... over at Good Food. Mmmmm...
September 23, 2010
September 22, 2010
Discovering Again Why I Ride
I have been riding horses for over 20 years now. That's hard to believe! My first riding lesson was a gift for my 7th birthday. So the 27th birthday I just celebrated was a milestone in many ways! I don't think anyone could have guessed 20 years ago how big of an impact horses would have on my life. Without them, I would not be the person I am today. I probably wouldn't be married to my husband. I most certainly would not be living where I am. I can't even begin to imagine all the ways my life would be different.
When I was little, I rode simply because I loved horses. Through high school, I enjoyed the friends I made and I also did chores at the farm, but it was still the passion for the animal that kept me coming back every day, getting up at the crack of dawn (or earlier) for shows, and spending every spare minute I could riding, thinking about, or just being with horses.
After college, I took a job as a trainer, assistant manager, riding teacher, and pretty much all-around right-hand-woman to my friend and high school trainer at her new farm. I threw myself into the work, fully committed to my job and thankful I could make money doing something that was also a passion (an aside - other than babysitting, I have never held a job that did not include horses!). I regularly worked 70+ hour weeks, was on call any time of the day or night, and did everything from patching up wounds (or helping the vet do so) to polishing up expensive show horses before they went in the ring. Every "non-horse person" I knew thought I was crazy. But to Luke and I, when you work with animals, they are your life. They don't take a break from living or having needs, so you don't take a break from caring for them.
I also trained, often working with and riding five or more horses each day. The constant changing and adjusting to each different horse and each different issue was interesting and challenging. I learned a lot and am thankful for the experience I had.
But somewhere along the way I lost the joy. The pure, unadulterated love of horses I felt as a child. The reason I started riding in the first place. Somehow, training, riding, and working at the farm became more about pleasing my boss and proving myself to be a wonderful employee and friend than simply about the horses. I strove to always fulfill and attempt to exceed her high expectations - setting myself up for failure and her for disappointment. Don't get me wrong, I still enjoyed the work. But I also had this nagging knowledge and fear that I could never be quite good enough. Instead of being the best I could be, I wanted to be perfect.
Due in part to the fact that I had a baby and did not want to work full-time anymore, and also probably due in part to these unrealistic expectations that didn't allow my commitment of anything less than everything to be enough, I no longer work at that job or with horses in any professional capacity. Our personal horses live at a friend's house, where they are deliriously happy, having more room and grass than they had ever known before. I get to ride once or twice a week.
At first, I have to admit, this riding was boring to me. Of course, I was excited to ride my own horse again, but always riding the same horse was a little dull after being used to riding so many different horses in a week. I always enjoyed trail rides, but going out on the trail every ride got a little old. I felt like I wasn't "working on things" like I was used to doing in an arena 80% of the time.
But over the past weeks and months, I have started to catch glimpses of why I began riding in the first place. Exploring new fields and trails with my husband for an hour and a half is an absolute delight. Instead of being focused on correctly executing a complicated maneuver (and being frustrated when the horse and I can't get it "right"), I am pleased with one step in the right direction. I'm no longer worried about how much I have to accomplish with this particular horse in the next 11 days before it leaves - I know, with my own horse, there will always be tomorrow. We are on a journey together, which has no end or limit, only ever-increasing magnitudes of communication and unity.
I am slowly peeling back the onion, and last night it felt like I got to the core. Since our friends (and babysitters!) are gone on a trip, I was riding alone for the first time in awhile. Paladin and I trotted several familiar fields, and then discovered, through a hedgerow, a huge expanse of green hayfield, completely hidden from the road and any nearby houses, closed in from everything. We made our way into this little Eden and cantered its perimeter, perfectly in tune, rolling along together. And I thought, "ahh, yes, this is why I ride."
When I was little, I rode simply because I loved horses. Through high school, I enjoyed the friends I made and I also did chores at the farm, but it was still the passion for the animal that kept me coming back every day, getting up at the crack of dawn (or earlier) for shows, and spending every spare minute I could riding, thinking about, or just being with horses.
