Lessons from a Horse 4: Viva

Viva & I 

Viva giving a little girl a pony ride. 

 I'd like you to meet a very dear friend of mine. Her name is Viva. She's the horse pictured. She and I met based on a challenge.

"If you can get that mare to work for you, she's yours." ...I had just finished working with Wenzal's colt, Chico, when he pointed out to the chestnut in the pasture.

"That's Chico's mom. She's not very trusting. And I'm afraid she's passed some of that on to him. I think she was mistreated before I got her." I'd been working with Chico for a handful of weeks, and trusting me hadn't come easy for him. But at that moment I was sitting on him without a saddle and with a rope halter for a bridle.

When Wenzal unknowingly challenged me to work with the chestnut mare, I don't think he realized he had spoken to my hidden inner little girl, the one who had always begged for a horse of her own.

If I thought working with Chico was tough, she proved much harder in earning her trust. Wenzal had been right. This mare had been much more than just mistreated and ridden poorly.

There were days I would grab my halter out of the back of my car and walk out to the pasture to get her but spent more time chasing her than I actually did working with her in the round pen.

One day, I finally dropped the rope halter at the gate, picked up my blue bucket, and walked in to the mares' pasture. This time, with out an agenda except to spend time with her and her friends.

And from that day on, our partnership changed. I don't want to give too much away because I hope to write many more stories than just this one about this amazing horse. But the day she and I met couldn't have been better timed.

Her name is Viva, the spanish word for Life. 

When I met her, she had nothing of it left in her eyes. And neither did I.

But between the two of us, we eventually found out what it meant to live again, and taught each other how to live it to the fullest.

A Foreign Concept

   There's such an emphasis, still, on being married by a certain age. Especially if you're a female and approaching thirty.  I was visiting with my new therapist here in So Cal a few days ago. And she noted, "You really don't like the idea of marriage."

   It's true. But today we discussed it to a greater length. I didn't grow up in a family where marriage was modeled for me.

   "It'd be nice to have someone to help take care of me. I mean, I'm kind of a handful. I need someone to remind me to eat, to take care of laundry, to rest."

   "So, you need an assistant." My therapist and I chuckled after I thought about that for a moment.

  But I sighed in relief. Relief in the thought that it's ok that I'm not married. It's ok that it's still a foreign concept to me at the age of 28.

  I'm constantly asking people why they got married, if it was worth it, and how they've managed to stay together for so long. And I've always wondered why I ask these questions. But it makes sense now. For me, it's like I'm a five year old asking why the sky is blue. Most people wonder why the child is asking the question in the first place.

  After thoroughly pondering these ideas today, I realized, I'm content like I am. I wouldn't mind being the new definition of a 21st woman who loves life regardless of her relationship status.

  So if marriage is a foreign concept to you, cheers.

If you're in a wonderful or half wonderful marriage, sweet, more power to you.

If you're hating your life...ask yourself if it's because of unmet expectations or those placed on you by other people or society.