I got to ride bareback again today. Getting up on the horse without assistance is still a bit of a comedy. Glad to give the horse, my friend and myself a good comical moment or two.
We didn’t ride too far and we only trotted a little bit. The greatest joy for me was in feeling connected to this amazing being. I just sat there, balancing, feeling his rhythm, doing my best to listen within to what he was telling me. By the end of the ride I felt very in tune with the horse, and the horse was in tune with me.
We had a few conversations such as the horse, Tate, saying to me, “Let’s trot some more.”
Me to the horse, “No, I’m tired. Please, let’s just walk the rest of the way.”
Tate, “It would be good for you…”
Me, “My butt hurts. Let’s walk.”
Tate, “You have to learn. Let’s trot.” and then he begins to trot.
Tate also told me I did good. As long as I am trying, he tells me I am doing good. He stands patiently as I try to get on him bareback. He stands very still, acting as if it’s okay that I am throwing my leg at him, kicking him, pulling on his mane and almost cursing. He’s okay with that. He’s a very patient teacher.
I throw my leg up as high as I can, just clearing his rear and do my best to jump at the same time, grabbing his mane to lift my body onto his back. That’s how it’s supposed to go.
Instead I end up with the same result over and over. He stands there looking as cool as any paint horse can look, and I look like an absolute fool. I am laughing at my lack of ability to get off the ground high enough. Yet all that matters to me tonight is that I did my best. I didn’t make it up by myself, but I tried. And Tate says that is good.
Being on Tate was amazing. Talking with Tate was thrilling. Being out on the open prairie was magical. Feeling tired before midnight is odd.
But it’s a good tired and I will go with it…
Tate would say, as long as you did your best, and tried something new, then you shall sleep well.
And so I shall. Good night.