After college, I took a job as a trainer, assistant manager, riding teacher, and pretty much all-around right-hand-woman to my friend and high school trainer at her new farm. I threw myself into the work, fully committed to my job and thankful I could make money doing something that was also a passion (an aside - other than babysitting, I have never held a job that did not include horses!). I regularly worked 70+ hour weeks, was on call any time of the day or night, and did everything from patching up wounds (or helping the vet do so) to polishing up expensive show horses before they went in the ring. Every "non-horse person" I knew thought I was crazy. But to Luke and I, when you work with animals, they are your life. They don't take a break from living or having needs, so you don't take a break from caring for them.
I also trained, often working with and riding five or more horses each day. The constant changing and adjusting to each different horse and each different issue was interesting and challenging. I learned a lot and am thankful for the experience I had.
But somewhere along the way I lost the joy. The pure, unadulterated love of horses I felt as a child. The reason I started riding in the first place. Somehow, training, riding, and working at the farm became more about pleasing my boss and proving myself to be a wonderful employee and friend than simply about the horses. I strove to always fulfill and attempt to exceed her high expectations - setting myself up for failure and her for disappointment. Don't get me wrong, I still enjoyed the work. But I also had this nagging knowledge and fear that I could never be quite good enough. Instead of being the best I could be, I wanted to be perfect.
Due in part to the fact that I had a baby and did not want to work full-time anymore, and also probably due in part to these unrealistic expectations that didn't allow my commitment of anything less than everything to be enough, I no longer work at that job or with horses in any professional capacity. Our personal horses live at a friend's house, where they are deliriously happy, having more room and grass than they had ever known before. I get to ride once or twice a week.
At first, I have to admit, this riding was boring to me. Of course, I was excited to ride my own horse again, but always riding the same horse was a little dull after being used to riding so many different horses in a week. I always enjoyed trail rides, but going out on the trail every ride got a little old. I felt like I wasn't "working on things" like I was used to doing in an arena 80% of the time.
But over the past weeks and months, I have started to catch glimpses of why I began riding in the first place. Exploring new fields and trails with my husband for an hour and a half is an absolute delight. Instead of being focused on correctly executing a complicated maneuver (and being frustrated when the horse and I can't get it "right"), I am pleased with one step in the right direction. I'm no longer worried about how much I have to accomplish with this particular horse in the next 11 days before it leaves - I know, with my own horse, there will always be tomorrow. We are on a journey together, which has no end or limit, only ever-increasing magnitudes of communication and unity.
I am slowly peeling back the onion, and last night it felt like I got to the core. Since our friends (and babysitters!) are gone on a trip, I was riding alone for the first time in awhile. Paladin and I trotted several familiar fields, and then discovered, through a hedgerow, a huge expanse of green hayfield, completely hidden from the road and any nearby houses, closed in from everything. We made our way into this little Eden and cantered its perimeter, perfectly in tune, rolling along together. And I thought, "ahh, yes, this is why I ride."
I'm joining Mommy....
over at Good Food, and I just blogged my first post! Come take a look, I don't think you'll be disappointed. :)
September 16, 2010
Being One is Fun!
Having a one-year-old is a blast. Clara is at such a fun age, straddling the line between baby and big kid, and we are enjoying both aspects to the fullest. I love the sweet moments she cuddles in and nurses contentedly when she's sleepy. I also love being tackled by a smiling little monster and rolling around in the yard giggling together!
Careening around the yard holding on to my fingers is currently her favorite activity. But every once in awhile she takes a break and sits down! She likes to ride her "truck" for a while:
She also loves to hold Sadie's ball and throw it or simply give it to Sadie - she thinks it's hilarious when Sadie gently takes it out of her hand (as you can tell, Sadie is oftentimes forced to be more patient than she would like! I remind both my girls - and myself - daily that patience is a virtue.)
