On Solid Ground

Finding stable footing in the midst of the storm

A lot of people don’t realize how important the dirt in riding arenas can be. Horses need soft (but not too soft) yet firm (but not too firm) footing.

Anyone who has regularly jogged on concrete and ended up with shin splints and sore feet can understand the need for a supportive surface.

I’m fortunate to have landed both of my horses at a great facility with a trainer and barn manager who is dedicated to her calling. Her crew is thorough in making sure the grounds are well maintained. When rain is predicted, they time their last arena run as late as they can. They have one last chance to drag and flatten the ground to avoid dips or grooves that can collect water.

Here we are in “April showers” season and weather watching has been challenging. We’re known for droughts around here, of course, but we’ve had some surprising weather the last couple of years. Remember the hurricane in Malibu? This season has been more about rain and its unpredictability. It shows up a day early or a day late or comes down in the morning when you’d been certain you had until the afternoon.

It’s hard to prepare for the deluge if you don’t know when it’s coming.

It's as if the weather reflects the state of the world around us. Just when you think you’ve got a handle on the madness, something else happens to prove you wrong.

A few days ago I was standing in the barn watching some rain that we weren’t expecting yet come down. I was listening to the oddly soothing patter on the metal roof and was trying to determine what to do with myself when my phone dinged. I was pleased to see a text from a much beloved barn buddy. She was answering a message I’d sent earlier and she let me know she was texting me from the cemetery where she was making arrangements for her father who had passed.

My heart literally clenched with empathy for her and her grief.

There are a lot of things in life you don’t get to choose. Like your parents. If you’re fortunate enough to have parents who love you, that is wonderful. What is hard to conceive, whether it’s a tricky relationship with them or not, is losing them, though you can be fairly certain that it will happen. And you don’t get to choose when or how or even if.

Loss is inevitable and so is having to navigate that loss.

I heard something that made so much sense to me recently. When you lose a loved one, part of you dies. Literally. Neural pathways that were wired to include the presence of that person in your life, continue to fire as they have. Like expecting that person to come home, or the kneejerk reaction of wanting to call them about something they’d find funny, or share a song they might like. Your brain fires as it always has, but then has to stop. Because the person isn’t there anymore. The neural pathways eventually die off and your brain has to rewire. It has to build new pathways. And it does. Eventually.

Does it make it hurt any less? No. But somehow I found it comforting to know that it’s not just my emotions, my sadness. It’s my brain at sea, searching for something or someone it had relied on, now no longer there.

Having had more experience than I’d like with grief, I could do a short “frequently asked questions” section on this topic.

How long will it last? Impossible to answer. There is no right or wrong here. It is all in your own time. You may find those around you, those also grieving, are responding differently than you are. If you can, try to keep from taking anything they do too personally. Pain affects people differently and everyone can cycle through a whole bunch of crap.

Presumably, their neural pathways are all akimbo too.

How do I keep myself from crying? You don’t. And anyone who expects you to have a timeline to “get over it” needs to just fuck right off. There is no going around it. You have to go through it. You must find a way to ride out the storm.

Grief is inevitable, not just for my friend but for all of us. We will all experience loss. Honestly, crying is the best thing you can do. Much like the rain, it’s a cleanser. It’s helping you to wash away the pain.

Just remember to hydrate. Seriously.

Spring showers don’t only come in April – rain comes when it does – that’s the nature of it. No matter how many times you drag the arena to prepare, sometimes it’s just gonna fall.

Allow yourself to be soft, but not too soft. And firm, but not too firm. And try to find level ground somehow. Sure, horses need this. But so do we all.

Photo by Mikie Ericson