Anyone who knows me well, knows I have been a horse lover since I was a shy kid in Junior High School. I read every Walter Farley book out there--The Black Stallion, The Black Stallion Revolts, The Black Stallion and the Girl (I imagined I was the girl) and so many more. I read the books by Marguerite Henry--Misty of Chincoteague, Stormy, Misty's Foal... I drew pictures of horses and knew their mannerisms and anatomy. 
I would beg to stay at KOA campgrounds as a kid--the ones with horse stables of course. I would just hang out by the round pens and breathe in all I could--even the not so pretty smells. I never owned a pair of cowboy boots, nor a cowboy hat, but I had the western shirt and jeans. I would get to sign up for the follow-the-leader trail rides in places like Montana and Idaho... this short joy ride would keep me satisfied for another year until we'd go on a family camping trip again and do the trail rides. I begged my parents to let me get a horse--which prompted amused questions from them about where would I keep the horse and how would I feed it? etc. All things that I figured would work themselves out once I got the horse. 
We had some neighbors about a mile away who had some horses.. not sure if they were actual horses or ponies, but we decided to ride them one summer's day. Having only done the well trained shuffle of the old trail horses, I wasn't quite prepared for the ride I got on one of the neighbor's horses. I don't even recall if we had parental supervision--probably not. I mounted "my" horse--I could dream couldn't I? She decided I wasn't what she wanted on her back and took off and headed straight for a tree branch. She saw it, I did not. The next thing I knew I was on the ground with a big lump on my forehead that quickly turned into a purplish egg.
Once I was "grown up" I lost sight of my love for horses. We would occasionally go on trail rides when visitors were here in Arizona, but I never experienced real horseback riding. As I got older, I started developing some fears about horses. I decided I didn't really want to ride anymore, because I was afraid I'd fall off and break some part of my body. I could admire them from afar.
Then, along came a special young lady in my son's life, who re-introduced me to my love of horses. She invited me to tag along with her to the Scottsdale Arabian Horse Show and shared her vast knowledge of horses with me while we watched the different events. We went through various stables and visited these beautiful Arabians-- I was nervous about getting too close and gave them plenty of room.
I started thinking about riding lessons. It came from something Melissa said about many "older" riders enjoy competing and begin riding later in life. It just so happens there is a horse facility across the street from us. I called. I boldly asked about lessons and signed up for one 60 minute lesson for the following Friday. You see, I've been facing some of my recently acquired fears and I'm reminded to do this every day as I pass by my refrigerator where a magnet says: do one thing every day that scares you~Eleanor Roosevelt.
Friday came and I fidgeted all morning until I walked the two blocks to my lesson. After introducing myself, I flat out told the instructor I was green and nervous. A trainer's favorite kind of student, I bet. Ha! She seemed more nervous to have me as a student, than I was of the horse. I filled out forms and signed them--basically ridding them of any liability if this horse decided to run me into a tree. I was then introduced to Smurf. Smurf is my teacher. A German Warmblood. He is going to show me more about myself than I've ever thought possible. I learned how to groom him. I learned he didn't like to be petted, but he ended up nuzzling me and licked my hand. He wasn't so finicky after all. I learned I wouldn't automatically be kicked if I walked behind him--as long as I stayed close to his hind end. I learned how to saddle him and lead him to the round pen.... did you know that if you look back at the horse while leading, they will stop? Always keep your eyes where you want the horse to go. Never knew that. As I was waiting to bring Smurf out of the stable, I had a sudden urge to walk out and say I couldn't do it.. it was a brief thought and I refused it. I learned how to mount the horse, not from a stepping block, but from the fence. Hahaha.. I'm sure I looked ridiculous, but he was patient with me. I was instructed on how to walk, stop and turn Smurf. We took time to get to know each other and by the end, he was doing my bidding. I slid off my trusty steed--like they do in the movies--and walked him back to the stable and did the whole grooming routine again--including lifting his mighty hooves and cleaning out the rocks and debris that collected.
I left the barn and felt something I haven't felt my entire life. I am learning to trust. I am learning to listen with my eyes and speak with my hands. A n d, I'm signed up for more lessons! I'm so excited.
Thank you Smurf.
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