My Horse-Of-My-Own Journey

This isn't a blog post about Pepper or Bramblewood per se or anything anyone is going to want to read. But some have asked me about the horse I keep posting on Facebook and some have had to listen to me go on and on about the ATFO and some have helped me on my journey by purchasing things from me so I thought I'd just write a blog post about the journey to hopeful horse ownership.

I'll try to keep this short. ;)

Back in the spring, I began working with Kim to consider what it would take to leap into horse ownership. Kim's really good at that, by the way. I knew that I wanted a horse of my own but I didn't want to look back in hindsight and think, man, I really didn't think that through or geez, I rushed that and now look at me. I've got experience with that kind of thing, after all. **cough cough self-published teacher book no one can ever see** I even sent my mom a picture of a horse in a rescue in WV and said, see this would be my dream horse (palomino QH mare).

Picture I sent to my mom. Her name was Aurora :)

So I resolved to begin raising the money and once I had 5K I would start casually looking. Well, you know me, that's easier said than done. Once I get an idea in my head, I want to carry it out like NOW. But I was patient, more or less. Kristin had to probably look at way more horse ads than she wanted as I "just browsed" EquineNow or 15 some odd groups on Facebook. 

Then a rescue that I followed, Heart of Phoenix in WV, (I do love rescue animals after all) popped back up in my Facebook feed. They were advertising for trainers for their 2023 Appalachian  Trainer Face-Off. Intrigued, I began to investigate. 

In a nutshell, the ATFO is operated by Heart of Phoenix. It's a 100 day competition with 30-40 rescue horses and at the end of the 100 days, the horses and their trainers compete in a 3 day competition to show what their horse has learned and, at the end of the competition, the horses are auctioned off to pre-approved adopters. These horses have all types of backgrounds - unstarted young horses, horses that just haven't been ridden in a while, feral horses, etc. The trainers come from all types of backgrounds and experiences. But one thing that I really liked was that the rescue was very up front with the fact that they didn't want trainers to push horses to be perfect in 100 days - rather just to take them as far as they could in 100 days. (They've had a few trainers just in the past few days say that their horses were not 100 day horses so they're going to keep them for a full year of training and take on another for the competition. Which is awesome.) So you know me, I was intrigued. I also liked that while you had to apply and be approved to be able to bid, being approved did not REQUIRE you to bid or adopt. It just gave you the opportunity. And there were a couple of horses that I really liked - including Aurora, the horse I'd sent a picture of to my mom.

Before I plunged ahead with the application, I had another consult with Kim to make sure I wasn't being dumb. Then I put in my application! 

Fast forward over a month and I finally got approved. I'm quite grateful to everyone who listened to me moan and groan "they're not going to approve me, gosh how long does it take to talk to a farrier, I'll never get approved" and kept reminding me to be patient. I followed my top horses on social media (another great aspect of the ATFO is that the trainers post all about their training journey on social media so you can keep up).

And I finally got approved! What's more, the level I was approved for was going to match the level of the #1 horse that I wanted - Aurora. 

Aurora on her first day at Courtney's farm. How cute is she! 

So I decided to stop looking at other horses, stop browsing Craigslist, EquineNow, 30 Facebook groups, and save for the ATFO. I decided that I'd focus on the ATFO and having the funds I needed by then. And, if I wasn't the high bidder or there wasn't a horse that was ultimately a good fit for me, then that's fine, God would just be shutting that door and I'd patiently keep looking. And I found such a peace in that. Just praying for wisdom and guidance about the ATFO in general and that God would show me if it was His will for me or not gave me such a peace. I wasn't stressing over inquiring about this horse or that horse. I had a goal and I had a plan.

There were a few other horses I liked in the ATFO but one was too short, one was not a good fit (love that HOP has given me a "personal" adoptions counselor who will be honest with me about whether or not a HOP horse is a good fit), and one was not really physically able to do what I wanted to do.

