Believing in Something More...

Okay so this is where I may lose a few people, but honestly I don't much care. If you want to stop reading this now go ahead since it's my blog and I do what I want.

So pretty much for as long as I can remember I've loved anything paranormal/ghosty/spooky etc. Now I say that with the caveat that I am ALSO a huge chicken who likes her sleep so anything TOO freaky and I'm done and can't handle it. Like I want to watch all the paranormal ghost shows but the minute it gets too instense I need to watch a Disney movie to calm down.

Where am I going with this? Well, it's all about beliefs. Now I'm a logical level headed person who has a wildly creative imagination and can't just believe that what you see is what you get. I WANT to believe in ghosts and something beyond, because otherwise I find that just wholly depressing that you die and you're strictly worm food. Granted I choose only to believe in the Casper the friendly ghost-types. Malevolent spirits you can go hang somewhere else.

If something falls off a shelf suddenly, or happens unexpectedly I'm flippantly like oh we have a ghost. I am very sensitive to catching things out of the corner of my eye to find nothing there - although half the time it winds up being a chunk of mascara in my lashes or sometimes a piece of glitter.

After Dad died this really intensified my need for there to be more after death. After all where does all the vibrant energy and love a person like that go? Energy cannot be created nor destroyed, so it had to go somewhere right? (if you have a scientific answer for this you can just keep your mouth shut - no one likes a Debby Downer) 

I don't subscribe to organized religion, I'm certainly not opposed to people who do, I love the idea of finding something and putting all your soul into believing it - whatever that thing may be. Good for you people. However, I did grow up saying prayers at night (which in hindsight seems a bit weird considering how non-religious my family was, I'm gonna blame it on weird residual rituals from my parent's own childhoods)

After Dad died, there are a lot of seeming normal yet slightly off things that happen which may be purely coincidence, but honestly it's just most comforting to think of it as signs Dad's sending me, letting me know he's out there and watching me, gently still giving me guidance or letting me know I'm on the right path. It's really only something I share with a very small select group of people, although I guess that is out the window now, whatever.

Okay so this brings me to this morning, when I get a text from my coach/friend/hetro-soulmate Jacquie who was also very close to Dad, and is one of the people I have no problem sharing my weird thoughts with.

She sent me a text saying she was sitting in the Walmart parking lot - waiting for it to open, going through her phone and cleaning out old pictures. She had recently been listening to a book where they talked about orbs of lights in photos being people who have died coming back to be present or show love to the lives of their survivors. When she came across a series of photos from the day she brought Charlie/Splash to Tamrac. 

Now having been a purveyor of many ghost hunting shows I know orbs are a big thing, yes it can be chalked up to dust, or a dirty lens, or light flare. But isn't it more fun to think about what else it might be?

She sent me a few of the pictures, but I think now we both know why this ginger horse has managed to worm his way into my cold dark heart so quickly. I like to believe in the magic of this. 

Charlie is at the top of the hill.

A New Hope

So I'm going to start this by talking about a very special boy, my horse Breezer. 

I love this old man to bits, we've done everything together. For over 11 years he has been there for me, he's made me smile, he's made me cry and we've had great successes together. Again I say I love him more than I could possibly put into words. 

The truth of the matter is that we're at different places in our lives now, I love riding him - but he loves packing around little kids. He's at that point in his life where he is a great and reliable teacher, and that is what he should be doing. Yes it's fine for me to hop on him and just fart around but neither of us are really working towards a goal anymore. So I'm happy to let him be doted over by the little ones, and have him in turn teach them how to be tiny horse-people.

So with that being said - where does that leave me? I've always struggled with the idea of "what happens after Breezer?" Do I buy another horse? It took me a long time to find a horse with a personality that I clicked with and clashed with at the perfect ratio. What were the odds I would find that again? Not to mention the financial side of it. Owning a horse comes with a hefty price tag - owning two horses and being able to afford to keep both of them by myself is unrealistic - especially if I ever plan to actually save any money for a place of my own. 

Quitting riding has never really been an option, it is such a huge part of my life, and my happiness and sanity. My horse family are part of me on such a fundamental level.

