Feeling scared, confused, heartbroken, excited, happy, and hopeful. Taylor swift and I could write the sequel to "22". Titled: "25".
Funny how a blustery cold day in paradise will bring out emotion in people and racehorses. Maybe it's the lonesome silence you experience when the wind takes over and becomes the audible buffer between your ears and the rest of the world, leaving you with only your thoughts. The racetrack (or any barn) is really, in general, a perfect place to succumb to mental wandering. If you've never cleaned a stall, hosed down a wash rack, or raked a shedrow you might not understand the quality time that one has to really devote to pure thought.
As summer approaches I think about my commitment to a different place, with a different plan and different type of riding. Racetrackers are carrying on with their seasonal migrations and talk amongst themselves about where everyone else is going. I keep fighting the nagging feeling that this winter I might have missed something, didn't do enough... didn't get the full experience or give enough of myself to the process. I've put some time and some thought into what it means to be a racetracker and way too much into what it means to be a woman. As I finished my chores last night and snapped up the last stall chain I felt like I had a story that NEEDED out of me, like a horse in the starting gate. I drew ten or more conclusions and similarities between love and racehorses. How the pursuit of a passion drives us to sell ourselves short, go for broke, and get back up in the morning everyday to do it all over again. How we often choose to ignore blatant gut feelings, and how pride can drive sooooo many decisions. Sometimes it's really unclear if it's fun; if you're actually driven by the process and the love of the game , or the person, or the horse- or if it boils down to just the innate desire to be winning at something.
As I hashed out my horse problems, and emotional dilemmas to a friend the other day, I commented that I might just be freakin crazy, like one tick above cat lady just might be horse lady. Her advice to me just might be the most interesting reminder that more women should hear, "um no the crazy just comes with the territory. ... You are still a WOMAN." Well ok then. I'll take that as "I was born with a license to think too deeply, care more than I should, and wish for fairy tale endings". I like to believe my upbringing and life experiences have lead me to believe that I'm tougher than that. That since I know better than to be the moth to the flame- I should just be able to continuously move forward and abstain from people that drag rather than lift, and horses that will just never fit the bill. Right? ...Well maybe... I can say that I've been burned in horses and in relationships before but these thoughts and dreams that "Disney will call after the smoke clears" still enter my head and spin me around.
Soon this Moxee, WA farm girl will be embarking on a solo journey into east-coast jumper land void of security, family, racehorses, and love. Every song that describes these times becomes even more meaningful and I'm sure that I have some great people behind me, rooting for me, as I would for any of them. As I always said after each trauma I've experienced, "at least I always have a story to tell"! (Or a country song to write!) As the current chapter continues to unfold I'm happy to say its by no means a sad story and little thoughts are foreshadowing good things to come. It's still unclear to me if I'm wholly excited or READY to enter uncharted territory where no one knows my name, my family, or any part of my past performances. I feel like I'm stepping out from the backyard match races straight onto Santa Anita.
To my inner posse: just wanted you to know how much you mean to me even though my distractions are narcissistic as hell. My good friends are joining and adding to families, becoming tax paying, contributing members of society, and I'm over here like: "I bought a new horsey today and um, I got my feelings hurt the other day ..."