That left Aurora. And guys, let me tell you about Aurora. (I know this has gotten really long so if you've stuck with me this long, God bless you). She's a 15 year old palomino Quarter Horse. A palomino QH is like my dream horse, btw. She's 15 hands. Perfect. She has beautiful white socks and a beautiful white blaze. The best part is her trainer, Courtney, is like the sweetest lady on the planet and has put up with alllllll my many questions - and there have been many. Aurora ticks all my "unicorn" boxes. She walk/trot/canters, she doesn't act "mareish," she loves people, she's good on trails and in the arena, she's absolutely amazing. I'm going to meet her on July 22 and I cannot wait.

She's amazing.

So I began to earnestly save money for Aurora (while still praying about God's plan and to not get on my own plan). I figured, I'd raise what I could, and then if it was enough, great. If it wasn't, well, then it wasn't God's plan. I'd be upset, for sure, and mega disappointed but I'd pick myself up and move on towards the greatness God would have for me in the future.

I worked Rover jobs, I did more dog sitting than I usually do, I fed cats, fed dogs, did 4 weeks of summer school, covered all the lessons I could in the summer for instructors out of town, sold any and everything I had in my house that I no longer used/wanted (still should have sold that mixer for more than $20). I'm grateful to everyone who supported me by buying something I was selling, giving me opportunities with pet care, horseback riding lessons, etc. You've really helped and supported me. I feel like Aurora is a real tangible possibility because of the money you've helped me raise. 

I've got a bunch of spreadsheets and figures on estimated savings that I should have by August 19. I'm constantly reworking my figures (because I'm a nerd) and rewatching her videos. I've got my #hopteamaurora tshirt and tank top. I'm reminding myself not to buy stuff for a horse you.don't.yet.have. I sponsored her stall at the ATFO because I want people to see my name on her stall and have seen all my comments about how much I want her and just not even bid because they don't want to have to compete against me. I'm figuring out my bidding strategy. I'm zealous, you might say.

#hopteamAurora

I prefer to think of it as doing the natural while God provides the super. Supernatural. Maybe that made sense. Instead of just sitting around expecting that God will just drop this amazing horse into my lap, I'm doing my part to make it happen. And if it doesn't, well, it won't be because I didn't try. 

So keep your fingers crossed (and buy some dog stuff LOL) and maybe I'll be bringing home a horse in a month! 

Also - I really did try to keep this short. ;) 

We Don't Deserve Horses

 

Horses are awesome.

We don't deserve horses. There's a lot we don't deserve, I guess, in this world but two things this weekend made me realize just how much we don't deserve them and just how amazing they truly are. So settle in and listen to the stories of two horses who proved this weekend what I already knew - they are angels.

Choo and his student

Okay, so meet Choo. He's a big ole' guy with a heart of gold who can give pony rides to campers or teach cantering to an advanced student. His hooves are the size of dinner plates and are only matched by his heart. He's pictured here with one of my students who fell in love with him upon first meeting him. But who can blame her?

Anyway, to get to the story of Choo's amazingness. Saturday night, I was teaching a lesson to a pair of siblings - 5 and 3 years old. It was their second lesson. Last week, they rode Lady (our sweet little black pony) and so I got Lady out for them again. I was the only teacher giving a lesson at that hour so it was just us in the freezing wind. Lady is a great pony but she's a little older and sore in her hips sometimes and the wind probably wasn't helping so she kicked a time or two during the grooming session, just to show her discomfort so we made sure to groom her lightly. We tacked her up and took her to the arena.

The three year old got up and we began our laps around the arena. Lady walked along nicely but she had a few moments where she got irritable and kicked out her back leg. I asked an instructor who was leaving what she thought and she said it was probably the cold and that Lady would be fine. But a few more kicks and I knew the wind and cold was bothering Lady.

So I took her to the middle of the arena and got the little girl off. I asked Mom and the two kids to stay in the middle of the arena and that I was going to do a horse change. Mom said sure and so I dashed off to swap Lady out. It was cold and it was getting dark but the little boy still needed his time on the horse.

