I rode thoroughbreds throughout my childhood. Each one represented an impossible love affair of the sweetest apples offered in an open palm -- sun-drenched, bareback afternoons of free grazing in overgrown meadows -- intricate braiding of wild manes, both mine and theirs -- and mesmeric, cantering turns around the show ring.
My friends and I acknowledged that we were "horse crazy," passionately in love with the power of the bond with the animal, obsessed by the obsession of riding, unable to carry on with the normal ebb and flow of life without the presence of one's beloved equine partner.
I've commenced riding again recently, and I'm intrigued to discover that all the former passions come flooding back. To ride well is to merge with the horse in some metaphysical way -- to harness their power as one's own and to re-emerge into the world as a more potent self, unconstrained by convention or expectation. One's spirit unveils itself -- electrified, fast, fearless.
The thoroughbreds I have loved have taught me further lessons as well -- how to heighten my senses to life, so that I feel every shiver in the grass, every dimple in the wind -- how to connect to someone so closely that the sound of their voice and the grounding of their touch become as necessary and encompassing as the air -- how to open myself to gestures of kindness and guidance, mastery and flow -- because the dance of horse and rider is always choreographed magically for two. The thoroughbred turns toward deep connection like a necessity of the soul.
But thoroughbreds have also taught me that miraculous ability to bolt suddenly, if not met by a person who is genuine and substantive and respectful. I instinctively flee from fakery and pretense, and always from cruelty. It's not really a choice so much as a physical mandate, a compulsion to stand with those who are protective and sustaining and true.
Thoroughbreds represent a mysterious alchemy of power and instinct, senses and spirit, grace and emotion -- and those who ride them can't help but reveal the same mysteries within themselves. And the electric force that flows through animal and rider alike? It's the force of life itself -- charged and overflowing, transformative and indomitable. It's both a dream and the dream's awakening to reclaim this force as my own.
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Is that you riding the thoroughbred in the photo?
ReplyDeleteYes. Yours truly.
DeleteThat's a very beautiful horse you're riding. His coat is gleaming. He looks like a race horse.
ReplyDeleteHe was a race horse, actually -- prior to a career-ending injury to a fetlock. Chelsea was his name -- and he was such a dazzling and beautiful boy.
DeleteYou're helping me understand the whole "horse crazy" phenomenon here. It seems like a powerful experience.
ReplyDeleteAll-consuming, I would say.
DeleteI like what you write about horses heightening your senses. They do seem to notice everything.
ReplyDeleteThey are prey animals, so their senses are exquisitely attuned to their environment. And yes, somehow, we can learn to be more "alive" with our senses when we spend time with them.
DeleteHow old were you when you started riding?
ReplyDeleteFour years old. I loved horses with a passion -- always.
DeleteSo what made you decide to start riding again now?
ReplyDeleteI had a forced hiatus from riding due to a shoulder injury -- now healed with some expert help, I'm grateful to say. And I missed the sense of freedom -- the exhilaration -- the adventure to be found in riding. It's a fantastic feeling to be able to return to the sport.
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