Fresh off the presses, from my heart to yours. Love to you, C.A.
Chasing the Hole
Truly, I'm in a strange situation. I'm working at a farm, doing barn work. That's not the weird thing. I've done that kind of work my whole life. But what's weird is that thirteen years ago, I was the assistant trainer at this very same barn for many years. And while the head trainer was out of town -- two different ones over time -- I was completely in charge of about forty horses, the riders, the vet appointments, the farrier, the lessons, the riding, everything. At one point, my boss said, "You're doing everything, so I'm firing myself," and he laughed his deep, belly laugh like he always did. I miss you, buddy.
So now, years later, here I am, cleaning stalls, scrubbing buckets, turning horses out, working rather anonymously, watching things go down. The horses are different, the people are different, the lake is bigger, and part of the barn has been renovated, but much of it is the same, such as the three rings, the fields, and the paddocks.
So they hired me to do barn work, but the whole time I'm there, I notice things that I would normally take care of, such as this: one horse was blanketed with mud on him, which is a bad idea, as they can get skin fungi and such (his was already starting). One rider was leading her horse in from the field, getting ready to ride him, and he stopped and jerked his head at his stall. She jerked back at him angrily, leading him to the grooming stall to tack him up, oblivious to his needs, focused only on her personal mission. I wanted to tell her that the reason he did that was because he wanted to go in his stall to pee. Another horse had his splint boots on the wrong legs. (I did say something on that one, as they can pull a tendon that way).
I notice such things the entire time I'm there. It is extremely difficult to be quiet, but I carry on, do my chores, and stay out of the way. Why am I not going for a trainer job? Well, it's kind of like getting a good part in a play or film, I imagine. People have to know your name. I've been out of the game for a while...although I've continued to ride and dabble in it, but I've been out of the "scene," so to speak. To them all -- the other trainers, the riders, the owners -- I'm just some girl who tells stories.
It is what it is.
I thought I would enjoy the environment, and I do enjoy the work, but every time, I drive home with an enormous lump in my throat. I miss the riding, the people, the old horses. I miss being respected, teaching, my slew of students. I used to ride all morning and teach all evening at this place.
So where does that leave me now? I would like to ride again for fun. I'd love to have a few horses to train. That's about it. I don't have the desire to be a big-time show trainer or run an entire barn. I'm too old and not that motivated. Guess I'd like to show some, but I mostly miss bonding with one or two creatures, closely. BUT...another voice inside of me says this: it's time to let it all go, completely. If it's meant to come back, it will. If not, life will go on as it should.
I guess I've been revisiting this place for one reason only -- to realize that this whole time I've been chasing something that's not even there. Chasing the hole, so to speak. The people and horses I knew are gone. It's all been gone a long, long time. I guess I needed to go there and see the land to realize these truths. Imagine going back to a place where you were a professor for years, only to be hired as the maintenance staff.
Very strange. Will I go back? Well, I went today. See, Jeep, the badass gelding, so far my favorite, and twenty others were counting on me.
C.A. MacConnell