I snapped Lady's reins off, undid her girth, pulled off her saddle, and tossed it all on the ground behind me (knowing it wouldn't be in the way because I was the only one still teaching). I took her back to her stall and ran to the tack room to grab a bigger girth for Choo (since he's about 3x her size). I dashed to Choo's stall and grabbed his halter.

As I opened the stall door to get Choo, I asked him, "Choo, I know you're done and I know it's cold and you're tired but can you please help me out and give the rest of this lesson because Lady just can't do it and so please help me out, Choo." I led him out and quickly tacked him up (shedding my gloves and coat as I raced back to the tack room for a bigger girth - the cold no longer registering). 

I took Choo back to the arena and got the little boy up in the saddle (he loved being so tall) and began the ride. And, as I knew he would be, Choo was a rock star. There wasn't much time left so I had the five year old "work on" looking where he wanted the horse to go. He'd look left, I'd lead Choo left (because the horse goes where you look), he'd look right and I'd lead Choo right. Choo zig-zagged his way all across that ring in the freezing cold, with the boy's laughter echoing in the night. He stepped up and took care of that little boy, allowed him to finish his lesson on a good note, and helped me have a successful lesson. Choo is an amazing horse and a true lesson horse and I love him and we don't deserve him but he is there for us each.and.every.lesson. 

That's Choo's story. Here's Pepper's.

Me and my very best girl.

Today, I gave a lesson at 1 and then I was done. I talked with another instructor some and that was really fun and then I tacked Pepper up and we headed to the ring. I wanted to get in some riding time because A) I love riding and B) it wasn't freezing cold and windy like it was yesterday. There were three students having lessons so Pepper and I just wandered around the ring. We walked, we did some lateral work, and we just enjoyed being in the sun.

Then I went to dismount and, somehow, I didn't do it right. My left foot got caught in the stirrup and twisted as I dismounted (which I'm not graceful at anyway but this hadn't happened before). So I landed on the ground with my right foot, left foot stuck in the stirrup and bent to the left, saddle slipping down Pepper's side. Pain shot through my left knee, shin, and foot. My foot was stuck. Pepper jumped a bit when the saddle started sliding and then she.stood.still. 

Now, let me tell you, that one of my biggest horseback riding fears (especially since I started riding Western) has been that Pepper will spook, I will fall off, my foot will get stuck in the stirrup, which will cause Pepper to panic even more and she will run off and I will be dragged because my foot is stuck in the stirrup. No lie, this morning I was looking at Western safety stirrups online because of that very fear (and I will now be buying some). Because Pepper in the old days? Pepper when I first met her? Pepper even six months ago? That Pepper, when she felt the saddle slipping and awkward weight in her saddle, she would have flipped the heck out. She would have started freaking, jumping sideways, trying to get away. I mean, I can't say that is 100% what would have happened but I'm pretty sure I'm right.

But not today. Today, when I was off balance and struggling and trying not to panic but to stay calm, Pepper was.my.rock. Pepper startled but then, I swear, she realized I was in trouble, and she did not move. She didn't move as I tried to wiggle my foot out. She didn't move when I asked Emma (my other savior today) to come hold her so I could get free. She didn't move as I stood on my right tiptoes and managed to free my foot. She didn't move as I leaned against her side, waiting for my foot to stop throbbing so I could walk.

She didn't move.

Pepper and I have a bond and it gets stronger all the time. Today was proof of that bond of the trust we've built up between us. I don't deserve the amazing creature that is Pepper but I truly believe that today would have been much worse if I didn't have that bond with her. Today, one of my biggest fears came true (praise God it was just when I was dismounting and not when we were moving because the outcome may not have been the same) and my horse got me through it. 

This weekend, I am grateful for all the horses in my life, for all my Bramblewood equines, but most especially this weekend, I'm grateful for Choo and for Pepper. We don't deserve them but they show up for us every single day.

