I think I need therapy. Wow, that is such a loaded statement when you look at it. Let me explain. I have been so confused as of late. I have been doing a lot of self-reflecting in the last few days; which, when your reflections are full of doubt and frustration is that really a good time to be evaluating your life? Or is it the best time, when you are the most vulnerable and can be the most truthful with yourself? My mom advised me to write down my thoughts. She told me that her blog helps her ask questions, sort her thoughts, and just maybe help the people that read it. So, I thought I would take the advice. What can it hurt, right? I don’t know if this is going to turn into a blog or if I am just going to do this for myself. Those that know me well know I don’t take a lot of time for myself. They also know I care way too much about what the world thinks of me. Maybe that in it’s self is more reason than any to take a little time for myself even if it is in confliction. Only time will tell, but in the mean time I still have a lot of questions to answer.
All therapy does is help you reflect on your past experiences and figure out how they have shaped your life. Maybe in order to change, I need to figure out where I went off track. Looking at the empty room on this page, I hope that by talking to this unbiased, non-commenting, and no suggestions computer screen maybe I can finally roll up my sleeves and write my way through my confusion. And with any therapy you have to start at the beginning right? So, here we go…
I don’t think I really know where the beginning is. At the moment all I know is- I don’t want to ride. I don’t even want to spend time with my horses. And even as I write the words I can’t believe it about myself. I’m just not this person and it is a very sad and troubling feeling. I have been riding horses since I have been four. My parents got us a little Shetland pony named Ginger. We pulled a cart with her down the gravel road to our neighbors and back. She also ate the flowers off of thistle plants.
Over the years, our family has had more horses than I can count. I think the last time we tried to write down all the names of all the horses that have entered our lives I believe we were close to 70 or so. There are definitely those that left lasting impressions on my life. There was Streak, a very stock 15.3-hand paint gelding. Streak would head back to the barn when he was ready to be done and was just way too much horse for a 5-year-old girl, even though that same girl cried the day his new owners showed up with a trailer.Skipa came into our lives when I was 7. I think she was the first one to really shape the kind of love that I used to feel for horses. Skipa was a babysitter. She was one of those truly special horses that you just don’t come across very often. She taught my two brothers and me how to ride. She carried us through many classes and she gave us our first of many “special wins.” As each one of us grew out of her, she was passed down to the next. She once again shared her willingness and wisdom with yet another. Once we all had moved on to younger, less experienced, more advanced horses, she became a broodmare, and brought two beautiful sorrel fillies into this world. One, Starlet, still lives at the farm. I don’t think she will ever have another home…I don’t think any of us could part with that special link to such a great horse. I still remember with great sadness the day Skipa colicked for the final time. Her rectal wall had essentially disintegrated after the birth of her second foal. I remember crying that day. Skipa made it through the night and I remember the next morning my mom telling my dad she couldn’t bring herself to putting Skipa out of her misery even though that was for the best. Somehow Skipa knew how hard that was for us and passed away quietly, just leaving many great memories and our tears behind.
Over the years, we raised and trained many pleasure babies. I remember the first foal that was “mine” as a two-year-old. His name was Beau. He wasn’t much to look at, but if you looked at his heart he was filled with so much love and kindness. His first ride was on Easter Sunday in a side pull out in the soybean field by our house and he carried a 12 year-old-girl like he had done it a million times. Each year, mom gave me a bigger challenge, mentally, talent-wise, or what expectations each were to achieve.
My greatest training accomplishment was Royboy. Not only did Royboy and I have great success in the show ring, my youngest brother showed him with much success as well. I don’t know who owns him now, I don’t know what he is being used for, all I know is how privileged I am to have the opportunity to say I helped sculpt the horse he is today. There were also many more. Barrel horses, reining and working cow horses, hunter under saddle horses, halter horses, colts bought, trained and sold to pay for college. Each taught me so much about a new discipline, a new way of looking at the same love I had, and another level of confidence.
Through it all, there was one horse that will always stand out in my mind and will always have a special place in my heart, one that no other can compete with and one that no other could fill. His name is Zips JR Mint, “JR”. He was a gorgeous Zippos Mr Good Bar red roan gelding. You know, so many people like a horse that fits in with the crowd, but I am not one of them. I love having a horse that stands out, one that is recognizable from a distance, and one that you can’t miss. Now, I do have to admit that it didn’t always work in my favor but I still love having Quarter Horses with unique appearances. A roan, a grulla, a couple of duns, a black, and the only bays and sorrels had lots of white. JR and I developed a special bond. We were so in tune with each other. I knew his moods and habits. I knew that he wouldn’t relieve himself at a horse show without being untacked and put into the horse trailer. I knew that he hated being shown at night during a thunderstorm or right beside a train track as a train approached. I knew that he was anxious and nervous when you put him on the rail. I knew that no matter how clean his stall was and how well you blanketed him at a show, he would always have a poop stain on his left gaskin that next morning. I knew that every showmanship spin and setup for inspection we did he would nail. I knew that when I needed that amazingly spectacular horsemanship pattern, he would rise to the challenge and put the crowd on their feet applauding. Years later when I came home to cheer on my brother and JR went on to teach a much younger girl, people would come up to me and ask, “You were that girl with the red roan, right?” That was an amazing feeling. That a horse could mold me into something special. That years later, I would be known and remembered because of a horse…one very, very special horse.
