This is a post about myself and horses that was out of place in the different camping thread.
In my life immediately prior to retiring and living in a cargo van, I volunteered at an equestrian park in Somerset County, New Jersey after working in a cubicle all day.
Not cleaning stalls, I was assisting in beginning riding classes, and in horse care workshops. I got to do the fun stuff, without having to muck stalls. Unlike in my real paid work, I was the recipient of public gratitude for my efforts. Horses and riders (and instructors) appreciated my efforts. It was great therapy that cost me nothing, except for the riding lessons and trail rides.
During this period my riding improved greatly over my previous riding. I call this period as my second incarnation as an equestrian. Basically, I and whichever horse I rode, both together were enjoying riding more.
Sad to leave that behind, but NJ is expensive.
As I was preparing to retire in June 2015, and to leave NJ in October, some bearded guy, with a blog and a forum, was telling me "Go West, old man".
I went back for a couple of their horse shows. At the last one, I saw a horse that had too many people around it. They were adjusting the stirrups for a junior rider. I went over to check it out and I saw the horse was freaking out, with bulging eyes. I held my hand out with the back to the horse's nostrils to let the horse sniff. A shock to me, the horse nipped at me. I asked who is this horse? Nella, was the reply.
I had had one experience with Nella in a horse care workshop about three years earlier. Nella was bothering the student working in an adjacent stall. I was told to check it out and provide overwatch for the student. I leaned against the wall across from Nella, and watched Nella for a while without speaking or any movement. She calmed down after a bit, getting used to my presence. I started quietly talking to no one in particular about nothing much. She began to show some positive interest in me. I told her about something that I knew the horses liked. I would lightly stroke their forehead down to their nose with my fingers. I moved my hand in the air as if I was doing that then Nella presented her forehead to me, lowering her head as she extended her head my way. I gave her the treatment and talked some more. The student was done and we left. I had tried to see Nella again, but they had moved her, and unless I was supposed to be in the barn, I shouldn't be wandering around. Getting in the barn workers way draws negative attention.
About three years later and no contact since. After the nip and finding out the horse was Nella, I said "Nella, it's me, Wayne". Immediately her eyes relaxed, as did her body. Years later, this horse still remembered the 20 minutes that I had spent with her. Didn't remember my smell, but knew my voice.
Later on, I was reading something online which referred to "The Little Prince", the part where the prince is asking a fox, what should the prince do to make the fox his friend. the basic gist was "go the place where the fox will be, sit a little away, and don't talk directly to the fox, just talk out loud about things in general, eventually the fox will become interested in you." This is not a direct quote.
My previous incarnation as an equestrian, our horses wouldn't come to me. Lightning flashing, thunderstorm approaching, I'm there to take them into barn to safety, and they would stay away from me. I was not a happy person during those years. Anger was the core of my being.
What changed me that dramatically, not meds or talk therapy. It was one instructor noting that I wasn't happy, and thus wasn't being the best rider the horse deserved, mentioned "what we do with horses is out of love." She said this with a beaming smile and twinkling eyes, at that moment I felt as if she had unlocked my heart, that love was okay for me. I started talking with that horse, Norbert, about what I hoped to achieve during each lesson and asking for his help to be a better rider. Norbert actually did that for me. I rode Norbert a lot, being that I was 175lb and Norbert was one the few horses that I could ride. My first horse there, Norbert would also be the last horse I rode there, on a trail ride in early Autumn 2015. He gave me the most fantastic canter through the woods on our last ride, which was what I was thinking about in my head before I gave him the signal to canter. He jumped two fallen branches that crossed the trail without breaking stride. He was not known to be a jumping horse. the following rider, the "whip", caught up and exclaimed, "Norbert jumped two branches!" I had felt two instances where the strides were longer, a little bit of floating in the air.
The other night I was outside and walking back towards the RV under a starry sky. I said, without sarcasm or irony, "God, I love this world." Which surprised me, then I thought "am I going to die now?". A novel/play/movie trope where someone achieves happiness, then passes on happily to the after life.