And now I'm off to buy Western safety stirrups. ;) 

You Can Either Kill My Self-Esteem or You Can Help Me Thrive

Okay, so since I know you are all avid readers of my blog (come on, let me have this win), you know that I absolutely love the stable where I ride. I've been given permission by the owner to use the name of the barn in my blog moving forward so here it is: Bramblewood. Isn't that just a magnificent name? Just makes you think of all things horsey and woodsy and naturey. Like dryads and nymphs. 

I love Bramblewood and I love everything about it. The horses, the instructors, the other riders, the barn kittens - I could go on and on (and I usually do). But the number 1 thing I love about Bramblewood? 

They accept me for who.I.am. They don't judge me for being heavier than I should be or not having the cutest clothes or not always knowing what to say. The barn owner actually pushes me to be who I am and encourages me to ask assertive questions and say what I'm really feeling (still working on that of course). But the focus of this today is the acceptance part. 

When I first reached out to Bramblewood a year and a half ago about lessons, they didn't ask me my age or my height or my weight. They knew I was an adult but that was about it. And of course I first had to attend a Welcome Workshop (amazing) before I got into the program but then I hit the ground running. No one made a comment about the fact that I'm a little heavy (which I am always working on and forgetting to work on and committing to working on and slacking off). No, they just matched me up with a horse and we went from there. 

This weekend, I heard about another barn in passing and I decided to check out their website just to see. Boy, they fancy. They have like 40 stalls and three stories in their barn (you ever heard of a horse on a second story? I haven't. Maybe I'm uncultured). Trails and indoor arenas and dressage arenas and yada yada yada. Yep. They fancy.

So I checked out their lesson page. They had lots of information about their riding program but one thing on their page was key to me and stood out to me - no riders over ____ pounds. That was it. If you were over this amount of weight, there was no room for you at this barn. I'm about 15 pounds over that limit (you can use your imagination to figure out the limit) and, had I been searching for a barn to ride at and seen that, my self-esteem would.have.been.crushed. That would have been akin to them telling me "you are too fat to be one of us. You would break our horses." Man. Can you imagine? Missing out on the wonderful connections and lessons horses can teach us because I like cake and don't like working out? 

Now, I'm not saying that barn owners and instructors shouldn't be careful when pairing a heavier set rider with a horse. There's a cute, fun little dapple gray pony guy at my barn that I'm not ever going to ride because I'm too big for him. I'll never ride Lady or Magic. 

But I (and those like me) shouldn't be turned away completely because I'm overweight. That just reinforces everything  that I tell myself about myself. If I'd read that when I was looking for a horse barn, that would have stopped me right there. Why was I even considering going back to horseback riding? I'm too fat, I'll hurt the horse, no one will like me, they say on their website that they don't want people like me. And that would have started me into a downward spiral and I'd never have found the joy that I have now.

Luckily, I found Bramblewood. A place where even if you weren't built for riding, you could still find a home. A place where groundwork and connection work - moments where you don't even get on the horse - provide just as much a home as the lessons from the back of the horse. The staff at Bramblewood and the instructors at Bramblewood don't blink an eye when they see me. I still remember a lesson when I was just a couple months into riding when I was on Julian and I went to mount him and he shifted because his back or his leg was hurting (I can't remember which) and the owner of the barn had me get off immediately and switch to Moose. And I think she could tell that I was self-conscious and worried that I'd hurt Julian because I was too large and so she went out of her way to make it clear that he wasn't at his best and it wasn't me (whether that was true or not). So I'm grateful.

I did some more research and found another local barn that isn't accepting adult riders right now because of consideration of the horses' size and abilities. While that isn't as painful to my self-esteem as being told I'm over a limit, it still would have depressed me if I'd found that first.

So, to make a long story short, there are a zillion reasons why I love Bramblewood. But first and foremost is that looks and size and number of pimples don't matter. Even if you aren't "built" for riding and most pairs of breeches don't fit right, there' still a place for you at Bramblewood. You can be a part of the change in the horse world that is focusing more on connection and just being with the horses. Just because you don't fit the mold for the ideal rider, you can still belong at Bramblewood. 