When Daddy gets home, he is always commandeered into the role of "walker" while I make dinner. Inevitably Clara ends up with something on her head whenever Daddy's around...
Today's break in our mid-day exercise involved another fun activity: "driving" the lawn mower. As you can see, it took a lot of concentration!
Ah, a bit of rest after a long day's work. (Note the tongue - it has been hanging out of her open mouth most of the day due to a nasty cold. Although even when she doesn't have a cold, she still thinks it's pretty funny to stick her tongue out!)
September 10, 2010
Our Daily Pilgrimage
Clara loves being outdoors. I don't know if all young children go through a phase where they would rather spend every waking moment outside, but our little girl is definitely there. She wakes up in the morning, gets, dressed, and heads to the kitchen door. The story is the same after both naps and any other time she happens to be inside. She'll grab the closest hand and head to the door, asking, "aa-AH?" on the way and signing "please" when we get there. A negative response results in heartbroken sobs and floods of tears.
Needless to say, we've been spending a lot of time outdoors. We have lots of favorite activities to choose from, but not a single day has gone by in the past week without this one special trip, often taken multiple times a day. Holding on to the fingers of whoever happens to be with her at the moment, Clara will walk purposefully past the hammock, the camp chairs, and the lawn mower (all favorite places to sit and watch the cars go by), shaking her head in a vehement "no" if stopping is suggested. She heads up the slight incline in the backyard, under the crab apple and maple trees, to the back garden. The last of my green beans are hanging on, the butternut squash are about ready to harvest and, most important on Clara's list, the fall raspberries are ripe and plentiful. We had a decent harvest from last year's canes in the summer, but this year's canes are much more bountiful and a good number of berries ripen every day. Good thing, too!
Once we arrive at the garden, Clara plops down on the ground and starts "pleasing" frantically, interspersed with lots of pointing and exclamations of "ah, AH! Om. Ah. Om." It is my job to pick berries and hand them to her to be gobbled up as fast as I pick. If I'm not going fast enough she'll often crawl to the nearest cane and try to reach some for herself.
I'm so thankful my daughter is learning the delights of fresh fruit, straight from the source. Nothing makes me happier than being able to indulge her voracious appetite for raspberries from my own backyard. (To be honest, she loves bananas too, which will never be local or fresh in New England. But hey, it's all a work in progress.) So as long as the raspberries keep coming, you can bet we'll be making our daily pilgrimage to our own little Mecca of deliciousness.
Needless to say, we've been spending a lot of time outdoors. We have lots of favorite activities to choose from, but not a single day has gone by in the past week without this one special trip, often taken multiple times a day. Holding on to the fingers of whoever happens to be with her at the moment, Clara will walk purposefully past the hammock, the camp chairs, and the lawn mower (all favorite places to sit and watch the cars go by), shaking her head in a vehement "no" if stopping is suggested. She heads up the slight incline in the backyard, under the crab apple and maple trees, to the back garden. The last of my green beans are hanging on, the butternut squash are about ready to harvest and, most important on Clara's list, the fall raspberries are ripe and plentiful. We had a decent harvest from last year's canes in the summer, but this year's canes are much more bountiful and a good number of berries ripen every day. Good thing, too!
Once we arrive at the garden, Clara plops down on the ground and starts "pleasing" frantically, interspersed with lots of pointing and exclamations of "ah, AH! Om. Ah. Om." It is my job to pick berries and hand them to her to be gobbled up as fast as I pick. If I'm not going fast enough she'll often crawl to the nearest cane and try to reach some for herself.
I'm so thankful my daughter is learning the delights of fresh fruit, straight from the source. Nothing makes me happier than being able to indulge her voracious appetite for raspberries from my own backyard. (To be honest, she loves bananas too, which will never be local or fresh in New England. But hey, it's all a work in progress.) So as long as the raspberries keep coming, you can bet we'll be making our daily pilgrimage to our own little Mecca of deliciousness.
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