Power

Today she and I fought. This morning and this evening. She ruined my mood, she ruined my ride, and I let her.

I hate her just a little for that. That she has the ability to get under my skin and force my mood to sway. No longer. I refuse to give that power to anyone. My temperment will be my own. It is mercurial enough without the aid of others.

Just before going to the barn harsh words followed me out the front door. My mood plummeted and all I wanted was solace in my horse. Mo's day, it was today. We would have fun, she and I, flying unfettered through the pastures.

As I walked out to catch her I forcibly set my mood aside. I had to, Mo can scent a bad mood a mile away and unerringly goes the opposite direction. I thought I had myself in check. I thought I was alright. I was pleased that I could set aside such trivialities and be in the moment for my horse. She caught me, I caught her and I just hugged her, she smelled faintly of week old show sheen.

On the way back to the barn we played some little games like falling leaf and stick to me. No matter how fast I run, Mo can trot faster. I need a new tactic to garner the canter. In the barn I tied, brushed and tacked her. Back out to the pasture we went, armed with a camera to hopefully take some film of the two of us playing.

Online went well, I think. Mo was light with lots of draw. It wasnt long before I mounted and, inspired by our online connectivity, I took off the halter. A boarder came out then, to catch her horse. Mo saw her and checked out. Foolishly I thought I would be able to garner her attention back. I was wrong. After two attempted take offs to the barn I got off. I put her halter back on. I fashioned our 22' line into a hackamore. My forcibly put aside negativity and pain was returning. Of all the days I could have used a flawless amazing ride, this was one of them.

Remounted, I directed Mo onto a circle. On said circle she defined the laneway side as terror for no reason I could discern so I ignored her obious cues and pushed her, into a figure eight patterns, varying with just circles at a trot and canter. Our canter maintaining gait was miserable so I added more energy via lead portion of the hackamore. That helped, fixed it compeltely actually, but I used it for the wrong reason.

I was getting frustrated again, and in my head I knew it was all because of her. I knew I shouldnt let her intrude on my session with Mo this way. I knew Mo didnt understand my shortness or being abrupt. I must say though, that compared to times gone past, I was very much in control of myself. A very large statment for the growth of my emotional fitness I believe.

Finally I gave up on staying in the tiny area dictated by the video camera's perch on a barrel. I let Mo go basically where she pleased and asked her for speed. We galloped around the pasture three times before she asked me a question, she was that uptight. Because of me, and me because of her. When we finally walked out, and went back into the barn, there was lather beside the girth. More anger at myself. It wasnt lather from exertion. It was from emotional unease. Unease I caused. Kudos to Mo for controlling herself fairly well though, in her past we would have be galloping bucking uncontrollably around the pasture. She is more inclined to stop these days, when I ask.

I untacked her rather hurridly and then walked her up the laneway. This is the part that kills me... the part that was nearly my undoing. The whole time I was walking her, Mo kept loking at me every four steps or so... just a swing of the head, glance over, plain as day, asking me "Are you ok?" It was then that I realized what had happend, how I had once again allowed outside folly to influence my time with her, it was then that the tears tried to make an appearance. Then, as now, I pushed them away, marking them for weakness.

On the return trip to the barn Indy stood in the shelter, head straining over the fence, looking for us, for me, concern writ on her face as well. They may have no voice we can understnad, but that doesnt mean they lack wits. Both my girls knew of my internal turmoil, and both struggled to help me.

I fed Indy some treats when she met me at the gate, hugged her nose, but then had to ask her to move to protect my herd of two with Mo. Mo stayed at the gate for a bit, obviously trying to console me. Ive never felt such an outpouring of support from any person as I have felt from those two horses this afternoon. All without words. It was beautiful.

On the drive home and the subsequent drive to class this evening I contemplated my situation. She cannot be allowed this effect on me any longer. It has been going on for nigh on two years. I can not emotionally handle the jagged lows she creats that accompany my personal highs. Not any more. It is highly unlikely that her confrontations will cease, but I have made the descision to refrain from allowing them to affect me this deeply. It is unfair to Mo, Dakota and Indy, who have to deal with me on these occasions. It is unfair to myself to try to handle this trauma alone, in my own head.

Once the choice was made I felt like a weight was lifted from me. I have made this 'choice' before, but always kept a peice of the woe for myself. For whatever masochistic sad reasons my heart had for hanging onto to that tiny sliver of pain, it is gone now. Whatever happens, it will just happen and I will move on. I do not need to cry Woe is Me any longer. Effort will be made to focus on the delight not the distress. It is done. She will have no power over me any longer. I am free

Who is she? She is my mother.