On the Culling that Unites US
In 2016, I first started learning about equine-partnered learning, thanks, in part to my coaching colleague, Andrea Leda. Those next few years became a fork-in-the-road chunk of timeline for me. I got myself an equine coach, volunteered at Wild Horse Mountain Ranch (Sherwood, OR), and, after a diverse set of trainings, settled on earning my own certification through Linda Kohanov and Eponaquest.
All of this is to introduce the notion of culling, a term emerging from the wild and integrating into my study of non-predatory power systems with my equine friends. In my experiences with horses and horse herds, I was surprised to learn how brutal and shrewd wild herds can be when the lifeblood of the group depends on it. Babies who can’t stand (and move) in a matter of minutes may be culled by a stallion. Immature males can be exiled months later. The fierce act of protecting the collective, it would seem, interweaves even the most peaceful species.
It helps me to lay this out for myself in the context of placing my own desire and focus into transformation. Often, I will avoid the reality of culling in daily life, which equates to everyday things like professional boundaries, imbalanced friendships, brash neighbors, solicitors, school parents who alleviate responsibility for their child (more likely themselves) by blaming other students, and the general marketing of needs and demands, which, with internet algorithms, can be constant and obscene. When I’m allowing all of this to invade my inner herd, I’m left exhausted, resentful, and overwhelmed.
But, as I explore the warm trails (another equine metaphor) in healthy culling (deleting emails, confronting neighbors and school parents, turning off social media notifications, moving away from eating so much processed food, sugar, caffeine, etc), my inner world churns anew. Culling with integrity generates energy.
When I expand this awareness into my friends, community, and country, I sense we’re all grappling with an imminent need for systemic transformation, regardless of political worldview. Social structure, infrastructure, superstructure, all of it screams for some critical shift. As I center my third attractor practice, this fuels me to remember my power lies, not in concerning myself with actual systemic strategies (though, they can be fun), but in the belief of what is possible, against all evidence. For, if we collapse into cynicism or disbelief, that third attractor potential vanishes, and whoever you claim as the almighty “they” wins (but, really, nobody “wins,” “they” just lose last).
I’ve never met anyone in my adulthood who looks at the current state of civilization and says, ‘well, I think we’ve got this thing humming!’ We’re ready for a mindful culling of what most threatens our survival as a species, and I don’t think it has much (if anything) to do with political parties, candidates, or rhetoric. In fact, if there is a “they,” my sense is the parties, candidates, and our digital memetic obsession are ideal noise keeping us all from honing in on the resonant signal.
It’s possible this signal rings through when we cull the stories carrying us from one epoch to the next; stories of conquest, domination, and separateness. Because the age of exponential growth is coming to an end, with or without us, and the better we are at trading in our staticky programs for bolder, richer overtones, the better shot we have at joining those who continue on.
Thank you for reading! Below are my three latest chapter readings for my debut novel, Transcendents, currently available in paperback, hopefully in ebook by the end of the year.
Chapter 4: May awakens to a contentious Base council meeting
Chapter 5: GU Water Filtration worker, Adam Aaron, finds himself caught between purpose and family
Chapter 6: Levi navigates the erupting big island and his own sanity
Chapter 7: In order to save her community, May makes a decision that may exile her from it.