horses, guns, and God

I realize that I have been slacking in the blogging department. Forgive me. Computer time has been limited to checking my e-mail then scurrying off to the next thing, seldom even replying to said e-mails. Basically, my correspondence with the outside world has been limited, virtually to the point of nonexistent.

Lone Ram camps have been going well. They've been small, usually 2 to 4 campers, which with horses is a good thing. They learn more when they can have one on one teaching. Mylinda has been stepping back and giving her staffers more teaching responsibilities - I've taught two complete riding lessons on my own and we are usually there helping when she's the main teacher. We also teach the campers grooming, anatomy, horse behavior, how to tack up and untack, knot tying, take them hiking up to the cross for Thursday evening chapel (usually the best one of the week), bring them over to the Bighorn challenge course and swimming hole and rifle range, spend time with them talking and laughing, and of course feed the horses, clean up after the horses, and ride the horses in order to get their brains re-wired after a week with a beginner on their backs.

There's a funny thing about horses. They are not for sissies. They are 1200 lb animals with distinct personalities and minds of their own (having my hand splinted for a month was a healthy reminder of that fact) and the work never ceases. The work is hard, the muscles gained from that work are real, the sweat can raise a mighty stench and most of that lovely tan is actually dirt. And I love all of it. I love teaching people how to ride and I love teaching horses how to carry those riders. There is nothing so rewarding as getting on a tight horse and working through his issues, feeling him bend, flex then whoosh, feeling the tension draining from his body as he stretches, lifts his back and moves, really honestly moves over the ground. Poetry in motion movement, not just the dropping of one hoof after the other on the dirt. There is power, beauty like nothing else.

Teaching the rider is different. Dealing with personality on personality is a unique skill and this summer has made me very much appreciate the patience and the time my trainer has spent teaching me. I'll be perfectly blunt. People can be a challenge. Learning to love on them, teach them, encourage them, and be there all the time for them has not come easily. I feel like God is tearing me apart and rebuilding me from inside out. It hurts. It hurts really, really, stinkingly badly. But knowing that makes life easier. It makes it possible to take the pain and with it discover the joy of watching tears fade into laughter, complaints turn into "can we do that again?" and seeing skills improve, taking what I love and giving it to someone else. Bringing people into what I do and love is something new.

Welcome to my world.