The Relationship

You know that thing, where couples start to look like each other? Or, dog owners and their dogs bear a striking resemblance? Do we start to morph into the others in our lives, or are we drawn to those that are similar to us in the first place? My cats and I do all have grey hair. They've given me mine.

Maybe it's both, with us naturally seeking out what is most comfortable and relatable to us...which is namely, us! Then, over time, the edges blur and we become more and more alike in our visage.

Considering that, how am I like a small, spotted horse? For I was surely drawn to her, feeling there was some commonality, some thread of similarity, some connection...some spark! Just like a budding romance, I looked into those big beautiful eyes of hers and fell in love. Sigh...

Oh, the times we fall in love, only later to discover how WRONG it was. We kick ourselves to the curb long after it's been done to us, or after we've done it to the so-and-so who broke our hearts. How stupid! How could I have been so wrong? What was I thinking??!!

Been there, right? We let that gleeful spark of recognition, the one that draws us to the perfect mate (oh, he was just so cute...nice...talented...rich...fill in the blank), lure us in and then we start to find those hidden "assets" of this potential partner.

So it is in the horse world as well. We fall in love. Maybe that's more of a woman thing, too. When men go horse shopping, do they fall in love, I wonder? Or are they looking for the equivalent of a mid-life-crisis sports car and a beautiful blonde? Maybe they are completely sensible and get that horse that is the perfect match...and then fall in love with it later.

I don't know. But the women I've come to know in the horse world all fell in love, at least at some point. Sometimes with disastrous results. Some are able to let go, acknowledge it was a mistake, and find another love of their life. Some approach it with "I've been burned before, and I'm not doing that again," trying to be completely sensible. Some have bought the high heels; now it's time for sensible shoes. Others are going to wear those high heels, dammit.

Others fell in love with what appeared, to the cynical observer, to be the completely wrong horse...only to discover that it was indeed the right one after all. I have participated in, and overheard, many discussions about what's wrong with someone else's horse and the relationship it has with the rider. Likewise, I'm sure I've been the subject of many of those discussions.

Initially, I was sooooo sensitive about this stuff. It was embarrassing. It annoyed me. It hurt my feelings. It made me feel wrong and stupid. And stubborn.

Over time, I've come to see that this discussion of other people and their horses is all part of the sorting out process of each person and their own beast. You sort of get "permission" to have these conversations because you've earned them. You have been where this other poor dope is -- and may very well still be there, yourself.

In all the talking, you are plugging yourself into the equation and thinking "Well, at least I don't have that problem." Or, "At least she doesn't do that any more." Kind of like how we feel when we watch idiots behaving badly on reality shows: at least we're not that bad!! Some sense of smugness and relief are part of the picture.

In all relationships, the goal is to be drawn to that potential, and then with experience and time and hard work, that potential gives way to the reality of pleasure. It can become so much more than you imagined, or what was so promising. After many hours of getting to know each other, trust each other, make mistakes with each other, having fun with each other, you finally have built the foundation for...MAGIC.

Magic can happen early and along the way, too. It's a good thing it does, or we'd give up on the whole thing. But the magic that comes from knowing, from allowing that other one inside your heart and mind, from being vulnerable and strong at the same time...well, that's the true reward.

My little spotted wonder horse didn't seem too magical. Especially when I was on the ground looking up at her. At those times, when I was thinking I was way too old for this, that maybe this relationship wouldn't work, and that maybe I'd have to try this with a new partner, there was darned little magic in the bruises I would have.

I was advised "Get rid of her. There's a lot of other horses out there." Or, more gently, "You know, Martha, she might not be right for you." Or, the usual "We just don't want to see you get hurt." "Worse."

Oh, the sleepless nights. Oh, the tough decisions. Oh, the torment. How could this be so wrong when it had felt so right?

I was always worried about what she was going to do next. So far, nothing she had done had either killed me or scared me off completely. But what else did she have that she hadn't yet revealed? What horsey tricks was she capable of? Was she plotting against me? And when would it happen? This is not fun.

Gayla rode my spotted wonder horse. I could see her thinking, hmmm. Then she told me, "Well, she doesn't do this. She doesn't do that. What she does is this."

Somehow, having a framework, a scope of the problem, was the solution. Knowing what she would and would not do became doable. Gayla never said Autumn was not the horse for me. I knew she would let me come to that decision, myself. She did tell me, however, that it was going to take time. A lot of time.

Good thing I didn't know what I didn't know. Ignorance, as they say, is bliss. Time, I could give. Someone very generously told me that it will just keep getting better. Which has been true. There may be setbacks along the way -- lots of them -- but by and large, it gets better and better. Just like any relationship worth fighting for.

I took inventory of what I did know. My gut instinct told me she was a kind horse, very willing, very smart and with good manners. She wasn't shoving me around on the ground. She was polite and sweet. She just had moments of behaving like a hooligan. Also, when I remembered to breathe and relax and enjoy the ride, she was so much fun!

