Age is Just a Number

And other things people tell you when you're old

In the Northern Hemisphere on January 1st, all racehorses are, on paper, a year older. This is because of a practice in the horse racing industry called the Universal Birthday System – the reason being that racehorses are generally born in the Spring, and this makes things easier when grouping horses into their racing classes by age. So, every horse born in a particular year turns the same age at the same time.

Note: In the Southern Hemisphere, Universal Birthday is August 1^st as Spring there is a different time of year. Google it if you’re confused.

This, of course, makes me wonder what happens if a Southern Hemisphere horse meets a Northern Hemisphere horse to race. Some sort of time vortex opens and rips a hole in the universe probably. It could happen. You don’t know.

Anyway, all of that is apropos of nothing apart from, like a Southern Hemisphere horse, I turn another year older this month.

This is a big birthday for me, and it is looming large in my head and in my life. The kind of birthday where things really change. Not only for me but for how society sees me as well.

Not being racehorses, my horses’ birthdays are celebrated on the actual day. Horses, just like people, change as they mature. For instance, Trudy allows public displays of affection now that she wouldn’t have tolerated before. When she was younger, she allowed my cuddles when no one was looking, but if we were around others, she had no patience for it. Now she’s become a pretty good cuddler in her own right and is adored by everyone at the barn. It appears she has mellowed with age.

Or we’ve just worn her down by loving on her all the time. Also, a possibility.

I haven’t had Ty for as long as I’ve had Trudy, but for all the time I’ve known him, he has been a serious horse, a thinking horse, but also a kind and affectionate horse. Steady and reliable. He is still all of those things and if possible, even more affectionate. But that said, since our accident, he has had a bit more edginess than he had before.

Whenever a horse has an issue, our fabulous trainer has taught me about looking for the solution. Starting with physical: Horses can’t tell us where something hurts so we must search. Is there pain somewhere that’s not obvious? Is there a stomach issue? You just go by process of elimination until you can pinpoint the culprit, if there is one.

For Ty, we looked everywhere and he was so very healthy it was a mystery. We eventually found an abscess in a hoof that took some time to treat properly. It’s a common Friesian thing with those big hairy feet they have.

But was that the core issue? We weren’t convinced and continued to look for anything else we could do to help him. Was there anything in his environment that was bothering him? Was he struggling emotionally or spiritually somehow?

I know that last part sounds woo-woo, but animals are living, breathing, sentient beings. They have emotions and struggles, just as we do.

It became apparent that the accident influenced Ty in ways I hadn’t expected. He was overly cautious, sometimes nervous when ridden, and reacting strongly to sounds behind him. I may have had the broken bones, but Ty was injured in his own way.

I have a lot of thoughts about what was going through his head. Only conjectures of course. He is horse and has his own way of reasoning, his own way of being. I can pay attention, I can listen, I can be quiet and connect with him. But I can’t truly be inside his head.

Removing any physical discomfort was a start, reassuring him and helping him regain his confidence was next. And yes, I had to spend time with him so he could see I was alive and I was okay and I wasn’t going anywhere. He needed me to be present, and I was. I am.

Once I was able to get back on him, it went a long way to healing both of us.

Physical, Mental, Spiritual. All must be balanced.

To be honest I never expected to live this long and hadn’t really thought it through. There are some aspects of my life right now that feel great and there are times I feel like I have so much to look forward to.

Physically I’m in great shape, better than I’ve been in a long time. I worry about staying mentally sharp now that I’m not working in an office anymore with access to all the latest tech. But I’m teaching and writing and have bright, engaging friends who keep me sharp. Staying emotionally and spiritually grounded is always a little harder. And then there are times that panic sets in and I wonder how I’ll ever make it another twenty years or more.

To be honest, my own head is trickier to navigate than either of my horses.

I still am subject to those awful negative tapes that have played in my head since childhood. The ones that tell me I’m not good enough, not smart enough, and not lovable. You know, those terrible messages that were absorbed while growing up. I’d love to tell you how to stop them but clearly, I’m still working on it.

Once I’m out of balance I try to right myself. It’s not easy but I have some ways to cope. I go outside, I work out, I reach out to friends, and I go to the barn.

It’s been both discouraging and comforting to know that no matter how old I get, I’ll still be trying to work it all out. Life has always been and will continue to be a journey.

If only there was a Universal Birthday System and a defined age that we hit when magically we have it all figured out and everything becomes clear and simple.

Maybe there is. Maybe at some point I’ll finally understand it all. Probably within the last few seconds, right before I shuffle off and am gone. And my last words?

“Sure, NOW you tell me.”