The truth of the matter is I really struggle with confidence when it comes to riding. I consider myself a good rider, but it's been a long time since I've comfortably ridden any horse aside from Breezer or Timmi. It's tough admitting you're just afraid you're not good enough to ride or handle a different horse. Rationally I know this isn't true, there was a time in my life I would hop on literally ANY horse anyone would let me ride. I tell everyone that its great to ride different horses, its easier to give the advice than take it myself.

Which brings me to the point of this post - the spark of hope - of something exciting.

About two-ish years ago a bright chestnut colt came into the care of my coach Jacquie - this spunky creature with a mane and forelock for days didn't really make me think twice except that him and Breezer seemed to HATE each other - like Breezer would charge the fence at Splash and vice versa. Initially I took a stance a protective mother would take and disliked the kid who was mean to my baby. Then when we moved Splash went to live at Jacquie's sister and that was essentially that.

Fast forward to 2016 when slowly Jacquie would start talking about the chestnut colt with the easy going attitude and how ultimately it was her goal to have him be my new show horse, I mostly rolled my eyes at this, I wasn't sure I was ready for this - especially not with the horse who had butted heads with Breezer. Slowly I let the idea roll around in my head. Honestly sometimes I think Jacquie knows me better than I know myself - it would really be foolish not to trust her - and I know she would never put me in a situation I couldn't handle. We have a very clear unspoken agreement to never mention my insecurities when it comes to riding, she just magically knows the right amount of prodding I need and when its best to back off, and for this I trust her with my life. 

Now that this red-headed wonder who I've decided to dub Charlie Weasley has been around for a while the little bugger has stolen my heart. He's laid back and funny, he has such a personality. And while he's not my horse, and very well may never be - I couldn't be more excited what the future might hold for me and this ridiculous ginger horse. 

The Art of Ostriching

Ostriching - Refusing to acknowledge a problem or issue, and expecting it to just go away on it's own while you've stuck your head in the sand.

I am the Queen of Ostriching, if it were an Olympic sport I would be a Gold medal winner several times over. I am fully aware that I do this and have actively tried to do this less in life. Sometimes though to get through things, that old fail-safe method of coping has to be employed.

This Thursday I am embarking on a mission to do something that scares the ever-loving tar out of me.

Showing my horse.

"But haven't you shown before?" You may ask - Why yes, I have indeed. "Then why does this scare you?"
Let me break that one down for you. I'll have to go to the beginning for this one.

When I bought my horse Breezer, I had ZERO intentions of ever showing him aside from the odd "fun show" put on by the barn I was at here and there. There was no chance in hell anyone was ever getting me out to an A Circuit show. I wanted nothing to do with that malarky.

Well something changed, I fell in love with my coach and her teaching style, and suddenly had this epiphany of "I can do this" I had a horse I loved more than anything in the world - who, when my world crumbled around me (this would come later) stayed constant and remained the one I could count on to keep me grounded and always keep my ego in check. - I had support from a wonderful group of people. I wanted to prove that I could take my horse and go to a show and not make a fool of ourselves.

Winning never mattered to me, to this day I have never gotten anything better than a second place ribbon at an A Circuit show, and I wouldn't trade those blue ribbons for anything. Every single class that I could exit that ring in one piece was a win for me. Any ribbon was a bonus.

Every show I fought a battle with my own nerves, feeling constantly nauseous and just having a constant mantra of "don't fuck up" in my head. Considering the fact that I really don't care about winning this still confuses me. I know I can ride my horse, I know he is a good boy. Why do I get so nervous.

The more I think about it the more I'm fairly certain it is because I want to make everyone who has invested in me on a personal and emotional level proud. This may sound silly but the best part of ever getting a ribbon was hearing the clapping and hooting coming from the section of the stands that housed my family and friends. Namely my Dad. I don't want to discount anyone else here but, it's a fact I am and always will be, no matter what - A Daddy's Girl.

So what changed?

Well the year Dad got sick I quit showing. I told everyone it was because I honestly just preferred watching (probably true) and couldn't really afford it (probably also a bit true). But to be completely honest, what was the point if I didn't have him there with me or to cheer me on. I probably always showed a bit more for him than I every truly did for me.

