing for herself. She placed her hand on Harmony, silently thanking the horse for a job well done. ‘So tell me, Leah, what do you struggle the most with when you’re around other people?’
Leah stopped stroking Harmony’s mane as she thought about this, her eyes displaying a depth far beyond her twenty-three years and her slumped shoulders displaying the massive emotional weight she’d been carrying. ‘Definitely trust, and a sense of belonging anywhere – I always feel like the odd one out, like I’m the black sheep, not only of my family, but the world around me.’
‘Okay, very good, let’s work with the trust issue first, because I think Harmony has already made you see you can belong by making you feel like a part of her herd, yes?’
Leah broke into a heartfelt grin, her eyes sparkling with elation. ‘Oh my goodness, yes, she has. Wow. I didn’t really see it that way until you pointed it out.’ She gave Harmony a scratch on her withers. ‘So what would you like me to do now?’
‘What I’d like you to do is walk around to the back of Harmony, and stand as close as you can to her, without making any sudden movements.’
Leah’s face drained of colour and her eyes widened in fear. All traces of her smile were now gone. ‘I don’t know if I can do that. What if she kicks me?’
Harmony had been trained for this very thing, and there was no threat of her kicking out at Leah, but Ivy kept her voice soft and gentle as she observed Leah’s body becoming tense. ‘You’ll need to trust me when I say she is not going to kick you. And you’re not going to know if you can do it unless you try, are you? You’ve just told me how safe you feel around Harmony, and you know I’ve only got
your best interests at heart, so just bear this in mind as you make your decision.’
Leah nodded before easing herself, step by tiny step, around behind Harmony, to stand about a metre from her back end. Folding her arms in front of her, she lightly swayed back and forth.
‘Can you go a little closer please, Leah? In your own time, of course.’
Leah hesitated but then took a step closer and halted once again. She ran her hands over her face and through her hair. She took a deep breath and then took another step, and another step, until she was almost touching Harmony. She grinned as she looked at Ivy, the traces of the happy young woman she had once been lingering in her smile. ‘I did it, and she hasn’t kicked me,’ she whispered.
Ivy beamed too. ‘Great work! You just showed an immense amount of trust in both myself and Harmony.’
Leah nodded, visibly chuffed with her massive effort. ‘I did, didn’t I?’
‘And nothing bad happened, did it?’
‘No. It didn’t.’
‘Good work, Leah. Okay, you can come back around to her front now.’
Leah ran her hand along Harmony’s coat as she walked back. ‘I know I don’t need to talk about what’s happened to me, and in the past when I have been to my psychologist I haven’t wanted to, but is it okay if I do? In a strange way, I feel like talking about it to you, so I suppose I should.’
Ivy nodded gently – this was exactly what she wanted to happen. ‘Of course, how about we all sit down, though, so you and Harmony can be at the same level.’
