My post-angst fall-out works itself out in irritability and pointless crossness. I’m always banging on about the animal love, and putting the human nonsense to one side when dealing with them. Today, at least two of my menagerie got me all scratchy. I completely forgot my homilies about how they do not do things to one; they are just being their animal selves. The worst thing a human can do is take it personally. For about fifteen minutes this morning, I took it personally.
It took me a bit to work out what I was doing. For goodness’ sake, I told myself, sternly: it’s not all about you. I had to take enormous breaths, realise that it was not the creatures, but I who was in a shitty mood, and go right back to the beginning.
In the end, we worked it all out. We ended on the good note. This is practically the most important thing one can remember, with the non-humans. Probably with the humans too.
Red, who had been standing quiet and still as the Rock of Gibraltar through all the shenanigans, looked at me as if to say: you see, you eejit, it was always going to be fine in the end.
I don’t know what’s got into her at the moment, but she’s taken on some uber-Zen wise woman thing. The weird thing is that people always say your horse is a mirror of you. I am certainly nowhere near the state of Zen that my lovely girl is currently achieving. Perhaps she is in the business of showing me what my best self could be like, if only I concentrated hard enough.
I’m a bit overwhelmed at the moment. I’ve taken on three new projects; I’m still battling to come back from a severe professional setback. Several things are up in the air. There is uncertainty and struggle. I suppose that is just what life is, and I need to butch up a bit and get my good, stoical, determined foot forward. I’m usually pretty good at bashing on, but sometimes I feel a little out of my depth.
None of this is disastrous. It’s all very small stuff, in the wide picture. It’s the kind of thing that can be dealt with with a bit more sleep and some iron tonic and a proper dose of perspective. Most of the time, I feel possible and optimistic. I have plans and dreams and daily happinesses. But there are sudden moments when the difficult things back up on me, and I can see the fall, and that’s when I tumble into scratchiness.
So I take a deep breath, and write it down, and share with the group (oh you Dear Readers, what you have to put up with), and square my shoulders and bugger on.
The lovely Overturn, one of my most beloved horses in training, is about to go out and strut his stuff at Musselburgh, and that shall be six minutes of pure, undilute pleasure. He’s one of the happiest horses I’ve ever seen on a racecourse. He’s really good at what he does, and he just loves doing it. He’s only a novice, and, with luck, he’ll be giving me joy for a few seasons to come.
In other words, back to the small things. As long as a bonny horse in a northern race can still lift my heart, then I know nothing is so very bad.
Myfanwy the Pony. This is actually from a few days ago. She is too muddy now for her close-up. It seems even with the equines I cannot quite banish vanity. So here she is, when she was clean:
The glorious oceanic calm that is currently Red the Mare:
Stanley the Dog:
Love this de haut en bas stare: