A letter.

When she was checking out my updated website, one of my clients came upon this photo I took while riding her mare up in the hills above the barn. It inspired her to write me this letter, which she so graciously offered to share with the world. It is one of the most meaningful letters I have received, and I think her experiences will resonate with others.

This picture means so much to me. To some it will just look like a beautiful photo looking over the barn from the rider’s view, but to me it is like seeing a picture of my mare standing on an Olympic pedestal about to get her medal. You and I remember our first weeks with her, and our very real worry that she would not be able to be trained. Her level of fear was on a level above a mustang who had lived wild , her first two weeks she stood wary and untrusting, shaking like a leaf in the corner of a paddock deathly afraid of a rope gripped and paralyzed with fear. The journey to arrive at this picture has been such a welcome distraction from the challenges in my life this last year and a half. I feel like for once it was not something in my control at all, I had to let go of my fears too, and trust to go on a journey without a map and with a copilot, you Alex. My mom’s terminal illness rocked me to the core, and made me realize that I needed to stop waiting for “the perfect time, the perfect horse” to have a relationship with horses again. I had a wonderful teen gelding with ringbone who was healing but he was not a trail horse, he was my reminder that having a horse in my life filled a missing piece that had been absent for 18 years since I had an accident where I nearly died, and then life was busy going to school, working in pediatrics, having babies………and did I mention, ignoring the fact that I had almost died in an accident. Denial is a very strong coping mechanism in my life, not healthy but survival ready. My accident and serious head injury while riding when I was 18 was a lurking memory of the real risks involved in this decision to get back in to riding seriously, and I knew that I wanted to be safe, and that I also wanted a horse who needed a home. In the end this horse picked me, somehow I found myself wandering through a herd of 60 head of 4-6 yr olds who had not been handled. Did I mention that denial was a strong presence in my life? But they needed jobs. I had driven by them on my way to bring my daughter McCall to lessons at Alex’s barn and thought they were beautiful and wondered what their story was. Then the herd reduction sale happened and I thought I would just go take a “look”, I of course was drawn to the beautiful chocolate geldings with flowing creamy manes and tails. Alex correctly advised me that she could help me find a better fit for my journey back into horsemanship than an horse who had not been handled. Did I mention that stubborn and denial are strong characteristics in my life? Oh yeah and a challenge? I ignored Alex’s, my good friends, my mother’s and my husband’s, advice and brought one of my very best friends who also happens to be a veterinarian and as horse crazy as I am to look. The horse that kept following me around (now I know she was looking for treats and the pushiest girl in the bunch , was a smoky black mare, I was adamant I wasn’t getting a mare. I went back four times, every time she found me every time until the last visit I thought about other horses. Her journey to Alex’s place was not far in distance but has been a solar system in her awareness of a world with human interaction and learning about letting go of fear, and over all developing trust and partnership and respect for other horses and humans. We are still on a journey, she is almost always light, and is growing in her willingness to be soft. It has been a true test of commitment and patience. She has a job now, and she still looks up at the hills above the pasture with a wild eye most days. In the end I know now why she picked me, I needed her to teach me, I would not have learned near as much with any other horse. That is why this picture of her with her ears pricked forward willing to go for a ride in the hills, calm, soft, brought a tear to my eye. Thank you Alex, for healing my horse and my heart.