Riding

I got this wonderful in e-mail this morning from a friend who is going through something worse than I am. Her e-mail asking for help and support for herself and her children was full of humor. I know she's very upset about what's happening in her life, but she chose to make a joke out of it in this graceful way. You know how you go through life, and you see what other people do, and sometimes you notice something and you think "I could learn from her." I often have this experience with that person. I admire her very much. She's making soup these days and putting it into her freezer. On Monday, her daughter stopped by with some soup for us!

I feel like a small explosion has gone off in my face -- that everything has been rearranged by a startling force. I want to be graceful and admirable like my friend. But one of the hardest things about this new landscape is that I don't it always admire what I do in response. I've been very emotional, for instance. Yesterday was one of those days when I had a conversation with somebody and I wish I could rewind the clock and or wave a magic wand and have it never have happened.

I guess we all have challenges. I know we all have challenges. The developments of the last few years have often left me feeling helpless. When you go through a divorce and the courts become involved, you lose something that is very precious and that most parents take for granted -- the right to make decisions for your children. One of my children is facing a change that I don't think make sense for him. But that decision is out of my hands. Yesterday, when I was speaking to the person who has the right to make this decision, I was not the calm, cool, collected mother that I always wish I was. I was upset, and it showed. This is unwise -- and probably unpleasant for the person I'm speaking to. I didn't attack her personally, because I like her, but I could have made her job easier by accepting what I can't change.

One of the ways that I keep my perspective in the midst of all the chaos of postdivorce court proceedings, and having the financial underpinnings pulled out from under me, and trying to find wise and responsible ways to recover, is to ride.

I'm sure many of you riders feel this way: that when you ride, all the troubles of the world drop away and you are living and breathing moment to moment in partnership with a creature of amazing elegance -- and I mean elegance in both the physical and spiritual realms. Being with the horse is like being enfolded in a greater spirit, one that helps you find your way to peace. The best riders think like their horses.

I have missed riding more than I can say. Going through all of this without recourse to my most important emotional underpinning is like trying to take a written test with a blindfold on.
So yesterday, I finally gave in.

Rachelle helped me saddle Rocket, and bridle him. She tacked up Meg. I stepped onto a tall bucket and Rocket stood stock still as I leaned on one stir up and then slowly brought my other leg over his back and sat down. He never moved a muscle. Then I took the reins in my left hand and sighed. Home.

After Rachelle mounted, we rode up the driveway, turned right, and walked along the dirt roads to the covered bridge. Rocket went right over the covered bridge for me without any fuss. Meg was a bit afraid of it, but Rachelle is a very confident and experienced rider and she helped Meg get through this initial encounter.

It was a short ride. But we did cross Louis Creek. The water was up to the horses' chests.
I wore my sling. It protects my arm from swinging outward -- the only movement that could actually hurt me badly.

I know, I know, I'm pushing it. From a birds eye view the idea of somebody riding a horse two and half weeks after shoulder surgery seems absurd. But from where I'm sitting, it doesn't. I know this horse. He and I understand each other. It may not look safe, but I feel safe on the back of a horse.