Bridges
The mysterious, connective force in all things
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And Allah took a handful of southerly wind, blew His breath upon it, created the horse, and said: “I have made thee as no other. All the treasures of the earth lie between thine eyes. Thou shalt carry my friends upon thy back. Thy saddle shall be the seat of prayers to me. Thou shalt fly without wings, and conquer without sword, O horse.”
Last Thursday I submitted a book I’ve worked on for about three years to Trafalger Square Press (TSP) for consideration. Well. To be more accurate: I submitted a proposal for a book called, When I Talk About Love, I Talk About Horses. The proposal was accompanied by a sample of 20 pages from the book itself, to give the folk at TSP an idea of my writing style and ability. Should they be interested, I said, the complete manuscript is ready.
That night I took myself out to a great restaurant, sat at the beautiful bar, and toasted the Book with one perfect Bombay Sapphire gin martini. (She was delighted the bar was playing Three Stooges movies with no sound, and we laughed and laughed at the glorious, ridiculous physical comedy of Moe, Larry, and Shemp.)
It is a thing worth toasting, to complete a manuscript to the best of one’s abilities and then send it out into the world to find her physical form. It is a moment.
You are welcome here.
You are welcome if you are full of sorrow. You are welcome if you feel like kicking up your heels in joy and racing across your pasture.
You are welcome if your skin is dark or pale; you are welcome if your hide is Appaloosa, buckskin, chestnut, or bay.
You are welcome no matter your gender; you are welcome if you are a filly or a colt; if you are a mare a stallion or a gelding you are welcome.
But I could not rest, because four days later, I gave a whole service at the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Central Oregon (UUFCO); a service people generally referred to as “the horse service” but which had the title, “When I Talk About Love, I Talk About Horses.” I began the service with the Bedouin story of how the Arabian horse was created. The church pianist played “Wild Horses” as the prelude, the theme to “Mister Ed” during the offertory, and “Back in the Saddle Again” as the postlude. The choir sang a gospel version of Paul Simon’s “Bridge Over Troubled Water,” and the congregation sang Bill Staines’ “Bridges.”
Four years and ten months ago I received what I have come to think of as a profound and wholly unexpected gift, in that something deeply essential returned to me. That something once was so important I lived, breathed, worked, dreamed, and despaired in their company almost every day from ages nine to eighteen. Four years, ten months ago, a mysterious bridge from my past appeared, and along that bridge came horses, clop-clopping their way to my present.
I’d been asked to give a service about horses, and I did indeed educate people about Equus caballus, but in that service I chose to finally speak publicly about my history with equines—how and why I fell into violence and abused them when I was a kid.
bell hooks says, “Love and abuse cannot coexist.” Be it physical, verbal, or mental, if we are within a moment of hurtful words or actions, there is no love present. Because within moments of abuse of any kind, the actions are not positive and do not hold a supreme care for the other being.
It is a thing worth fearing, to stand in front of 200-odd people and confess to hitting, punching, and whipping equines. The congregation listened. The groaned softly at the painful parts of the story. They laughed when it was time to laugh. They held me within profound compassion as I spoke of the worst things about myself.
Bridges are also in the Book.
Icelandic horses were called “the bridges of Iceland.” Iceland has 55 major rivers and myriad additional smaller streams. It also has deep fjords and smaller inlets cut into its rocky sides—and the country didn’t get much in the way of roads or physical bridges until the 1800s. If the settlers of Iceland wanted to traverse the land, they had to cross water and a lot of it. Barring the placement of a convenient bridge proximal to your farm, the best way to get across water was atop your sturdy, sensible, wickedly strong horse who could muscle against a hard current, step carefully through the tumbling rocks underfoot, and deliver you, your kin, and your stuff safely from one side of a river to another. This is why those essential servants of the Icelandic people were referred to as the “bridges of Iceland.”
The Book and my talk at UUFCO spoke to the mysterious connective force that exists in all things.
We are surrounded by invisible bridges. We create them, we receive them. Your bridges may not be covered in fur, eat hay, poop 15 times a day, and have a perpetually long face. Your bridges of healing may be entirely different, and you may not even know what they are at this moment, but I am quite sure the metaphorical bridges that carry us safely across any troubled water of the soul and permit us to walk towards a future self with hope and gratitude, and even fear and despair, do indeed exist for all of us.
Those bridges are created by love. Love is emotional connection AND positive actions on behalf of another. It is love that heals. Love that encourages us to act with compassion, care, and joy.
Love IS the bridge, every time, that allows each of us to cross despondency, addiction, fear, loss, loneliness, and in my case, shame.
When I talk about love, I talk about horses because in their presence I have been carried to the version of myself that is—at last—whole and healed.
Horse, for me, is the face of that mysterious connective force that exists in all things.
Horse is the bridge of love.
Thank you for listening.
And thank you for reading.
If you want to watch the talk:
That said, if you like the writing and want to support horses, you might want to join our Prodigious Pledger Herd. Every dollar you pledge today will go to support an organization that supports horses. We will choose the organization in November and donate our hard-earned dollars in December of each year. You can check out my Substack About page for more information.
I love to hear from you, so feel free to give me a shout by clicking the “Message Katrina” button. It might take some time, but I promise I will respond.
TO THE HORSE!



This is incredible Katy. Congratulations on sending your precious book out into the world. I’m so sorry I missed the talk live but I can’t wait to watch the video. Proud of you.
Thanks for all you are doing.