In my life immediately prior to retiring and living in a cargo van, I volunteered at an equestrian park in Somerset County, New Jersey after working in a cubicle all day.
Not cleaning stalls, I was assisting in beginning riding classes, and in horse care workshops. I got to do the fun stuff, without having to muck stalls. Unlike in my real paid work, I was the recipient of public gratitude for my efforts. Horses and riders (and instructors) appreciated my efforts. It was great therapy that cost me nothing, except for the riding lessons and trail rides.
During this period my riding improved greatly over my previous riding. I call this period as my second incarnation as an equestrian. Basically, I and whichever horse I rode, both together were enjoying riding more.
Sad to leave that behind, but NJ is expensive.
As I was preparing to retire in June 2015, and to leave NJ in October, some bearded guy, with a blog and a forum, was telling me "Go West, old man".
I went back for a couple of their horse shows. At the last one, I saw a horse that had too many people around it. They were adjusting the stirrups for a junior rider. I went over to check it out and I saw the horse was freaking out, with bulging eyes. I held my hand out with the back to the horse's nostrils to let the horse sniff. A shock to me, the horse nipped at me. I asked who is this horse? Nella, was the reply.
I had had one experience with Nella in a horse care workshop about three years earlier. Nella was bothering the student working in an adjacent stall. I was told to check it out and provide overwatch for the student. I leaned against the wall across from Nella, and watched Nella for a while without speaking or any movement. She calmed down after a bit, getting used to my presence. I started quietly talking to no one in particular about nothing much. She began to show some positive interest in me. I told her about something that I knew the horses liked. I would lightly stroke their forehead down to their nose with my fingers. I moved my hand in the air as if I was doing that then Nella presented her forehead to me, lowering her head as she extended her head my way. I gave her the treatment and talked some more. The student was done and we left. I had tried to see Nella again, but they had moved her, and unless I was supposed to be in the barn, I shouldn't be wandering around. Getting in the barn workers way draws negative attention.
About three years later and no contact since. After the nip and finding out the horse was Nella, I said "Nella, it's me, Wayne". Immediately her eyes relaxed, as did her body. Years later, this horse still remembered the 20 minutes that I had spent with her. Didn't remember my smell, but knew my voice.
Later on, I was reading something online which referred to "The Little Prince", the part where the prince is asking a fox, what should the prince do to make the fox his friend. the basic gist was "go the place where the fox will be, sit a little away, and don't talk directly to the fox, just talk out loud about things in general, eventually the fox will become interested in you." This is not a direct quote.
My previous incarnation as an equestrian, our horses wouldn't come to me. Lightning flashing, thunderstorm approaching, I'm there to take them into barn to safety, and they would stay away from me. I was not a happy person during those years. Anger was the core of my being.
What changed me that dramatically, not meds or talk therapy. It was one instructor noting that I wasn't happy, and thus wasn't being the best rider the horse deserved, mentioned "what we do with horses is out of love." She said this with a beaming smile and twinkling eyes, at that moment I felt as if she had unlocked my heart, that love was okay for me. I started talking with that horse, Norbert, about what I hoped to achieve during each lesson and asking for his help to be a better rider. Norbert actually did that for me. I rode Norbert a lot, being that I was 175lb and Norbert was one the few horses that I could ride. My first horse there, Norbert would also be the last horse I rode there, on a trail ride in early Autumn 2015. He gave me the most fantastic canter through the woods on our last ride, which was what I was thinking about in my head before I gave him the signal to canter. He jumped two fallen branches that crossed the trail without breaking stride. He was not known to be a jumping horse. the following rider, the "whip", caught up and exclaimed, "Norbert jumped two branches!" I had felt two instances where the strides were longer, a little bit of floating in the air.
The other night I was outside and walking back towards the RV under a starry sky. I said, without sarcasm or irony, "God, I love this world." Which surprised me, then I thought "am I going to die now?". A novel/play/movie trope where someone achieves happiness, then passes on happily to the after life.
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