john_braswell2
Writing essay
Buy Essay Online Safe about Temptation Zero - Responsibility Won
A young girl who has just been accepted into one of the most prestigious art schools in North America, was over for a visit. She was to start in September and while she was waiting for her student visa to come through (she is from the US)she was cleaning stables and feeding horses. She loved the horses and did not mind the work. But there she sat before me, beyond miserable as she recounted to me the number of owners who were making her life a living hell and reducing her to tears on a daily basis. Needed the money, needed the job; did not need the abuse. She wanted to quit. She wanted to turn down her acceptance. She wanted to retreat across the 49th parallel.
To give you a bit of background on the owners - A bit of Canadian history, particularly British Columbia is that certain areas were predominantly settled yea those many years ago, by the second son’s of British nobility. Here they duplicated the large, landed estates and all the trappings that went along with where they had spent their childhoods. These colonists are more British than the British and still adhere to traditions that have been considerable watered down in the “motherland” with the passage of time.
Existing in this time warp, their days are spent “gadding about” and figuring out new and wonderful ways to spend the gobs of money dolled out to them through trusts. They treat their stable “help” worse much worse that is been cleaned out of the stalls and mete out much the same treatment to anyone else they deem to be “beneath” them. As I am listening to this young girl pour out her distress as to how she is being treated I can feel this vortex of energy building up and sucking me into it. I used to ride in the Fox Hunt with many of these people and those of their ilk. I know of what this young lady speaks. So I feel this vortex pulling at both my ankles and I’m having a real time of it keeping my coaching pants on.
I have felt the disdain of which she spoke directed towards me as I insisted on riding bareback in the “Fox Hunt” (major break with tradition) often with my hardhat on backwards as it tended to fall down on the bridge of my nose when going over jumps, thus impairing my vision. I was a particular thorn in the side to those who wore the “redcoats” but most tolerated me because of my parents who organized the scented route of the hunt utilizing our land as our neighbours. This coupled with the fact that if their well bred, dual named steeds, out of Noble Question by Kingdom Ruler refused a jump or a part of the run, I would bring my *Out of Kamloops by Truck* (see footnote) wonder horse Jerry to the head of the field and lead these horses at least two names city-slicker pampered sissies through whatever it was that was distressing them – most often it was mud. One day one “chap” could no longer contain his outrage and riding up tome with steam trailing behind him he puffed out in a very commanding tone, “You are dismissed from the field.” I shot back at him the only defense I could grab onto, “You can’t dismiss me, my parents are…..so and so….. Well what can I say, feeble yes, taking responsibility no, but it worked. All this came to mind and much, much more as the young girl was sharing her story and I could feel the pull…BIG SUCKING WITCH ONE….and what pulled me out was“agreement creates reality which is different from the truth”. I recognized that I could not help her if I continued going into agreement with her on how horrible these people were and how victimized she was by their treatment. Another pull out of the sucking vortex – in order to help the person in front of me I had to put her FIRST. When I did that, a miracle occurred.
The sobbing, wretched girl left an aspiring artist with an amazing future ahead of her. All I did was ask her to take the viewpoint of an artist. Then I asked her if she could duplicate on canvas and in clay the features and moods of those people she was having difficulty with. She said that she could. I told her that Van Gogh swept floors and cleaned up paint for years before he picked up a brush. I asked her if she could view these people as stepping stones to her fulfilling her dream of becoming an accomplished artist by using these people as "models" - not to aspire to be like but to study as "subjects". "Yes, she answered excitedly, "yes, yes, I can!" Her face brightened even more as I asked her if she could imagine the people who were giving her a hard time now, clambering to purchase one of her works in the future, she’s an artist – she totally got the vision of that. Then I asked her if she could approach her work at the stables as part of her study to master her craft. She laughed and said, Yes! I phoned her a couple of weeks later and asked her how it was going at work, she said, “It’s great, they don’t treat me like that anymore.”
This young lady is now currently finishing up her studies at the prestigious Emily Carr Institute ofArt and Design in Vancouver, British Columbia.
