The radio silence around here is not because things are boring and uninteresting, or because I have things I can't blog about (although I do have some wonderful secrets these days!), or because I'm not riding. Just the opposite, actually.
I've been tending my own acre. I stole this idea from a post I read on Anne Lamott's facebook page a couple of weeks ago. (Anyone else follow her? She's awesome. I found her in a TED talk a few years ago and just adore her.) Somehow, after 35 years of life, I looked around and realized that I was working really hard on helping other people with their acres. I can look back on childhood and adolescence and early adulthood and find a lot of stops along the way that lead to this. I will probably always do this to some extent. I am a fixer, to a fault.
But lately I have been doing things that make me happy more often. I've been spending quiet evenings at home in my lovely cottage with my adorable cat, watching whatever I want to watch, reading whatever I want to read, listening to the music I like, eating whatever I feel like cooking (or not cooking!). Sitting in the hammock listening to the cows. At first it felt selfish, but now it feels good.
I've had lovely weekends lately. I farm-sat for a friend a couple of weeks ago and it felt like a mini-vacation. Her place is beautiful, and all her animals are just so sweet and easy to be with.
|Tucker and Fuzzy|
|DQ invades H/J barn|
I have been cuddling every dog I can get my hands on. I swear lately they all seem to just know I need love.
|Sammy & Linus|
|Thea & Milo|
I have been spending quality time with some of my favorite people, doing fun things, and not letting myself feel too guilty if that means Tucker gets an extra day off.
This man has been sick, which is terrifying, because I cannot yet fathom the world without him in it.
But like the Superhero I've always believed him to be, he is recovering and strong and in good spirits, and amazing his doctors. I sat in the hospital waiting for him to go into surgery, and my grandmother nudged me to wheel her chair closer to his bedside. So I did, and they held hands. "There, that's what he wanted," she said. And I was in that moment so thankful to have this example of true love in my life.
I had a great ride this week. It was drizzly and humid and gross out, but I dragged myself to the barn anyway and climbed on. Tucker started off rooting the reins out of my hands and I had this moment of panic because I had no idea what the "right" way to fix it was. I decided to just keep going on with my ride and talk to Amy about it in my upcoming lesson. And the more I worked him, concentrating on getting him straight and forward and trying to feel where that errant right hind leg was at all times, the rooting went away.
We ended on true, solid, correct contact. Moving off my leg, between my hands, taking the bit, in balance. And I realized the problem just went away on its own and there was no need to panic in the first place about what the "right" way to fix it was. And then I realized there were much larger lessons there to be learned, and I once again thanked the heavens that I have this horse in my life to teach me these things.
I'm tending my acre. And it's beautiful.