It's interesting. I can't sleep, as usual. See, I spent more than twenty years of my life working with horses, making my way all the way up to become a professional rider. At some point, I thought I let it go, but the life always seemed to come back, and I'd dabble in it again -- as a rider, a teacher, a groom, a barn worker, and the like, on and on, steady and continuous.
It has come up again, and I'm not sure quite what to do. I'm literally on the fence.
Ever wonder what it's like for an Olympic ice skater to retire? They spend their whole lives practicing, and then, suddenly, one day, they wake up and realize that the triple axel was for some weird series of strange competitions, and they may throw out their skates, and they have bills to pay, a dog to feed, and a new partner who's making dinner. Nothing seems to make sense because before, the only thing that made sense was the ice.
Yes.
From ten years old on, my focus was on riding. I never dated in grade school, high school, and not much in college, and as a result, I suppose I'm rather immature. Always, I tore out of school at the end of the day, heading to the barn. I obsessed about riding. Now that I'm 43, I admit that the drive is still there, but do we always have to pay attention to these drives? I remember, at the height of my career, right after I quit, I sat in my apartment, teary-eyed, and rocked on the couch, because I was so used to the constant movement of riding so many horses a day that I couldn't stand to sit still.
No, the drive isn't that intense anymore, and I have a fuller life, but indeed, I miss horses here and there.
So an opportunity comes again -- a small chance, but it has potential. But when I think of those skaters and how they continue their lives, I notice a pattern. At some point, they seem to let go of the competition and head back into the mindset that they had when they first began the sport as an eager kid. It's like this: I think I'll just do it for fun.
But with horses, when you do it for fun, you need extensive financial backing, a world beyond a mere pair of ice skates. So I've always worked in the business instead. And when I wasn't working, I wasn't riding. But I believe there's a reason for everything, even within the simplest of decisions. When I think about the question, "What is the most important thing to me at this age?" I'd have to say, it's not competition or writing or books or having all of the equipment or winning at shows. Simply put, the most important things to me are these biggies: support and love.
See, I don't need to rock on my couch anymore, feeling teary. Because if I keep support and love in mind, the decisions I make will always bring me what I need and in turn, I can give back. And that fills me up in a way that I never knew was possible when I was so driven to ride and succeed. Now I can kick back, smile, close my eyes, and know that at some point, it will all make sense again.
I suppose I've already written my way into a decision, right here, right now. Whenever I 'm doubtful, I get quiet, look inside my heart, and ask myself, "Which way am I leaning?"
I hope your decisions come to you easily on your journey today. I hope that you feel loved,
C.A. MacConnell
P.S. 💕💕💕