I'm on my way to being an instructor at Bramblewood and I'm more excited about that than I can remember being about anything in the past. I'm hopeful to use my stories and my experiences to help all my students (whether they be overweight adults like me or trim little 11 year olds) be their best selves. Because it takes a village. Horses, barn kittens, fellow riders, instructors, barn owners ... it takes everyone.

And I'm so grateful that Bramblewood is my village.

Life Isn't Always Rainbows

*disclaimer - I'm not even sure this makes sense. Just my thoughts from tonight. Read at your own risk.*

Sometimes, life is a big ole' messy downpour. Puddles, rain down your shirt, soaked sock because you didn't realize there was a hole in your boot. Chilly wind in your face. Cold rain just for good measure. Sometimes, even going to your happy place isn't really enough.

But you still gotta appreciate the small, good moments, even if you have to look extra super hard for it.

Today was a rough day. It was go-go-go at work from my arrival at 7:45 until my departure at 4:15 (15 minutes later than I wanted to leave). I did IDs and Chromebooks by myself this morning, solved tech problems, handed out sub computers, sent emails, talked Beta Convention roommates - all before 8:45. From there it was a full on busy day of teaching a mystery lesson (my favorite lesson), solving more tech problems (and trying to get kids to behave for my mom who was their sub), enjoying lunch for 5 minutes (which was interrupted twice for ID issues), receipting my ID money and making copies for one class while forgetting to make more for the other, watching ISS so their teacher could go on lunch, running to the bookkeeper's office to figure out how my money was off (I can't count, that's how), racing to my last two classes of the day (and sending a kid to get my Crocs from my office because I was done with the cute heels), dashing out to car duty, comforting a kid who was crying because she missed her bus and helping her get in touch with someone who could come pick her up, and finally leaving 15 minutes later than I wanted (and then having to stop by my work bestie's house to drop off her computer). While also forgetting to make copies for tomorrow and translate two of my mystery lesson characters into Spanish. Oh well. Guess I'll get there early tomorrow.

Anyway, to make a long story short (yeah right), by the time I got home and changed into my barn clothes, I was later leaving the house than I wanted and thus later getting to the barn. Which isn't really a bad thing because I didn't have a lesson or anything, I was just using one of my half lease rides so the timing didn't really matter - I just like to be there when I say I'm going to be there, which in this case was 5. Because that's how my brain works.

So suffice it to say that by the time I got to the barn, I wasn't in the best mood. I got to learn some not-so-glamorous horsey stuff (I love that the barn owner and other instructors let me listen in and watch while they do the basic horsey stuff because I'm a nerd and while I am now immensely glad I have a mare, I still like learning things) and then I went and got Pepper. 

I brushed her some.

I gave her a mint. 

I rested my head on her neck and breathed. 

And then I took her up to the round pen to do some connection work. I've been watching Warwick Schiller videos and trying to "Lead with Energy." 

But my heart and my head just weren't in it. It was cold (my thermal gloves need to arrive) and Pepper was feeding off my vibes that today just wasn't a good day. I let her mosey around the round pen and did some matching steps but I didn't really feel like trying any of the Warwick stuff I've learned. Pepper seemed a little extra tense (it was darker than when we usually go up to the round pen and there were some strange noises) but I knew I didn't have the right headspace and patience for Masterson stuff either. 

One of the amazing things that I love about horses is how in tune they are with our emotions and feelings. I got the awesome opportunity to help with a Girls Scout group on Sunday (best.day.ever) and it was so fun explaining to them how horses mirror our energy and respond to our moods. So as I watched Pepper, I knew that she was responding to my mood but I also knew that I was not any use to her in my current state and that I just wasn't going to get out of my funk right then.

So, feeling a little defeated, I put her lead rope back on and we left the round pen. 

Sounds like no big deal, right? We left the round pen.