So I retired. I went to the horse shows I watched Kelly show Timmi, and I celebrated in the victories of my team members. I took pictures, and dealt hard truths. My showing days were over.

After Dad died I took a major step back from riding. My love for Breezer and Timmi never wavered, but it was hard for me to go out and actually ride so instead I went to the barn for hugs and snuggles (which never thrilled Breezer anyways) and usually wound up just spending time with Jacquie and her family. They put up with seeing a lot of me as I tried to rebuild my world that had fallen down around my feet.

Last year I finally decided that I was sick of sitting on the sidelines and the following year I would indeed be coming out of retirement.

Easier said than done, It's been a long road back for me. Breezer is almost three full years older, and at 17 ain't no spring chicken anymore. A year off of riding, my fitness and stamina was awful (still is to be honest).

And now we're here the show starts on Friday and suddenly everything that I have bottled up and ignored is finally refusing to be ignored. As my coach Jacquie told me tonight as I sat on my horse trying my best not to just cry uncontrollably (I did an awful job of this) she knew this meltdown was coming eventually. And it all started when Breezer chose today to be an asshole and decide to do everything in his power to get out of having to work. It was just one of those moments when you suddenly question all your choices and ask yourself "What the fuck am I even doing?"

This will be my first horse show without my Dad, and that thought scares me more than anything else. I can say as much as I want to about him still being there with me and all that jazz, but when it comes down to brass tacks - everything is different... and yet it remains the same. I know I won't hear him cheering for me, or get to hear him singing to Breezer in between classes as he holds him for me so I don't get slimed. He won't be there telling Breezer he looks fancy with all his make up on, or helping me shine my boots.

Yet I still want to make him proud and do this for him.

I'm still not entirely convinced that I won't get to the show and have a panic attack, and scratch every single one of my classes. I guess we'll find out.

"Oh, my aunt's cousin twice removed has an Arabian"

Hey guys,

So as a person who has been active in the horse world for the past sixteen years, there’s something that has always made me laugh. Well made me laugh and also semi-annoyed me. It all starts with a well-intentioned non-horse-person.

“Oh ___[insert random person you don’t know at all]___ is coming to ___[insert some sort of gathering]___. You guys can talk horses.”

This statement is always meant to bring two people together with the power of a shared interest. However in my personal experience that once you get past a certain age (let’s say about 14) and actually get into the world of horses this isn’t something that is easily done.

Back in the day -  I’m about to drop a rather embarrassing personal anecdote on you guys – when I first ventured out onto the world wide web, back in the days of dial-up and a one hour time limit on the internet (all it took was a month of free-rein and an astronomical phone bill to have my fledgling wings clipped) I spent most of my time on the internet on the TY message boards. Yep, TY as in Beanie Babies – those things you had hundreds of because they were going to be worth a fortune one day, the same ones you gave to the less-fortunate 8 years later except for the ones that had sentimental value – Keep in mind this was circa 1999/2000 so I was in Grade 6. The TY message boards were the perfect dip into the shallow end of the internet if you will.

It was on those said message boards that I met a young girl about my age (in hindsight I was very lucky that she turned out to be exactly who she said she was) who was also into horses. Her and I bonded and chatted almost every day on these boards. Due to the nature of the message boards and their extreme moderation we were unable to exchange e-mails and lost touch once the world of Beanie Babies lost it’s appeal, and a person can only take so much Comic Sans in their life. Well maybe almost a year later (maybe less, who really knows) I managed to stumble across her horse RPG website (judge me all you want I was a 12 year old introvert who had no clue what an introvert was) and we reconnected. Fast forward to today when 15 years later we live about 20 minutes away from each other (a major difference from when she lived in Oklaholma and I lived in Alberta) and are still close.

Anyways the point of that story is that the whole “bonding over horses” is really easy to do when you’re young and really just love horses of any shape or size.

As you get older it gets harder, what many people don’t realize is that saying you’re into horses is like saying you’re into sports. That could mean anything. There are so many different sports within the umbrella topic of “horses”. For some reason it is really complicated for people to understand. Being a horse owner must mean that I jump right? No? Oh then you are into rodeo? No? That horse dancing thing?

