It’s Okay

I love you, Mom!

I love you, Mom!

Sunday I was out at the stable with Maycee getting ready for her to have a lesson and for me to accompany her in the arena for a short and easy ride on my horse. Before riding, however, my trainer suggested that I lunge Hi-C in the small round pen first, just to get the wiggles out. I was feeling a bit fatigued and shaky; I hadn’t eaten much but at the same time didn’t feel hungry. Yep, that is fatigue. But, I went ahead and did what was needed, or at least, I tried.

As I entered the round pen with the lunge whip (my saving grace), I told Hi-C to walk. He was nibbling on some teeny weeny pieces of grass between the bars of the pen and the outside. He ignored my (whimpy) command. So, I took the lunge whip and (meekly) swatted his rear and asked again, “Walk.”  Then I raised my voice, “Walk!”  Then I pleaded, “Come on Hi-C….Walk! Pleeeeeease!”  I felt failure creeping up and inside of my veins, and a whispering voice saying, “See, you stink at this.”  Hi-C continue to eat his scraps of grass. I caught him looking at me out of the corner of his eye, little devil.  Even though I felt defeated and insecure in my ability as a (very green) horseman, that look made me release with a smirk.

Dan, the owner of the stable, was up above on his patio barbequeing for his family for the Super Bowl game. He hollered, “Heeeeeeey, who’s the boss down there?!” and, he chuckled heavily. I laughed, too (although I felt like hiding in a hole) and replied, “Not me!” 

Finally, Hi-C, on his own recognizance, decided to begin walking the circle. “Good boy!” I encouraged. I clucked and said, “Trot”, but then WHOOOOOOOA, he decided to trot right towards me in the circle.  Every inch of 1,000 pounds of my tall big-headed horse coming at me. I waved the lunge whip at him high in the air, screamed a light scream (is there such a thing?) and then yelled “NO!” in the most manly voice I could muster after the high-pitched girly screech that came first.

Back out into the circle he went again…trotting….cantering….for a minute…then back at me….another WHOOOOOOOA, and a squeal, then my trainer yelling from out in the distance, “You can do it, Kasey!  Don’t let him be the boss!”

My nerves were shot. Maycee and my trainer’s little girl, K,  were giggling and watching me from the side of the round pen.  After a few successful circles without my big, giant pet wanting to play chase with ME,  I’d had enough, and I let him be. Maycee said, “Moooooom, he’s NOT going to hurt you! Look at him! He’s saying, ‘Hey, where are you going?'” (Yes, he did come over to me with his big ol’ head looking just like that.)  The girls were still giggling, and Hi-C still had that devilish little look in his eyes, but I know he loves me.  And, I knew he wouldn’t hurt me…but my body and brain were not registering the truth with the instinct to remain unharmed as the primary caregiver and sole financial provider to my child and self (wink)!

This wasn’t about Hi-C or my horsemanship, however.  It wasn’t about him not listening, or me not being assertive enough, or doubting that I can gain his respect on the ground, or even overcoming fear. Not this situation.  It simply was “one of those days” that we all have and most of us want to avoid.  We wish that every day, every experience, every moment was easy–that the successes we achieved happened continuously.  But, then, how would we EVER learn to deeply appreciate the spectacular from the mundane?

As I mounted my horse bareback that afternoon and confidently walked and trotted around the arena, my legs hugging his body, showing where I wanted to go with just the thoughts in my mind and slight movement of reigns, I felt free.  It was all okay.  Maycee was having fun during her riding lesson, my horse was behaving just fine without me being perfect, and it was all okay…and I let it go….for another time.

There's always tomorrow.

There’s always tomorrow.

Friends, we love to analyze, we like to pick apart our actions or the behaviors of others (animal or human), but sometimes the situation just…is.  So, for today, let it be or let it go, and live in the light because life is short.  And, as you feel the freedom flowing through you, give a chuckle.  Now, that’s what I’m talking about!




8 responses

  1. I think you are exactly right, sometimes things just are. I had a horse many years ago, he was ‘terrible’. Didn’t like the bit or saddle. Also didn’t like men, never understood this one. Once he was saddled he was fine, just didn’t like to be saddled. He loved to be ridden bareback but this was a dangerous proposition where we lived, out in the bad lands of Texas.

    So there were days, when he was acting badly I would curry him and we simply would not ride.

    • That’s really interesting, Valentine! Horses and all animals have their own traits just like humans do, and some days are more difficult than others. I’m lucky because I lease my horse, and, my trainer works him during the week, uses him for lessons once in awhile (he’s great with kids), and so I don’t have to do a lot of ground work since my riding time is limited. But, one day I want to own my own horse, hopefully when I have a nice size piece of property with a couple of acres to ride freely, so I’m trying to learn everything about the care of horses. Thanks for reading. Love ya! XO


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