Old Friends and Horse Bloggers are the Best

In 2007 I took a memoir writing class for fun at Vroman’s, a beautiful independent bookstore in Pasadena. The instructor gave us a syllabus the first night and the assignment for the following week was to write something that fell into the category of an “uncomfortable truth.” She asserted the best writing came from a place of vulnerability.

The title of my work was “Just a Dog?” I worried I would come across like the Weimeramer lady the actress Parker Posey played in the movie Best in Show. The piece was about my first dog and how I had spent a small fortune on her to try to help her with persistent allergies, a hot-spot on her wrist that wouldn’t go away, and some incontinence issues.

So I wrote of how I became that person–the crazy dog lady. I took my dog to a chiropractor, acupuncturist and gave her Chinese herbs. This was all after the steroids prescribed by the doggie dermatologist seemed to do nothing but exacerbate her health woes. I had tremendous guilt over the money I was spending on just a dog, when I thought of the children in Africa afflicted by malaria and people in other parts of the world who struggle to feed their hungry families.

I read my uncomfortable truth essay aloud to the class and no one laughed. In fact, some of the people made sweet comments and I was asked to bring my dog to class the next week so they could all meet her. The small group of people I didn’t even really know supported me in a way I would have never imagined.

Well, it’s happened again. Last week I posted a particularly vulnerable piece on various roadblocks that have sidelined my riding for the past few years. My friend Carolyn (someone I went to high school with) and I talked on the phone one morning as I drove to work (hands-free of course) post post (sorry for the pun) and she shared that she had never heard the story of the nay-saying trainer who discouraged me from joining Pony Club. This was surprising as we have driven from LA to Chicago together two times which is at least 4,000 miles of roadtripping with lots of Johnny Cash and Coldplay in the background. I thought Carolyn knew pretty much everything about me.

“You know. That incident could be very informing of how you view the world. To be so young and have a dream that you wanted to go for and then an ‘expert’ responded so critically to you. That’s deep,” she said.

I never really thought of it like that before. She’s right. Is that why I wasn’t able to get the romantic relationship thing right until my late 30s? I had a fear of rejection and assumed I wasn’t good enough because of someone else’s thoughtless words which sent me the message that I was “less than?”

An awkward lump formed in my throat and I said, “I think I’m going to cry,” as I told Carolyn how sweet so many “strangers” have been to me–people I’ve never met in real life who have shared life-giving words of encouragement with me the past week to nudge me out of my horse stuckness.

You can see the comments on my previous post Help, I’m Stuck (My Horse Dilemma) but here’s the re-cap:

• a #horsehour Twitter chat friend and fellow blogger from England told me I had to call the contact of the lady I met at the vet

• a trainer from Colorado who also blogs shared wise words about honoring a beloved horse’s memory in the enjoyment of a new horse love and she also volunteered to pick up the phone and dial the number for me

• an equestrian blogger from Texas encouraged me by saying things work out the way they’re supposed to and it wasn’t an accident I met the lady at the vet’s office who was connected to the equestrian neighborhood

• another WordPress blogging friend from DC I’ve never met who is now a Facebook friend and Twitter follower (social media trifecta!) assured me that she knows I’ll find a way to literally get back in the saddle

• a real-life friend I used to ride with but haven’t seen in a several years encouraged me to just go for it and not care what anyone thinks

• my mother-in-law said that trainer was just a bully

• my chef friend from the American Idol adventure texted, “Catching up on your blog before bed. . . people left such nice comments! Make that darn call!”

• and one of the funniest responses I got via Facebook private message was from a sweet retired teacher who mentored me (whether she knew it or not) when I began teaching. She asked the name of that trainer because she wanted to go light her hair on fire (again, I’m not advocating violence–the hilarity is if you met this wonderful, nurturing woman, she is the LAST person you would ever guess would say something like that!).

And so this is what happened today (Sunday). I thought the piece of paper with the horse lady’s phone number was in my “horse” file folder in my desk drawer, but it wasn’t. I knew I would have to conduct an all out search. This had the potential to be a several hour project as sometimes when I’m overwhelmed by all the important papers, business cards, receipts, sermon notes, gardening class notes, torn out pages of Sunset magazine with dreamy landscape designs, and online recipe print outs, I shove them into a drawer. And my desk has seven drawers. So I grabbed a can of lemon Pledge and a dust rag to go about my business inside and out.

Would you believe I found the 4×6 scrap of paper in a folder in my closet? In a blue plastic folder that was resting in a Trader Joe’s peach crate? This was even before I finished dusting my desk. A few weeks earlier I had thrown a bunch of random documents into the crate and shoved it in the closet. It was a small miracle I found the small note.

The instant I found the horse lady’s number, I called. I didn’t even rehearse what I was going to say.

She said hello with maybe an Australian accent? I introduced myself and then rattled off my story from my dog sniffing her friend while at the vet’s which is how I got her number in the first place, to losing DC, to my ill-fated lesson where the trainer drugged the horse as I was on the mounting block, to being from the Midwest and hating the fact that where we live there are no pastures for horses, to my soft spot for Thoroughbreds and how I mostly rode hunt seat but dabbled in dressage and would like to someday board near trails and do more trail riding. I even told her about the mean man who said that the horse boarding facility in Orange Park Acres was for residents only.

And you know what, she listened to me. Really listened.

And then it got a little quiet because she was thinking on the other end of the phone (while she was leading a horse to turn out).

She asked if I wanted to board, buy, lease, or take lessons and I said all of the above.

She said she knew of people who were looking for someone to lease but based on what I was looking to do she didn’t think it would be a fit (trail riding only). Then she told me of the homeowners’ website for the equestrian community and said I could put up a classified ad.

Her next piece of advice was to try out the local boarding stable close to my home (where the gal drugged the horse). She said it’s under new management and she thinks there has been a turnover of trainers.

Then she said she knew of someone who had a horse that really ought to be leased because it needed to be ridden more and it sounded like a type of horse I would like. She told me she would investigate that situation, and keep me in mind and if that or anything else came up, she would call me.

So now I have an action plan, thanks to an unmet equestrian friend. And coupled with that I have a cheering section made up of loyal old friends and new blogging buddies who have no idea how their kind words have lifted my spirits and buoyed my determination.

I am humbled and honored, and all I can say is thank you. I feel the love. 🙂

I’m curious to know if you’ve ever been inspired by a simple act of a kindness by a stranger (or better termed, a friend you had yet to meet). Do tell!

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