But it is a big deal. Because Pepper does not like leaving the round pen. She thinks it is going to eat her. The last few times we've been in there, Pepper has flipped out when leaving, even rearing a little on the lead rope. Chris helped me with some tips and suggestions the last time and I made sure to use them tonight - waiting at the open gate for a few minutes before walking through to show her that it was fine - and she left the round pen with no issues. 

And that was that. After that, I cleaned out her hooves, put her away and gave her the rest of her mints. It was dark and cold and so I headed home. 

There'd been no magical ah-ha moment. I hadn't felt super connected with Pepper like I have other times. I didn't feel any amazing surges of joy. My mom asked how it was as we talked on the way home and I said, "Fine." I talked more about my anxiety and issues and how I wish I was more assertive than about my time at the barn and that's not how I usually am.

But now as I'm sitting here at my computer spilling out my guts and trying to be transparent with the 4 people that read this, I am realizing that even when things are hard and they're tough and you're not at your best mentally or emotionally, you can still take comfort in the little things. Because without the little things, the big things don't matter either.

Not every day is going to be a home run. Not every work day is going to be amazing, not every moment spent at the barn is going to be transcendent (though any time at the barn is still a blessing).

So when the going gets tough and the headspace gets out of whack, you gotta remember the small things and remember that tomorrow is a brand new day, a fresh start, a chance for a new opportunity.

Today? 

Today, Pepper left the round pen with all 4 hooves on the ground.

And I'll take it.

Pepper Likes Me For Me

My beautiful "dragon pony."

Yesterday morning was not a great morning for me. Sometimes, I get these moments when I get in my head and find myself stuck in a pattern of negative thoughts with no way out - at least none that I can see. It happens less these days, for which I am definitely grateful, but when it hits, it's hard to talk myself out of the spiral and into a better headspace.

Yesterday was one of those times. 

I was going to go to an equine ministry open house type thing in Wellford and I was really excited about it - until I started getting ready. That's when the negative thoughts began to creep in.

"You won't know anyone and so it's going to be really awkward because you won't have anyone to talk to." 

"Man, you've gained back all the weight you lost over the summer and everyone will notice that you're not some trim, slim, athletic girl."

"People will notice you don't have the cutest hairstyle - are you really going to wear your hair like that?"

"Haha, even putting on makeup won't help you look better." 

"You're going to make everyone at your current barn mad at you because you're thinking of volunteering somewhere else."

"Why even leave the house?" 

The thoughts just kept spiraling. I FaceTimed my mom and asked her about my hair. I messaged my best friend for some wisdom (which she dispensed because she is amazing). It also didn't help that I've been on Match.com lately and I decided to look and see who had "viewed my profile" and a number of them were guys I'd messaged because I thought we'd be perfect together ... yet they'd viewed my profile and moved on without a word - so clearly something about me was not appealing.

By the time I left my house, I wasn't even excited to go to the ranch. I always get anxious about going new places because my brain is always like "where do I park, how will I know where to go, what if I go to the wrong place, what if I got the date wrong?" but add all the other thoughts on top of that and, boy oh boy, I was definitely struggling. 

So I talked to my mom on the way and just decided to do my best to have a good time. And, since the experience at the ranch isn't the focus of this blog post (I know, I know, you're wondering if there even is a focus), I'll just say that it was amazing, I felt the spirit of the Lord moving in me, and I can't wait to spend some time there. I was quite glad that I went. 

However, the real "ah-ha" moment came when I went to my lesson at my barn (the barn where I was worried it'd be like I was 'cheating' on my friends there if I spent any time at the equine ministry even though the rational part of me knows that they wouldn't disown me for it *fingers crossed*). I wasn't really feeling like riding. It was a dreary day and I just wanted to spend time with Pepper.

So I did. And while I worked with her, while we worked on standing still and being present, on leading with energy, and some small practical things like turning on the haunches/forehand, my worries from that morning seemed so inconsequential. Pepper didn't care what I looked like. She didn't care if I was a little heavier (although I'm sure she'd like it if I lost some weight and had a stronger core haha) or if I was dealing with some acne issues. She likes me for me. 

