I have kind of been having one of those weeks. Just sort of slogging through the routine, nothing particularly big on the horizon at the moment. I rode the bike into work today, and I realized something funny. When I need to clear my head about life, I tend to resort to riding my horse. When I need to clear my head about my horse, it seems the motorcycle is my next best escape. There is something about the sense of freedom that comes with it, not to mention the odd feeling that you are somewhat invincible. It's a strange paradox, because in all reality, you are the furthest thing from invincible. There is probably little more of a vulnerable position to be in, than on the back of a motorcycle whipping down the interstate. Yet somehow it feels that way.
This morning was one of those days where I needed to clear my head. And I tried, for the forty-five minute commute to work, yet I am still slightly muddled. I am frustrated with my riding. I keep struggling with the same issues, and I can't seem to get everything to click. It does every once in awhile, but I don't seem to have the ability to put the pieces together and repeat it the next ride. Sometimes I feel like I am so far behind the power curve because I got such a late start in this. Taking care of horses is something I know I can do. I have a decent base of knowledge and good instincts, and that is something I can continue to increase easily. Riding, however, is not. I wish I didn't have to work, so I could ship myself off to be a working slave to a trainer until I figure out the basics. I find myself so resentful that I wasted two and half years with a horse that did very little to increase my ability. I was told for so long that the horse wasn't the problem, but rather I was the problem, and it beat my confidence into the basement. Well, now I have a horse that I know is not the problem. The only issue with that is that it points the big fat finger right back at me.
I've decided that somebody needs to blindfold me and put me on a lunge line for the next decade, until I can figure out what the heck is going on underneath me. I have this innate ability to feel absolutely nothing. Unless it is extremely dramatic, I have no idea when a shoulder is falling in, when hindquarters are bulging outside the circle, or when their back is properly engaged. You see, there is the frustration again - because that part of riding is about FEELING. You can't read it in a book, or watch it in a video. You have to figure it out through feeling it. And apparently, my senses for feeling these things are as dead as a doorpost.
Sigh. I know that this is a process, and I know that I have to take it one ride at a time. But there are days that I do feel like throwing in the towel because I don't see myself progressing at ALL. Then I hear my mother's voice in my head, telling me that I can use my stubborn streak (which is a mile long, for those who don't really know me) to my advantage if I just choose to apply it properly. Obviously, that's what I have been doing, since I keep climbing back on, ride after ride, trying to figure it all out.
Then you couple all the riding issues with life issues, and at some points you hit a bit of overwhelm. Work has been extremely stressful this month. Finances are weighing heavily on me at the moment. The first year of owning a business is very tough. Yet with that being said, I wouldn't trade it for the world. I love what I do, and I wouldn't trade it for anything, even with all the work and pressure that it involves.
I'm hoping to set some goals to get things moving. It's tough though, because the riding goals require me to get my tail to more regular lessons, which involves money, so it turns into a double-edged sword. I know I will figure it out, and the key is to take it a day at a time. After all, Rome wasn't built in a day....right?