Everything I Know I Learned From My Horse

I have written blogs before.

I usually end up so far up my own ass I can’t breathe. Not on purpose, simply by trying express myself, desperate to connect, and ultimately disappointed in my mercurial nature. But this time is different—isn’t it always?

I just want to write about horses.

Why “Off Course”? My life has never gone according to plan. I like to think that perhaps it is a good thing, but in reality, it is the versatility of a scrappy stray critter who doesn’t won’t can’t give up. Well, I do, but I always return. I really am not sure what else I would do with myself. I don’t know if there is anything more to me than horses. I am fine with this.

I ride. I write.

I have been riding for 30 years. Hunter, jumpers, equitation, dressage, and eventing. I like big sticks and I cannot lie… I love tight turns and am a stickler for being correct. Like many, I didn’t grow up with tons of money, but looking back I am grateful for what I did have. It was more than many, but never felt like enough at the same time. I am not charming or magnetic. I am sarcastic, cynical, and droll. So, I always thought I better learn everything and be the best because that’s my only chance to be successful.

I train young horses. I sometimes help people be better riders. But people are hard, horses are easy. To be honest, they aren’t hard…just complicated. Horses are straightforward. Even when we think a problem exists, it is usually in us, not our horses. Unless it is. But seeking help can be difficult. Learning to see the frauds in the world is often a perilous task. Our scars tell the story.

The weather is impossibly hot at the moment. My day job keeps me busy. My young horse needs the osteopath. So I write.

I worry about the price of feed, the scarcity of hay, the lack of rain. I bury my growing apprehension at the loss of land. I pretend that maybe one day I will be able to show again, without betraying my credit too harshly. I am learning to clap for everyone. And, finally, I am fighting the urge to hide, to play small, to not take my place in the world.