It dawns on me – in the manner of a cloud unshrouding the sun – that the relationship and effect of H sapien parents on their young can be read through the same prism that refracts the relationship and effect of the H sapien on their equine dependents. Many times it has happened that I learned to discern the pattern of a master’s ego and will in the movement and predilections of their horse. Horses have clarified vistas of recognition – so often their honesty is willing to admit that which is submerged and denied in the human’s conflicting aggregates [khandas].
I have witnessed the imprinting of a horse in the way it carries it mirrors and reflects from another’s world into its own. There is a translation that does not intend to parallel every word and sentence, nor pretend accuracy (as defined by the presumptuous universities who forget that distortion is necessary for the existence of any particular metaphor, and instead presume that their perspective can encompass the Aleph).
The fears and hopes of the human partner resonate through invisible threads that cast their shadows as webs that are themselves the scaffolding for all that appears. There is a secret code that transmutes the elements of a human’s motions – subtle and course and barely intended – and also the flickers of distraction and spotlights of attention, into the familiar and alien (both) equine soul’s expressions.
This may be similarly true regarding the mother of the sapien children, who gaze upon their parents, pliable and ready for form, and yet remain defined by their core identity, that takes instructions, then confounds and refines and reconsiders them, according to the complex mathematics of their evolved brilliance.
This imprinting transcends instantiations of age or purpose or identity or biology – who shall be so small-minded and confident to declare the delimiters of possibility within this realm or any other?
I have noticed this pattern of effectation (sic, or mayhap emanations) in men and women, in their pets, and reciprocated with their environment.
I expect that this law of effects is bidirectional, but any notion of symmetry remains opaque behind fogs of fractal complexity and framing.
Some truths appear as matchsticks lit to flood the unseen terrain with a remembered moment of comprehension that leaves its mark long after the unrelenting wind, upon the field of memories and expectations of paths and trees and a large rock and the angles on a slope.
They may appear as the aligning of a pantheon of minute clues that in an instant reveal invisible lines, disproving monadic singularities, and instead, declaring fabulous machinations and organic synergies. The rain declares its purpose as the hive does its bees – one at a time, independently, and by delineations that shroud the possibility of holistic purpose. Can the water be known while forgetting its drop? Or the drop to the rain; rain to the storm, storm to the heavens that live for aeons carrying nothing but their laws of change.