As I connected with her, something awesome happened (and if this is a normal thing that horses do, don't tell me, I want to live in my bubble). I would stand next to her head, holding the lead rope, and we'd both be facing the same direction. Then, without twitching the lead rope, applying any pressure, or anything, I'd pivot 90 degrees. And, without hesitation, Pepper would turn to once again stand beside me. 

She gets me. She has no expectations of me. She grounds me. She reminds me that being at peace with yourself and with those around you are what's important. To me, Pepper is a reflection of God's love for me. Pepper was created by God, as all horses were, and is a part of one of the most intelligent species there is. Pepper reminds me that she's happy with the way I am and that so is God (something I often forget). 

Being with Pepper, working with her, learning to watch her cues and see when she speaks to me, helps so much with my anxious brain. Outward appearances are great and all, but my self-esteem should not be based on what I think I should look like. Rather, I should take a page from Pepper's book and just be content to be with those who care about me. Who value and love me for me.

Because what Pepper and I have? That connection? It's only growing stronger, deeper, more meaningful. And if she's happy with me (and this is a horse who has an "I bite" sign on her stall) then I sure as heck can be happy with me, too.

Cute pic of Frigg and Lady!

Riding Isn't Everything, Did Ya Know?

The Grown Up Saddle Club!

Back when I first started at my current stable, I thought riding was everything. I wanted to perfect the trot, rock the canter, and just spend my lesson hours in the saddle. When I first started riding Pepper and had to take things slowly (most lessons spent just practicing walk and stop), I wasn't a fan. And while barn lessons were interesting, there were definitely days when I wasn't exactly thrilled about missing riding due to rain.

Now, while I do enjoy riding and snatching snippets of trot when Pepper puts her mind to it, I have just as much (if not more) "fun" on the ground. If you've read my other blog posts, you know that I'm learning about groundwork and connection and really enjoying it. But today was another step towards true horsemanship and it was amazing - not just because of the horse aspect either but also because of the community aspect.

See, it was raining today. Like cats and dogs raining. I was scheduled to do a round pen session with Pepper before my actual lesson because I was curious to see what (if any) effect that would have on our lesson. But when I got to the barn and it was monsooning, I got to do groundwork in the barn aisles with Pepper instead. Did you know you can get a horse to turn on the forehand from the ground? I didn't until today and I'm not gonna lie - I got giddy when Pepper turned on her forehand and kept her front hooves in the same spot! How cool! 

The real incredible, wonderful moment today, though, came from my lesson hour. Three other women have their lesson at the same time as mine and so we had a barn lesson today. We sat and we talked.

That's it. 

Just talked. 

No horses in the lesson. Just some barn kittens. 

No riding. No lunging, no groundwork, nothing.

And it was amazing. It was profound. It was connecting with people through horses (and I'm totally here for that). Not only did I learn more about horse posture and how school horses compartmentalize but I also built community with my instructor and the other three ladies. We talked about our social anxiety (well, I did) and how the barn has helped us (ok, me, I won't put words in other people's mouths) with anxiety. We talked about how cute Chris Hemsworth is (okay, that was me too but I swear the others agreed) and how he was right in the movie 12 Strong when he said the horse moves where you look. 

One of the ladies talked about how she asks the horse she works with if she can ride him and they have such a bond that he answers and she understands. They communicate. How crazy awesome is that? Another lady talked about being assertive and confident at work and with her dogs but not at the barn (although after hearing her trail ride story, I'm immensely impressed she even rides!! Kudos to her!) and my instructor gave some tips for that.

Bottom line? It was wonderful. There was no riding. There was no grooming, no tacking up, nothing. Which don't get me wrong, I missed that but I'd also spent an hour with Pepper before my lesson so I still got my horse time. ;) Some people would have said that the lesson was a waste of $50. Some people wouldn't even have come out if they knew they wouldn't have been riding. Heck, I was that way 6 months ago. 