Years after I was done showing as a youth, people would tell my mom how great I would have been with a better horse, one with more talent. And they are right. Who knows how competitive I would have been on the national circuit. But you know what? I wouldn’t have traded that success for all of the lessons JR taught me. He taught me how to ride. Not sit on a horse and trot and lope, but how to really ride. Because of him, I could get on any horse and make them better by the lessons JR taught me. After selling JR, I would come home and help his new girl become better. So many times I would tell her to “hop off and let me show her what it looks like.” I don’t know if she ever realized I just wanted to get back up there and have a moment of fond memories of all the great times I had with him. I never told her that doing 8 flying lead changes down one side of the arena was not to “show her what she was capable of” but more to remind me of how amazing we were together. Looking back on my time with him, he taught me so much more. He taught me about maturity, about respect, about true happiness, about letting your problems just melt away and focus on the good and now. He was my therapy. He could fix any problem. Anything rough in my life melted away the second I climbed in the saddle. Even though I had other horses to ride each day, he was the one that I looked forward to. JR was my therapy…no horse has come close to taking his place in my heart. Is that the source of all of my confliction? I lost my therapist and I have yet to find one that I can trust with my deepest emotions?
I believe in one true love. My husband is my strength, my rock, my cheerleader, and my best friend. I believe he is the only one out there for me, and I thank God every night that He brought Jake into my life forever. Lately, he seems to know me better than I know myself, and I pray that he has the patience and understanding to help me find what I am searching for. I believe he is my one true love. Is it possible that we only get one true “horse love” in this world also? Is it possible that I may never find another horse that knows my soul as JR did? Or is it possible that another horse will exceed the love I had for that special horse? What if there is another horse that can provide me with that high? Am I scared that I will forget about the horse that shaped my childhood?
I used to love sitting on a bucket and watching the babies in the pasture.. I loved going into the barn and taking in the smells. I loved giving a horse an extra flake of hay and just hanging out with a brush in hand. I lived in the barn…I thrived for that comfort. And now? I barely take the time to rub my hand down each of “my girls” as I throw them grain. I feel that after spending time “working” with the yearling I have to move to the next project on the checklist. I don’t even know the last time I took a cookie out to the pasture with me. And I’m not this person. How did I come to this place? I couldn’t wait to buy an acreage so my girls could be at home so I could spend so much more time with them. I waited for that day for four years since getting married. And now that that dream is a reality? I can’t even take the time to go say “hi”? Yes, I’m busy…working full time and a 4 month-old daughter. But have I gotten that busy that I don’t have time for my “other kids”? How could I have gotten that busy? How come it doesn’t hurt in my soul like it should that I don’t know my horses like I knew those from my childhood?
I couldn’t sell my horses. I know in my heart I couldn’t give it up. I know I would be more lost without them than I am right now. So where do I go from here? How do I find my “horse love” again? How do I turn my horses into my new therapists? I think it is like meeting anyone new. You have to get past the awkward silences, the fear that they may judge and have faith. Just faith… just faith and love.
Where do I start?
I need to just love the yearling, Chex. I need to not worry about saddling him in a year and having him working a cow. I need to sit in his pen on a bucket and watch him. Watch his mannerisms, watch for the things that peak his interest, watch his movement to get a feel of Chex. I need to relax with Chex and start a therapeutic relationship.
I need to appreciate Peaches. She is a klutz. She really is. But I guess that makes us a good team. My mom used to tell me “how can you be so klutzy on the ground, and then you get on a horse…” She is a klutz with a big heart. She wants to be your best friend and just wants to be loved. Peaches is never going to be “Quarter Horse Show Quality”. I know that. But, she is going to be a great broodmare and a great teacher. I would love for my daughter to have a “Skipa”… a horse that shows her the love that only a horse can give her. I need to get her ready for her job…I need to show her how to be a good teacher by being a good teacher to her.
Roz. Oh, this horse just makes me sigh. I don’t know what to do with her. My mom thinks I should sell her. Watching her move she has so much potential, very raw potential. And yet after three years, that potential is still raw. Is what I think is a mental block something much more? There are so many questions with this one. I think the best place to start with her is to reflect. I think I need to reflect on what the truly great horsemen would do. The truly great horsemen have such a special gift. I am a good horsewoman, and I truly want to aspire to hold a small piece of greatness that some of the legends have. I think that is what all of us horse lovers want. If I focus on that reflection, I know that I will start to break down her walls and get somewhere. What is somewhere? At the moment, I’d have to say completing a whole circle at a walk. I know, that sounds so trivial, but that is where we are at and that is where we must start. One circle at a walk.
I think this unbiased, non-commenting, and no suggestions computer screen may not be such a bad listener after all. Three pages and a few hours of reflection sure has made my heart feel lighter. Maybe my self-doubt and frustrations can work themselves out. Maybe I can find myself again through a little horse therapy. No! I shouldn’t say maybe. Maybe means I still have doubts and therapy has to remove those doubts. I will find myself again with a little horse therapy. You know, writing that sentence actually brought a smile to my face and quite a bit of joy to my heart. I haven’t felt that about myself in a long time and I liked that feeling.
There is still a lot of talking left to do. But for now, I am going to kiss my baby girl on the cheek, tell my husband I love him, thank the Lord for this wonderful day, and for the first night in a long time fall asleep with a smile in my heart. Hopefully, my dreams will once again be filled with horses. Hopefully I can feel the power of a ride again…
