Gold Rush

Truth, like gold, is to be obtained not by its growth, but by washing away from it all that is not gold. - Leo Tolstoy

It’s common for folks to have one side of the body that is stronger, more agile. I see it in my Pilates clients all the time. Referring to a well-known audio bite on social media, I call one side The Gladiator (Maximus Decimus Meridius: strong, undefeated, commanding) and one side Jeff (just a regular, okay wimpy, guy).

Programming unilateral work into my classes shows my clients which side is the fierce fighter, and which side is just along for the ride. And maybe, with some work and some time, we can help even them out.

In the same way, my journey back to riding after injury has been purposeful and deliberate. It has been frustratingly slow at times but also full of meaningful milestones, large and small. My favorites are those little discoveries and “aha” moments. I think of them as nuggets; those bits of gold that shine when you wipe away all the dirt and debris they’ve been hiding under.

Marks of my progress, regardless of size, are all meaningful. This past week there was a small nugget involving a shift of my foot position while posting the trot on Ty. Moving it back a few inches enabled me to continue to cue him forward more effectively and changed my body position as I rose from the saddle into a straighter and more secure line. Tiny change – big result.

My trainer pointed out that my improved strength from Pilates and other exercises made the change possible. Knowing my efforts were paying dividends was especially sweet for me.

I was talking about the nuggets to a friend at the barn and how my lessons were going so much better. “With your fear becoming less intense, there’s less noise in your head,” she said, “and you can hear what you need to hear now.”

That struck me. Without all that chaos, I can listen to my trainer, I can feel my horse, and I can see how my body is reacting. The stillness enables me to make progress.

As the site of my falls, the arena had become known in my mind as my field of broken bones and thus avoided while riding. I’d been in the arena on Trudy as part of a trail ride, hacking around the property, but I admit I’d hurry my way back out to the trail where I felt a little calmer.

Brains are bastards sometimes – they don’t like to let you forget.

But this past week, Trudy and I returned to the arena with my trainer for a full lesson and this was another milestone. Now I know my incidents in the arena were both on Ty, and it will be a while before I’m ready to return to the arena on him – we stick to the round pen for now - but even being on Trudy in the arena caused me to feel anxious.

My wonderful trainer kept my busy brain occupied with circles and geometry and don’t you know that one of those nuggets popped up.

Turning to the left was simple. Trudy requires very little cueing; she is such a sensitive girl. I just look and turn my shoulders to the left and she knows where to go. But to the right we were struggling.

All my serious injuries, other than my back, have been on my right side. As a result, I have a whole load of metal in my right shoulder and arm. Amid my attempts at circles to the right, I realized my past injuries were limiting my ability to bend that way. Hello Maximus, meet my pal Jeff.

Well, duh. Sounds obvious now but it wasn’t until we practiced that I saw it and was able to fix it by exaggerating my bend to the right. And just like magic, Trudy and I made perfect circles to the right. I had to think about it and be more deliberate, but we got there.

The Gladiator and Jeff. Different but the same. And I must accept both sides of me.

Because none of us are just one thing. We listen to some things, ignore others. We are both strong and gentle. We can be incredibly kind to some and surprisingly, even if unintended, uncaring to others. We’re complicated. We’re human.

I started writing The Gray Horse Dairies in 2021, before the accidents, before Ty, before all of the momentous changes that have happened between then and now. I wanted to write about what I was learning about myself through my relationship with my new horse Trudy, about looking for joy that had been missing in my life, about a return to some childhood dreams, and about the wisdom that can be found in the gray space, in the ether that lies between the black and the white – between The Gladiator and Jeff – and you know what I found there?

Shining nuggets of pure gold.