I completely understand being afraid of things that are scary, but what really grinds my gears is when I’m afraid of things that I really love and actually want to do.
I had planned on just lunging Drishti today and slowly working my way back to being in the saddle (because the last 196 days haven’t been long enough) over the next week. But then I was there, and he was there, and it was quiet, and I decided that I’d had enough of being afraid of doing things I love.
It wasn’t easy though.
I parked him beside the mounting block, climbed up the steps, and then stood there and cried for about 15 minutes. Poor horse looked at me like I was crazy. All I could think was he was green to start with and now he’s had 6 months off – I’m in terrible shape – if I fall off no one knows I’m here. So I fixed that by sending a picture of me staring at my horse to my friend. There, at least if I was never heard from again someone would know where I was and that I died doing what I loved (ugh).
After a while I realized I wasn’t going to be able to get on using the mounting block. Heaven forbid I take the easy path. So I lowered a stirrup a couple holes and climbed on the old fashioned way. Good thing I was too busy focussing on not dying so I forgot I didn’t have enough strength or mobility in my left arm to do what I was asking. But I did it, I got on, he didn’t freak out, we went for a ride.
I schooled him, we did circles, serpentines, and then suddenly out of nowhere C turned into a monster and he had a massive spook at it. Why C? Why not! I was riding English this time and I was quite pleased to discover I still know how to hang on in that saddle anyway.
I love riding, it does something for my soul that nothing else can do. I can’t even explain the feeing except that it is what bliss feels like. I am so grateful that I found my Drishti, when I’m with him the stress of the world vanishes and all there is just happiness.
He had a big happy roll after