I have been in the horse world for 13 years now. I’ve owned four horses. My last one, Ruby, I owned for 4 1/2 years. I brought her to Oregon in 2017 when we moved up here. I rode her in three dressage show events. We were a good team. Now she is a therapy horse at Healing Hearts Ranch in Olympia, WA and she’s killing it. She was born for this apparently. I am still grieving for her but I think I am at the same time grieving the possibility that I may not own a horse again or even ride!
I was thinking about it the other day. Initially after Ruby left I rode two horses belonging to my two trainers at the barn. I was doing well and thought I was going to sail on through the whole transition. Saving my money to buy a new horse at some point. Life was good! And then it hit me one morning, about three weeks after giving her up. I was in a state of deep depression. It came to me days later that I was grieving. All of a sudden my future looked like a giant question mark. Would I ever own another horse? Am I just going to walk away from this lifestyle that has been more than just a hobby? That has been my identity?
I tried to force a decision and then decided not to decide, not yet anyway. I would allow myself time to grieve for Ruby and make a decision later. This is not only what I told myself but also my trainer. It seemed reasonable enough. But when do I actually decide? I have never liked living in limbo. But here I am.
There are logical reasons to quit now. I’m older, much older. I have broken my arm, fractured a thumb which required surgery and most recently broke my foot after a fall that caused a concussion, something I have never had. I have also had bad falls that resulted in a black eye and a bruise on the side of my knee where it damaged a nerve leaving that part of my knee numb .
So why did I continue riding? Because when it was good, it was THAT good. It filled my heart. It was my passion. And I LOVE horses.
It’s expensive. VERY expensive. I am retired. It has never made me feel poor or broke but it takes at least a fourth of my total income every month and sometimes more. Good reason to quit? I don’t know.
But it’s who I am, right? I am a horse woman. I have always loved talking about my horse. I used to have a bumper sticker that said, “Ask me about my horse. Have you got all day?”
Now I have all this extra time, 3-4 days per week, with nothing scheduled. What to do? I’m back at the gym more often. That’s good, but then what?
Clearly at some point I will have to do something. Doing nothing is not an option. But life feels unsettling and uncomfortable. Most of my days have no control. Part of me wants to fill them up with horses again. Part of me doesn’t want to. Maybe God has a plan for me but I don’t know what it is. He may let me sit here in limbo for a while, being uncomfortable. Hmm.
Have you been there? I think of athletes who get injured and are told they can never compete again. That has to be devastating. I’m not even being told that. I am doing this to myself! Life happens. Change happens. We have to go with it because fighting it makes you crazy and miserable. I repeat, I am volunteering for this! Why? On some level I believe there is something else I am supposed to do now. But again, I have no idea what that looks like.
And so I wait, sans horses and sans a plan. In a weird way I am out of my comfort zone, even though I am in my own home. I have heard it is good to learn how to live in the discomfort. Will it make me stronger? More prepared? Wiser? I haven’t a clue. I just know I don’t like it here.
I remember being in Art Class in the fifth grade. The teacher gave us all a blank sheet of paper, put on a piece of music, probably classical, and told us to draw what came to mind. I remember feeling utterly lost. While others got right to it, I sat there without a clue. That’s kind of how I see the days ahead of me. Blank sheets of paper. Maybe if I surrender to the unknown. Give up the idea of filling up the days just to fill up the days. Maybe if I just relax and see what happens. Perhaps it will come to me when I am not desperate to fill that sheet of paper. That bloody, blank sheet of paper called my life. Stay tuned. God bless.
