Last night we entertained friends in our home, something we used to do regularly, but hadn’t happened in two years.
Two years.
Where did they go?
I had a lesson with Tumbleweed last Wednesday and it went really well. We’re still working on his balance (and mine) between gait changes, but there is an eager willingness in him and a pride in his work
Maturity.
There is also a foundation there.
In my mind, I left off at a not so fun trail ride in 2023, then magically appeared Wednesday with a willing horse, two years later.
What happened in between?
To find out, I reviewed my blog posts.
I found out that the last two years weren’t blank. They were full of, first, working with Tweed on my own to get past the trail issue, and then, second, reaching out to my trainer when I didn’t feel I was focused enough or emotionally present enough to do the important work of bringing Tweed along.
I needed eyes from the ground, a guiding spirit, a mentor.
The most important thing, though, was that I didn’t quit, and the investment is clearly there.
Now that I am coming out of the —what is the word—? I don’t know the right word. But now that I’m coming out of it, I am finding my horse is there ready to greet me.
Like, “Hello, I’ve been waiting for you.”
The nuts and bolts of our work Wednesday was doing exercises that pushed Tweed’s herd bound buttons. My trainer brought her Arab/Thoroughbred mare and rode alongside us and away from us. Tweed was to maintain vertical flexion and then walk, trot, and lope past her and away from her in various scenarios.
There was a third horse there, too, and he ended up also becoming part of the lesson, though it wasn’t planned. It was a friend of mine just there riding her horse for the day.
Tweed did awesome. The goal was to keep his attention with me no matter what happened, and for me to be proactive, rather than reactive.
We discovered that he can be really sensitive/emotional, so my trainer had me take it down a few notches and only “think” about transition changes. Hmmm.
It worked, and we started getting really soft transitions, even from walk to lope. I guess just thinking about a transition change also changes your body, and our horses pick up on it. It’s a sort of magical oneness.
In other news, there is still no news.
About Epona, that is.
Although, her trainer did share a photo.
And, as they say, a picture says a thousand words.
I think the word is "brain fog"
ReplyDeleteGlad life is getting brighter for you guys! What a great lesson with Tweed, love it when you can just think- get a mental image - and it happens! It's is a lightness that gives joy.
This is exactly why I have kept up my blog all these years, it's more of a diary than a need for social engagement- although I always enjoy when other people read and comment!
You’re right Shirley, and that’s what it is for me, too. Life is this big, beautiful journey and we’re constantly moving forward and finding meaning in it all. This is a space to write it down, and if it resonates with someone else, that’s wonderful. There were some little wisdoms I found through the last two years of brain fog, and I’m glad I wrote them down so that I can remember them now and carry them with me.
DeleteI was talking to my daughter the other day, whose heart is still hurting, and I told her it will probably always hurt a little, but we must ask ourselves what there is to learn from it. What is life (or, in my view God) trying to teach us about, not only ourselves, but others. We have to search for it and find little bits of it, because that knowledge will make us stronger.
I wouldn’t ask for suffering, but there is so much that comes to you when you’re broken. You just have to make sure to write it down. 😊