*Footnote
*Kamloops is a city in the heart of "cattle country" in the interior of the province of British Columbia. For those of you unfamiliar with horse breeding the bloodlines are traced through dam and sire with the offspring being referred to as Out of (name of dam) By (name of sire). While the other "steeds" in the hunt were as blue blooded as their owners, Jerry was the horse version of a mutt hence my description of his bloodlines - Out of Kamloops by Truck (the means by which he was transported to the Fraser Valley in the Lower Mainland area of the province)
Writing essay
Buy Essay Online Safe about Temptation Zero - Responsibility Won
A young girl who has just been accepted into one of the most prestigious art schools in North America, was over for a visit. She was to start in September and while she was waiting for her student visa to come through (she is from the US)she was cleaning stables and feeding horses. She loved the horses and did not mind the work. But there she sat before me, beyond miserable as she recounted to me the number of owners who were making her life a living hell and reducing her to tears on a daily basis. Needed the money, needed the job; did not need the abuse. She wanted to quit. She wanted to turn down her acceptance. She wanted to retreat across the 49th parallel.
To give you a bit of background on the owners - A bit of Canadian history, particularly British Columbia is that certain areas were predominantly settled yea those many years ago, by the second son’s of British nobility. Here they duplicated the large, landed estates and all the trappings that went along with where they had spent their childhoods. These colonists are more British than the British and still adhere to traditions that have been considerable watered down in the “motherland” with the passage of time.
Existing in this time warp, their days are spent “gadding about” and figuring out new and wonderful ways to spend the gobs of money dolled out to them through trusts. They treat their stable “help” worse much worse that is been cleaned out of the stalls and mete out much the same treatment to anyone else they deem to be “beneath” them. As I am listening to this young girl pour out her distress as to how she is being treated I can feel this vortex of energy building up and sucking me into it. I used to ride in the Fox Hunt with many of these people and those of their ilk. I know of what this young lady speaks. So I feel this vortex pulling at both my ankles and I’m having a real time of it keeping my coaching pants on.
I have felt the disdain of which she spoke directed towards me as I insisted on riding bareback in the “Fox Hunt” (major break with tradition) often with my hardhat on backwards as it tended to fall down on the bridge of my nose when going over jumps, thus impairing my vision. I was a particular thorn in the side to those who wore the “redcoats” but most tolerated me because of my parents who organized the scented route of the hunt utilizing our land as our neighbours. This coupled with the fact that if their well bred, dual named steeds, out of Noble Question by Kingdom Ruler refused a jump or a part of the run, I would bring my *Out of Kamloops by Truck* (see footnote) wonder horse Jerry to the head of the field and lead these horses at least two names city-slicker pampered sissies through whatever it was that was distressing them – most often it was mud. One day one “chap” could no longer contain his outrage and riding up tome with steam trailing behind him he puffed out in a very commanding tone, “You are dismissed from the field.” I shot back at him the only defense I could grab onto, “You can’t dismiss me, my parents are…..so and so….. Well what can I say, feeble yes, taking responsibility no, but it worked. All this came to mind and much, much more as the young girl was sharing her story and I could feel the pull…BIG SUCKING WITCH ONE….and what pulled me out was“agreement creates reality which is different from the truth”. I recognized that I could not help her if I continued going into agreement with her on how horrible these people were and how victimized she was by their treatment. Another pull out of the sucking vortex – in order to help the person in front of me I had to put her FIRST. When I did that, a miracle occurred.
The sobbing, wretched girl left an aspiring artist with an amazing future ahead of her. All I did was ask her to take the viewpoint of an artist. Then I asked her if she could duplicate on canvas and in clay the features and moods of those people she was having difficulty with. She said that she could. I told her that Van Gogh swept floors and cleaned up paint for years before he picked up a brush. I asked her if she could view these people as stepping stones to her fulfilling her dream of becoming an accomplished artist by using these people as "models" - not to aspire to be like but to study as "subjects". "Yes, she answered excitedly, "yes, yes, I can!" Her face brightened even more as I asked her if she could imagine the people who were giving her a hard time now, clambering to purchase one of her works in the future, she’s an artist – she totally got the vision of that. Then I asked her if she could approach her work at the stables as part of her study to master her craft. She laughed and said, Yes! I phoned her a couple of weeks later and asked her how it was going at work, she said, “It’s great, they don’t treat me like that anymore.”
This young lady is now currently finishing up her studies at the prestigious Emily Carr Institute ofArt and Design in Vancouver, British Columbia.
*Footnote
*Kamloops is a city in the heart of "cattle country" in the interior of the province of British Columbia. For those of you unfamiliar with horse breeding the bloodlines are traced through dam and sire with the offspring being referred to as Out of (name of dam) By (name of sire). While the other "steeds" in the hunt were as blue blooded as their owners, Jerry was the horse version of a mutt hence my description of his bloodlines - Out of Kamloops by Truck (the means by which he was transported to the Fraser Valley in the Lower Mainland area of the province)