Extreme Cowgirl my butt. Ouch.
Well, today I found out something that I am relieved to know. I still know how to fall off.
Not with grace or flair, though unfortunately there was no video footage to prove what a fool I must have looked like. But at least God gave me that bionic moment when time slows down. As I sat astride my mount, both calm and relaxed I had no idea what was about to happen, and appearantly, neither did she.
I must have broken an agreement that we made- I just didn’t know it. You see, she’d given me permission over the last couple of weeks to do the things I asked of her. Not all at once. But slowly, we worked together and filled in a few holes… a few scary monsters that she thought were under the bed simply weren’t there.
Now that isn’t a phrase or way of looking at things that I came up with- a much better horsewoman than I used those words and something about it really stuck for me. The thing about helping someone to know (to REALLY know, not just take your word for it) that there is no monster is to get down on the floor with them and peek.
I had no idea I’d be getting down on the floor so swiftly or with such force. lol
Truth be told, I used to be a “ride it out” kind of gal. I still usually am, but there are a few things that I’d gladly bale instead of do- one is to go full speed on a frantic horse toward a corner of pipe panels. I just wasn’t sure she could think her way out of it without me crashing into the rails so I quickly went over my tried-and-true steps to a rapid dismount… feet out of stirrups, pick a side, tuck and roll baby!
Sand in every part of my attire and my eyes… I’m sure I’ll be finding more in the morning.
The mare calmed right down, turned around and looked at me like “why aren’t you running too?!” and when she saw me laughing she just sighed and started towards me. Silly mare. Sillly me.
Deep sand (and the angels that were likely huffing and puffing trying to get my big girl self to the ground softly) kept me from hurting my body and, well, I have no pride to hurt so that’s good. I already thought I was a mediocre horsewoman, so no new news on that front ;~)
We walked over to the mounting block and I just sat and petted her. What had I missed? I MUST have missed the part where she said, I don’t give you permission for THIS. I must have missed a monster somewhere along the way. I thought she was telling me she was ready for a little more- but clearly I was wrong. I guess today she taught me that being comfortable with what you’re doing is entirely different than being ready for something more.
So as I go over and over in my mind, wondering how I could have done a better job of helping her today and ways that I can do a better job of it tomorrow I come up with a few things.
First, what she can do: She already knew how to do a ton of ground work. She can stand calmly without being tied to be groomed and tacked up. She can stand in the arena where I park her and wait for me to come back. She can follow me around without the lead rope if I click to her (that’s our signal for move your feet :~) She can walk with me when I stand behind her shoulder and touch her as we walk (which was pretty big for her). She can slowly and deliberately park herself at the mounting block (also a biggie). She can stand quietly and calmly for me to get into the saddle (HUGE). She can remain calm for me to move around, bend, shuffle my legs, pet her. (This is probably an area that I think she’s ok, but maybe she’s really whispering that she’s not).
She’s a good girl and has a lot of try.
What she CAN’T do right now: Even THINK about moving her feet while I’m up on her back.
Well, there’s huge list of things that she can do. Only one on the can’t list. That’s one heck of a mare. The tricky part is that the one thing she can’t do is a pretty key part of riding, as I so ”Tim-the-toolman-esque” illustrated today. No cowgirl fanny in the saddle = not actually riding at all.
Sigh. She told me “no, this is not ok” as soon as I thought about moving and said outloud “do you want to think about walking?” I had about 3 seconds that I could have slipped off right then, but I didn’t think there would be much more than a scoot and I’d just “help” her through it. Um, horse whisperer fail. So I apologized to her. I meant her no wrong doing so hopefully she won’t hold it against me.
I wonder how many times God has walked with me through something, slowly showing me there really isn’t a monster under the bed. Sure, for a lot of us and for this mare too- there once was really something under the bed that scared us in the first place. Usually rightly so. But the thing with monsters is that whatever it is, it doesn’t hide under EVERY bed for the rest of our lives.
We have to be willing to take that peek, with an open mind. Snort at it, take a friend if we need to, shine the light in the corners just to be sure. We have to get to the place that we are willing to accept what the reality of living in a home with no monsters would look like. Maybe the monster has become an old friend- one that scares us, but is familiar all the same. Maybe the old monster that is no longer there just turns into a new monster when some weird lady falls off of your back. Sorry, I guess that analogy didn’t fully form :~)
But sometimes things that we’re going through in the present moment aren’t really as upsetting as they seem. Sometimes we have a reaction that is a 13 on a scale of 1-10 and it really only warrants a 3. But just the thought of that old monster is enough to send us over the edge.
So, for this mare, I need to take a few steps back, ask more questions and listen more closely. I need to help her hunt down the monster that she is certain lives just above her back and show her that it’s not a monster at all… probably just the shadows and the wind. :~)
Probably going to need to enlist the help of a pro for this.
Then, I need to help her understand that not every person will fly off at high speed. Dang it. Extreme Cowgirl competition, eh? I stand by my original goal of staying in the saddle for the entire ride!