Now, though? Now, I can appreciate the beauty and wonderfulness that can be found in just communicating with my fellow riders and enjoying the community that is built at my barn. Riding is wonderful and learning about horses is amazing but the community? The people? 

That's priceless.

Round Pen Magic

I've been an avid watcher of Heartland for 15 seasons now. I stopped for a while after my dad died because that was something we did together and I just wasn't interested anymore. Than I house sat at a friend's house this past summer and she had Netflix so I took advantage of that and caught up on Heartland. Now, I have to wait a while for it to come out in America so it's time for some reruns! 

I swear there's a point to this. 

On Heartland, they do a lot with round pens and joining-up and connecting with your horse. I've always been fascinated by it and now I'm learning new techniques and skills to help me better connect with Pepper at the barn. So when the barn that I ride at got a round pen, it was like real-life Heartland Ranch! Just without the added drama and cute cowboys (yet, I'm still not giving up hope on that).

I couldn't wait to get out to the barn and experience the Round Pen. Yesterday, I finally got that chance. I started out in the paddock with Pepper to work on some connection exercises that I learned from my Warwick Schiller videos (and that's another blog because it was a whole learning experience in itself) and, with some input from the knowledgeable and amazing owner of the barn, eventually headed up to the round pen. 

My plan was to just turn Pepper loose and sit on the mounting block and see what she'd do. She hadn't really wanted anything to do with me in the paddock (again, that's another blog so you'll have to come back, bwahaha) so I wasn't expecting her to really hang out with me. No expectations, remember? 

We went into the round pen and I took off Pepper's lead rope, turned away, and went to sit on the mounting block. Pepper took a few laps of the round pen, watched another horse, Frigg, be lunged at the other end of the ring, and snuck a few mouthfuls of grass. I sat and I watched.

And it.was.magnificent. I had never just been with Pepper when she was loose before. She was always either on a lead rope, under saddle, or far off on the other side of the paddock as she'd been a little bit before. Now, it was just me and her, her and me. Together and yet separate. I was able to truly appreciate her beauty and her grace.

I had no expectations. I didn't really know what I was doing in the round pen. I was just kind of playing it by ear. Taking my cues from Pepper. So I sat and I waited. In just a few minutes, Pepper came over and stood by me. She nudged my arm and snuffled at my watch (which she really enjoys snacking on haha). I was sure she'd wander off at any minute. After all, not only was she not on a lead but this was a new experience for her. Surely, she'd want to check it out.

But no. She just stood by me. Bumped my head with her muzzle a few times. Let me pet her. I talked to her, told her what a good girl she was. Took some selfies and sent them to my family with a text that said my view was better than their view - my sister-in-law responded with a truly adorable picture of my nephew. I was forced to concede that she might win that debate.

Not my best angle, haha!

After a few minutes, I decided to just get up and walk away and see what Pepper did. At first, for a minute or so, she just stared at me, like "hey, lady, where'd you go?" Then she moved and walked towards me and came to a stop at my side. I took some steps. She did, too. I stopped. She did, too. I'm pretty sure my grin was quite large at this time. We began to walk around the arena and I took care to match steps with her. She did a "lick and a chew" as Warwick says. It was just a peaceful, relaxing time.

I didn't ask anything of her. She didn't ask anything of me. I had no expectations of her. She had no expectations of me. We were just two beings in the universe, connecting. It was exhilarating.

While I'm sure that I didn't do everything correctly, and we had a bit of an "oh crap I dinged my hoof on the bottom bar of the round pen as I exited and I'm going to die" moment at the end of our time, it was a start. It was a beautiful beginning. Because sure, riding is great. I enjoy it as much as the next true equestrian. But it sure isn't all that there is.

Being with my horse, present with her in the moment, staring out at God's amazing creation, - not only the beautiful mare in front of me who trusts me with her hoof (see previous post) but also the brilliantly changing leaves, the wind whistling gently in my ear - just being still, it reminds me that life is good. 

Life is good.