In which I remember and am regretful

I used to go horseback riding all the time. Well, not all the time but at least once a week. And to be honest, I loved it. I loved that it was really all about me and the horse, that I was talking to someone else, not with my voice but with my hands, with my entire body really. I loved that when I was riding a favorite horse, I could just lean back and hold my hands just so and all of a sudden, they'd look perfect, like we were a flawless team. I loved that too, I loved that I was on a team where I couldn't loose.

[We're brought up learning all about teams, about how no one is supposed to loose when they're on a team, that everyone is equal, that everyone is a valued member. I think this is very rarely true.]

But when I was on a horse, I was on a wonderful sort of team. I wasn't being picked last, I wasn't being teased or yelled at for not passing the ball or being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I liked that most of all.

Horseback riding can be a very individual sport though too. We [the horse and I] did what we felt like and if I didn't want to do a show, we didn't. When I felt pressured, I switched teachers and informed my teacher I didn't want to be in shows, I just wanted to learn. And that worked for me very well.

I found three very perfect horses during my time riding. First there was Dina, an older horse who was perfect for me when I was just a beginner. Then came Brandy, a younger horse who I probably would have learned to jump with if I had chosen to go that path. She was the horse I rode in my first show and I found that despite our bad beginning [she nearly kicked me in the head after my first lesson on her], I had an easy dialog with her, I could understand her moods easier then other friends who had ridden her. It made me feel special, like I had some secret magic that no one else had.

And last, there was Witt, the horse that belonged to some other woman who allowed him to be ridden by riding students in exchange for free board. He was the horse that everyone hated, the one that kicked and bit and did all manner of nasty things to people he didn't like, which was pretty much everyone. I was told I was going to try riding him shortly after I announced my instructor that I refused to learn to jump and I wanted to learn dressage because it was much prettier and much more interesting to watch. Of course I was terrified but I did try one lesson on him, swearing it would be my only one after he refused to listen to me for the most part. But I was put on him again and then again and by my second lesson with him, I actually found I liked him and that he liked me. He became "my horse," the one that only I [and his owner] rode. I could pass his stall and he wouldn't bite and make faces. It was an amazing connection. I actually learned a lot on him and I came to really love him.

However I was still a little terrified about some past bad experiences and so, after I started high school, I stopped riding, claiming I had no time. I finally decided I wanted to go back in my junior year because I missed that connection like mad.

But I never did. I deeply regret that. Not going back was one of the worst decisions I have made. Every time I see something around horses on tv or I hear someone talking about their horse, I can't help but cry. It breaks my heart that I gave up something I loved so much for something as stupid as fear.

I often feel like it's too late, like there's no chance for me to ride again. I don't know that that's true though. I hope it's not. One day I want to go back. Maybe when I go to NY, I will scrape together the money to take lessons again. Spending time on and around barns has always kept me upbeat, even if it's just menial task work, like cleaning stalls and doling out feed. I think it's just spending time with animals that keeps me happy. Maybe I can call it therapy and give myself more excuse to actually start riding again. After all, I'm not going to be seeing a therapist after I leave, maybe something more informal will be just the ticket to keep me sane.

We'll see. One thing I know.

I will go back one day. Sooner rather than later.

Quote of the Day
He's of the colour of the nutmeg. And of the heat of the ginger.... he is pure air and fire; and the dull elements of earth and water never appear in him, but only in patient stillness while his rider mounts him; he is indeed a horse, and all other jades you may call beasts. ~William Shakespeare, Henry V