Some situations take our breathe away.
I’m not sure who was more breathless. Myself, or the brumby.
Generally speaking, I avoid tests at all costs. But what if the girth wasn’t actually the test? What if the real test was found in the much smaller moments? Well before the girth was done up.
The presence of a person. The sending, turning and the stopping. The touch of the flag. The first touch of the hand. The rope. The halter. The picking up of the feet.
Without doubt, they are all uncomfortable. But with the help of a steady hand, the buckskin mare gains courage, confidence and trust in every step and builds the resilience she needs for what is to come.
Perhaps this is how it works for me too?
The “Yes”, when I wanted to say no. The saying “Yes” when I wasn’t sure I could, or should. The calculated risk. The standing up when I wanted to stay seated. The speaking up for what is right when I wanted to stay silent. The being nervous and doing it anyway. The daring to dream when all hope seems lost, the believing for the impossible; when there is no possible in sight. The pressing on when I wanted to give up. The showing up alone. The showing up when I felt like staying home. The opening up when I wanted to shut down.
This mare was being prepared long before I did up the girth. Some may still argue she wasn’t ready for it.
Maybe she wasn’t, but aren’t there storms in all our lives that we will never be fully prepared for? The storms that sure seem to justify a full blown bucking fit? The moments that take our breathe away.
The ones that feel like we got pulled out of the wild and a saddle thrown on our back? Is it any wonder we buck?
I rarely appreciate it in the moment, but I am thankful for the discomfort zone.
The discomfort of doubt that keeps pushing me to believe in who I am and what. Ican do. Even when I think I will never be enough. It’s the small step of faith that makes no earthly sense. It’s as Brene Brown would say, “…… entering the arena.” Or another goodie,
“Courage over comfort.”
Brene Brown
It’s in overcoming the doubt and discomfort that prepares us for what is next. It’s stacking the building blocks of faith, trust and confidence until they form a solid foundation. It’s building muscles in calmer waters where the wind isn’t howling, and mostly, no one is watching.
So when the wind does blow, and maybe the world is watching, I can hold that rope up high and “….disengage, disengage, disengage.” With full confidence in the muscle memory needed, and in the One who prepared me well. Even when the unexpected tightness of a girth takes my breathe away.
These are the things that build our strength, character and our confidence when we find ourselves in the middle of a full blown bucking fit.
If we stay comfortable, we will never know what we are truely capable of. And we will never be in awe that God really is who He says He is. And that He can and will still use things for His good. Perhaps even through someone like me.
This beautiful brumby had fire in her belly and was a bit sharp around the edges. But shouldn’t we? And aren’t we all? Working with such rawness was both confronting and a gift.
Being out of my comfort zone with this brumby showed me that every uncomfortable “Yes”, mattered. That every pain has a purpose. And when we know the Trainers heart for us is good? We can revel in who He made us to be. Even if we throw in a few bucks every now and then.
The whole Brumby Project was an experience that created lots of new muscle memory for me. Things like;
“I am stronger than I think I am.”
“I am more capable than I think I am.”
And when all hell breaks loose, listen to the voice that is calmly saying,…… “Disengage, disengage, disengage.” (Thanks Anna).
Special thanks to A & T Photography for these wonderful images. They are spectacular and something I will dearly treasure for so many reasons.
Thank you times a thousand also to Anna at the Brumby Project. For making this experience possible for me. For the championing of, and continued work that you do for these magnificent brumbies, and their humans.
Add on: One of the challenges for me from this camp was challenging my understanding of where the balance of firmness and softness lies. Typically, i have always err’d on the side of softness. But I am learning (from wonderful horse people, with wonderful, well balanced, truely soft horses), that progress depends on the balance of pressure and softness, being, well….. balanced. And along the journey, I continue to discover more about where I believe that balance lies. Firm kindness. Gotta love it.
Mel Teunis 