Presence. That’s what she told me.
Monday, December 15, 2008
On being here and now
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Downfalls
I was looking for a cure to get rid of my fear of falling off horses. Well, winter sent it to me along with that spectacular ice storm that fell on our heads a couple of days ago...
Upon opening the curtains that morning, I saw everything from cars to fir trees to mailmen transformed into giant shiny MrFreezes. Oh! It WAS beautiful indeed. But if you had to set foot outside, it redefined walking into an extreme sport.
I had to go to work even if I must admit I thought about calling in "pale". It took me 15 minutes of banging, scraping & pulling to finally open my car's door (just to move it, I ended-up taking the bus). There was approximately 1 1/2 inch of ice e-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e... Oh, well, you want to live in the Great White North, you deal with it... right?
Anyway, the day went by, no electricity cut, which was nothing short of a miracle in these conditions. But I have to come back from work, eventually. When I got to my bus stop, I stepped out, waited a minute for the light to turn green, and resumed walking confidently to cross the boulevard that leads to my home. And there, right in the middle of the intersection, unconspicuous under a thick layer of brownish slush, lurked an invisible patch of ice. I stepped on it.
Next thing you know, I am flat on my back, the wind knocked out of me, my foot, back and neck aching like crazy, and I'm struggling to get back on my feet before the mandatory 30 seconds to cross are gone and cars start running me over. And however difficult that situation may have been, surprisingly, my first thought was : "This was so much worse than falling in the dirt from a trotting horse!" The icy street was rock hard and compared to that, the dirt of the arena - even with it's crunchy aftertaste - almost (and almost would be the operative word here) feels like a bed of feathers.
Alleluhia! I think I'm cured!!!
Luckily, I was not badly hurt. A little sprain here, a little bruise there, nothing to write home about. But in all honesty, what really, really hurt me, is the fact that there were two people walking in front of me. And these two caring and thoughtful individuals heard me fall, heard my cry of pain, and only slightly turned their heads to see me struggle before they continued crossing without even slowing their pace. What a shame!
At least horses come and see if we're hurt when we take a tumble!!!
A final thought for two of my fellow bloggers who have taken a bat hit from mother nature: Daun from The Eventing Percheron who in survival mode after the ice storm and Stacey from The Jumping Percheron who is dealing with the aftermaths of heavy rain and destructive mudslides. Hang in there ladies!
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Jumping mental barriers on the flat
Well, well... I don't know if it was the pain killers buzz or what, but today was a great class. Not only did I succeed SOME haunches in (Cynthia told me to forget about the bending, so I didn't have to try to conceal anything...Phooey!) and I believe Meeka and I jumped over an important mental barrier.
My achilles tendon is letting me down...
I have a lesson today and my foot hurts like hell. I haven't told you this but about a year and a half ago I had a stupid, stupid accident while washing a window that left a 2" scar on the skin of my Achilles tendon. The window I was washing was out of it's track, it was blown by the wind and fell on my head. It then exploded in a thousand pieces, one of them still large enough to slide along my back and land on my Achilles tendon, slicing the skin open (not the tendon itself though, lucky me).
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Then again, maybe it WAS me...
Meeka was as cool as a cucumber. It wasn't lunchtime, it wasn't too cold, it wasn't farrier fest, there was absolutely no reason for her not to be on her best behaviour. And so she was, and I was inconspicuously celebrating the great lesson I was gonna have, thinking that it would be a breeze and that I could regain some of my lost confidence. Unfortunately I was in, yet again, for a lesson in humility.