I can’t ride for two weeks (well, maybe not quite that long) because of surgery #2 out of 3 last Thursday. The journey thus far to fix a silly little … Continue reading Two down, one to go, and other paradigm shifts
“Just waiting on the other shoe to drop” refers to anticipating a typically unpleasant event. It comes from the crowded living quarters on the east coast when, at night, an … Continue reading Dropped shoes
I’ve never gotten to participate in the storied torture/tradition of No Stirrup November in my years of riding, so if being excited about it after my first lesson makes me crazy, I’ll gladly hold that title. After fretting over the microsleep at the show on Sunday, I had a great ride on Wednesday with M and then rode again on Friday with the pony club kids who were doing mounted games. In all reality, a few simple choices would have likely prevented the episode from occurring, and it does me no good to dwell on it.
On Wednesday Divine initially continued her lackadaisical demeanor from Sunday, but once she realized we were getting to do her favorite thing (canter), she was insistent on a trot speed that offered the best chance for falling into a canter. So that was slightly painful until after she had a good five minutes of trot-canter-trot transitions circling about the arena. M had an understandably more difficult time on Eli, who’s trot I would liken to a slow-motion, extra-springy pogo-stick that could quite literally bounce someone out of the tack should they start giggling (may or may not have happened in this lesson…).
Friday I was excited to do games like the egg and spoon race and whatever crazy relay they came up with, on Pretty, the 12 hand wonder/devil pony, but after my futile attempts to catch her, I was bequeathed with Rain instead. Rain is a WhoTheHellKnowsBred that most closely resembles a Dutch Harness horse. She came off the slaughter lot, learned a ton with trainer MS, was sold and then returned (but not before being almost completely soured) and has been worked intermittently since. I actually liked her a lot, but completely emphasize with M now – MS warned me that she has yet to sit her trot, and my measly attempts were met with some pinned ears from her and a quick return to posting on my part unless I wanted to eventually part ways with her. Even with a bucking fit (due to a loose girth, my fault) and a mini-meltdown from a hula-hoop (not totally unreasonable), I never felt afraid or like I was going to come off.
I mention that for two reasons. One is because when I started back riding in June after a over a year off, I was seriously questioning if I’d still have my nerve and “pick up the bike-ness” so to speak. Two is that it’s baffling to me that I can be so calm with a spooky or actively bucking horse and then terrified about some additional medical testing I’m having done this week. Objectively, I’d say that’s probably because I have a lot more experience with horses and a lot less with obscure diagnostics which I have no idea how my body will react to. And that seems… pretty obvious. But what am I trying to prove by admitting the later and building myself up with the former? Why’s that question important? I’ve got no answer to either question.
Seeing as I now write for The Mighty and The Odyssey in addition to this quiet corner of mine, I’ll probably be cross-sharing more. Hopefully it’s not seen as laziness; if I write something, I now have three disjointed arenas I’m considering, and I’d like to try and have all my original work at a home base of sorts. Right now, that’s not very organized, but it’ll improve. So, without further delay:
A quote I see floating around on Pinterest frequently is “what screws us up most in life is the picture in our head of how it is supposed to be.”
I had a specific idea of how my life should be six months out from graduation. At the time, it seemed pretty realistic; I accounted for some struggles, but also assumed there’d be some successes and left space for “come what may.”
For instance, my new home didn’t have to be anything fancy, though I really wanted a porch or balcony and a cozy corner where me and and a dog can cuddle up with a book on a rainy day. I probably still have ten “what the hell am I doing” moments a day at my job, but love the people I work with and am making enough to cover my loan payments and complain when I can’t do something because of said loan payments. When I get a little overtime, I treat myself to some riding lessons and a deposit in a piggy bank designated “world travel.” I’ve probably made some friends whose company I genuinely enjoy, though still likely feel lonely or a little lost sometimes (and have already downloaded and deleted Tinder at least twice); but when a cute boy takes me on an honest-to-goodness date, and I come home and tell the mutt puppy I adopted about how much fun I had, I am wholly and completely in the moment and ready for whatever comes next.
Start going too far and it’s easy to see how you can get lost in it. What do you do when it’s not how you pictured?
You’re hella confused, first off. Especially if you supposedly followed the steps to get to the picture. AP classes in high school? Check. Plenty of activities and sports? Check. Accepted at a good in-state university? Yep. Graduate after being involved in more things than you can keep track of, a full-time internship, and with some honors? Check check. Then you’re angry – you put in the work, where’s your prize? Why did this turn out so differently? They say to begin with the end in mind, and you’re sure you did that; like that one frame on your wall that just won’t stay straight, you’ve dutifully tweaked and tilted it almost every day back to where it should be, and should stay.
One day you come home to find the whole thing on the floor, glass shattered and picture ripped and punctured in places. Where the frame used to be are all the additional holes and knicks made in an attempt to get the damn thing to just. stay. straight.
I’m realizing that while I was so concerned about keeping this frame of “how it should be” straight, I never considered that I could move it somewhere else or change the picture itself. Why do I let myself be constrained to this one picture in this one place?
“There’s no time like the present.”
When was the last time you just thought about yourself in this very moment? How about this one? And now? Have you moved since three moments ago? Been in the presence of other people? Checked your phone? Felt some sunshine? Felt cold?
If you’ve read this far, you’ll never go back to the exact moment when you started reading this. I’m not in the same moment as when I first started writing this, and actually this has turned out very differently than what I was expecting. For several days I was determined to write exactly what I had in mind, and I made zero progress. Frustrated, angry, and ready to say screw it because what am I even trying to say?
Then I deleted over half of this and decided to just write. Funny what happens when you decide you don’t need to be anything. I know I’m not the only back living at home, or the only one who’s health has derailed more than one plan. I know I’m not the only one who misses the comfort and vibrancy of my college town, finding myself wistfully scrolling through this feed or that of all the people still there. I know I’m not the only one who wonders if they’re a failure for not getting that first job break in spite of being fully qualified and “doing everything you were supposed to.”
So, what do you do when it’s not how you pictured? You decide if you want to leave the mess as it is and complain about it, or if you’re going to take what you can, clean up the rest, and start making something new. I’m making something new; no idea what it’ll turn out to be, nor do I want to know right now. The important thing is starting.
I was here. Probably sweating, possibly tipsy, and definitely screaming with everyone else each time we (frequently) screwed up a play, handed our opponent a gentle first down, or left … Continue reading Three years ago today..