You mean Dressage? Yeah close enough. 

As someone who shows on the Arabian horse circuit, if you don’t run into someone who knows the breed or the circuit, you’re better off just being vague. More often then not when you try and explain something such as “Hunter Pleasure” to a NHP as I will now refer to them, eventually this is said “So you basically just ride your horse in a bunch of circles,” 

At that point I do my best to refrain from punching the person in the nose, I didn’t sit here making fun of your sport did I? And just answer with a clipped “Pretty much,” and then spend the rest of the encounter being annoyed. Most people don’t understand how frustrating this is, and I do my best to be fairly understanding, if it is a person who I genuinely like and seems genuinely interested I will go into detail and explain, usually along with pictures and video even. 

One of the worst dates in my life I’ve ever been on, I got into an argument with the guy because he thought it was stupid that I wouldn’t take my horses out on trail rides, even though I detest trail rides and don’t find them relaxing or fun.  

I’ve clearly gone off topic and gotten on a tangent, and now I’m pissed off thinking about that horrible date and what an asshole that guy was. Pro dating tip: Try not insulting each other’s passions on the first date. In fact don’t do this ever. 

Back to the topic at hand – here-in lies the problem with the whole you can talk horses conversation.

Person #1 – “Oh so you ride? That’s cool I do Hunter/Jumper,”

Person #2 – “That sounds like fun, I show Arabians” (let me point out that that’s a lie, I do not think Hunter/Jumper sounds like fun, I think that sounds terrifying. The only time I want all four of my horse’s feet off the ground are during the canter. I’ll leave the jumping to the people who enjoy it, and until then I will just watch – and laugh silently to myself when your horse refuses and you go flying – this is horrible to admit but it’s the truth and this is my blog so I do what I want)

P#1 – “Nice,”

--- END OF CONVERSATION ---

On occasion one person might be feeling a little bit generous and this might be an alternate ending:

P#1 – “Nice, a friend of mine owns an arab” (Friend being interchangeable with: Family member, person at my barn, this lady I once met in a Starbucks – who wouldn’t shut up once she noticed I was wearing jods)

P#2 – “Oh, that’s cool”

--- END OF CONVERSATION ---

Maybe it’s just me and it’s because I genuinely hate small talk, and meeting new people. But I’m just going to go out on a limb and say that THIS IS NOT FUN. This is no one’s idea of fun. Unless you magically wind up talking to someone who does the same thing as you, you will likely have zero to talk about. And if you are in the same discipline in the same breed then odds are you already know this person, and at that point you have to just pray it’s someone you like.

I’m lucky enough to live in the Horse Capital of Canada, yep a small-ish, rural-ish city full of rich people with oil money. It just screams “buy your kid a horse” which honestly if you can afford it and your kid is passionate about it, you should. Horses teach all sorts of amazing life lessons but that is another blog post for another time. However, this pretty much leads to horse people ALL OVER THE DAMN PLACE.

And I don’t know about you but - “Man, the price of hay these days, Am I right?”  - Isn’t my idea of a good time or good conversation for that matter.

In conclusion I just want to point out that world of horses is a wide and wonderful place. Racing, Barrel Racing, Cutting, Roping, Reining, Penning, Dressage, Jumping, Cross Country, Halter, English Pleasure, Saddleseat, Native Costume, 5-Gaited, 3-Gaited, Hunter Pleasure, Western Pleasure, Equitation, Trail, Endurance riding, Pleasure riding, Driving, and ALL THE DISCIPLINES I missed. If you’re into horses there is something in there for you. However having a horse doesn’t give a person endless topic conversations to have with another horse owner.  And even if it does and we start talking about farriers or what we think about natural horsemanship, any NHP bystanders will likely be bored out of their skulls.

So please, just stop. Together we can put an end to the awkward small talk.

Disclaimer: I have MANY friends who own horses of different breeds, or participate in other disciplines, and I love them. But I can guarantee you I love them for who they are as people and not because they have horses.