She was interested in going places. And, she got us there quickly and smoothly. She was a pleasure. That was the magic along the way.

So, I figured there was only one thing to do. I had to learn how to ride my horse.

Enter the Goddess

I thought taking lessons was the solution to my problem. Eventually, it turned out to be. Only, not initially. I thought "Nothing bad can happen in a lesson! I have a teacher now, so that won't be!"

Lessons come in many packages and sometimes in disguise. You might think your lesson is about one thing, only to realize it was about something different, and maybe much, much more.

With riding a horse, safety is of course one of the top priorities. Oh, you want to be able to do things on your horse. Top-level competitors continue to take lessons. You and your horse can always get better; that's one of the beauties and challenges of this riding thing. But safety is always an underlying issue. With green, rank beginners, it's probably THE biggest thing.

First you have to learn what you don't know. Since I hadn't ridden as a child or young adult, I didn't know what it was supposed to feel like. My body had no memory that it was trying to reproduce. So I was constantly wondering "Is this how this is supposed to feel? Is this right?"

Gayla (The Goddess, as I came to dub her) has had many, many riding lessons in her life. Many other lessons, too, but they're for her to tell. She's had those scary instructors that would make me cry just to have them look at me. The ones who yell, who diminish, who rant and rave and think that's how they're going to make you better -- they're not for me.

She's tough. I'm sure she took it and did them one better while she was at it. I would have crumbled into a little pile of horse manure at the mere thought...not that they would have taken me on as a pupil, anyway. Those types are generally for advanced riders. I'd taken lessons with 8-year-olds before, remember?

No, Gayla never said one thing that made me feel inadequate, old, unprepared, foolish or bad. She either read me correctly (she'll cry if I yell at her) or it was a choice she made to not be like those instructors she'd had. She has a great eye. It took me awhile to figure out she wasn't really looking at me, much. Hmmm. She's not even looking at me!! How can she teach me?

It turns out she was figuring out everything from watching my horse. Those darned horses. They are that perfect mirror. They do exactly what you tell them to do -- whether you realize it or not. Just like my golf swing...the ball goes exactly where I hit it. Into trees, water, the rough... She knew what I was doing (and not doing) from looking at the horse. Plus, she had to look at the horse to teach me how to ride it.

Okay, this is one big misconception I had at the beginning. I thought basically that all horses could do pretty much everything, from jumping to dressage to barrel racing to being cute in a show ring. Yeah...that's sort of true. Like it's true that most humans can play basketball to some level -- only some are Michael Jordans. Most humans can dance, but some are Fred Astaire. Most humans can sing, but some are Barbra Streisand.

Horses are athletes, but within that are hundreds of variations and differences in conformation (how they're put together), personality, work ethic, age, experience and general condition. No two are alike, just as no two humans are alike. So, each rider and each horse is an utterly unique combination. Of course they're all different. Duh.

Learning how to ride has some basic essentials, of course. The poetry begins when you have enough tools in your personal toolbox to address the uniqueness that is your horse. You learn to adjust for that horse that loves to go fast, or the one that needs prodding. You learn how to help your horse and yourself to be the best possible combination that you can be.

The goal of that, ultimately, is for the safety and comfort of the horse -- which is always a horse's first priority. But once your horse feels safe and comfortable a whole lot of miraculous things begin to occur.

It's all about the relationship. That's a woman thing. Men riders might not feel that way, or express it that way, although they should. In this relationship, the human must establish his/her leadership. Like dogs or children (probably not cats...mine don't see me as their leader, I'm sure), horses want you to be their leader. It is the leader's job to take care of them, tell them what to do and how to do it, and to keep them safe and comfortable at the same time.

You want to make the right thing easy and the wrong thing hard. So I've read and been told. That works with humans, too. You are working with pressure and release. Asking and the reward, which is a release from pressure.

I'm not talking about PRESSURE, either. Those horses can feel a fly anywhere on their body. A little bit will do, unless they've gotten so deadened to pressure from some over-zealous rider or trainer. First you ask, then you ask a little harder, then you demand. That's always the order.

From less to a little more to demanding. Having their attention first means asking a little. Having to metaphorically (or literally) yell at your horse because you haven't gotten its attention first is probably your fault. Oh, well, it's always your fault. The human's in charge, remember?

Set your horse up for success. Would you yell at a 5-year-old child "Be brave! Cross that puddle! Go down the road and face those big trucks! Stand next to that big noisy machine!" And then yell at them or smack them with a stick if they don't? Of course not. I hope.

No, you would gradually introduce them to those scary things and let them know that they can trust you. It's a process and it can be a long one or a short one -- but it takes as long as it takes.

Of course, if you're afraid, it's going to be pretty hard to convince your horse that it shouldn't be afraid. Who's the leader here?

Poor Gayla. She might have thought Autumn and I weren't going to make it. Green horse plus green rider equals black and blue. Could this relationship be saved?