When you fall off the horse..literally

Well then. You can probably assume what happened from my title.

G has been checking hay fields lately, this is part of his job. He has to walk through the fields and check for different kinds of weeds before the hay is cut and baled. The hay is currently up to his waist, which is saying something considering he’s 6’3″. It’s been raining for 3 weeks straight, so the hay is wet and heavy and tangled. G decided that that was enough of this nonsense and decided to use his horse.

I love his horse. I love the idea of horses in general. So when he told me he was going to ride through one more field after supper, I asked if I could come along and ride with him.

Look how picturesque this is! So beautiful! So peaceful! What girl doesn’t want to be riding along behind her cowboy enjoying an impromptu, romantic ride?

All was well…

But then the horse saw something scary. Like really extra scary. It may have been a bird or a fly or a piece of weirdly shaped grass or an imaginary monster that was going to eat him. Horses are good at seeing scary things, you know. Earlier in the day his blue bucket of water was definitely out to get him..

(G would like you all to know that he is a very good, solid horse and I tend to exaggerate…) But anyway..

He spooked. I wasn’t holding on very well. I made a spectacular exit off his hind quarters and did a quarter turn into the dirt.

I found out that even though that beautiful hay field looked all soft and comfy to land on, it wasn’t soft and comfy. It was hard and painful.

I got the wind knocked out of me and spent half of eternity trying to stop making embarrassing weird noises and start breathing again. I laid there knowing the horse was still spooked and could/would very well back into me and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. I couldn’t breathe, let alone move. I don’t know how the rodeo guys pop back up again when they fall off, but I sure wasn’t popping back up anytime soon. It was ridiculous.

I finally got my breath back. I stood up, slowly and with some dramatic grimaces and painful noises, and I got back on the horse.

Did I want to? Nope.

Did I kinda wimper with perhaps a tear or two in my eye? Yup.

But I did it, because I knew I needed to.

It reminded me of life right now. You go along with your day, doing relatively well, when WHAM, you’re on the ground before you even know what hit you. It could be a text from the ex-, an incident with the kids (which is especially difficult to figure out when you’re trying to blend a family), or even the behaviour of your extended family (see Family Camp https://youcandothis.blog/2019/07/04/family-camp/) There is uncertainty with each day, wondering if that day you’re going to get thrown off the horse and onto the ground.

It wears on a person. It makes you wonder if you even want to bother getting back up there, because you’re just waiting to get knocked down again. And it hurts. It hurts a lot. It leaves you banged up and bruised.

But you keep getting back in the saddle, because the view from up there is beautiful. There is a certain amount of pride in yourself for getting back up there, knowing you’ll probably be hurt again, but being brave enough to do it anyway. Because you know it’s worth it. It’s worth it for your marriage, and your kids, and most importantly, for yourself.

You are strong enough, and you can do this. Just get back in the saddle and keep going.


Photo by Carlee Dittemore on Unsplash

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