To those who don't know, the barn is a peaceful place, a place of sweet smelling hay, contented animals and a sheltered place to experience the four seasons. It is a destination for the urban dweller on a Sunday afternoon drive. But to those who linger, to remove that top layer of tranquility, it is a place of conflict and friendships, rustlings and buzzings, life and death, trust and fear. It is a place to stand in and talk to God...to ask why things are the way they are and ask why the world is becoming such a dangerous place. And sometimes it is a parallel universe that holds the secrets to our lives and the answers to our problems. place of sweet smelling hay, contented animals and a sheltered place to experience the four seasons. It is a destination for the urban dweller on a Sunday afternoon drive. But to those who linger, to remove that top layer of tranquility, it is a place of conflict and friendships, rustlings and buzzings, life and death, trust and fear. It is a place to stand in and talk to God...to ask why things are the way they are and ask why the world is becoming such a dangerous place. And sometimes it is a parallel universe that holds the secrets to our lives and the answers to our problems.

The conflict in the pasture isn't always evident. It simmers below the surface until something allows it to well up into the daylight. A new bale of hay, a bucket of grain, some treasure to fight over like school children. But then there is the blind horse, Pride. She senses the grain, the new treasure, the fresh bale of hay, but also knows there are others there so she pretends to not notice while she slowly finds her way to the source of her desire. She imagines or perhaps denies there is no enemy, no challenge waiting.

Those that can see give way to the queen of the pasture, the leader of the herd, the most powerful. They cannot deny the existence of the threat. But the blind horse doesn't see the threats, doesn't see the ears pinned or the nostrils flared. If she can't see it, she can pretend it isn't there. Life is good.

But is it? Can the blind horse avoid the bites and kicks of the queen when the grain calls her to the barn? With unseeing eyes she walks into the battle. She isn't aware of the coming conflict as the threat is hidden from her view. She walks blindly to the sweet smelling bucket of grain. With unseeing eyes she cannot escape. She must suffer for her blindness, her inability to recognize who the enemy is and how to conquer, or avoid, that enemy. She is attacked, driven from the prize yet unable to react fast enough to avoid the kicks and bites of the queen.

As time goes on the blind horse senses she must recognize the threat. She must make herself aware of what lurks in her world. She learns to stand off a bit, in a safer place where she can feel and smell and hear the others in her world. Where she can assess and react without the bites and kicks of the queen. She cannot deny the threat away and accepts she must learn to live with it. There are safe places in her world and she finds them. There are others in her world that fear the queen and she follows them. Recognizing the threat makes her safer.

But in recognizing that threat there are sacrifices. The new bale of hay must be approached carefully, without the old bold confidence when vision allowed her to see her enemy. The sweet smell of grain must not be a call to the barn without caution. Walking blindly in her world doesn't work now that the queen, the threat, has entered her world. Understanding her world has made life easier in a way. It has helped the blind horse make choices that avoid the teeth and hooves of the queen. It has helped her understand that she cannot have all she wants when she wants it. She must wait and listen. She must wait for the threat to go elsewhere.

Is this pasture with it's queen and blind horse a parallel universe. As humans in a world in upheavel are we the blind horse? Are we denying the threats while we imagine a continuation of the good life? Is our bucket of grain so tempting that we deny that threat until it is too late to suffer the hooves and teeth of the enemies of this world?

The blind horse and the queen are real horses. I watch them live out their lives in their small world with it's pleasures, problems and tragedies every day. But as I watch them I can't help but wonder if their world is a mirror of my world...of your world. A world where we go through life denying the threats, blind to them, just waiting for that next bucket of grain that we know will come...because it always has...and therefore always will.