100th Post -- and time to reflect

It's nearly a year to the day that I started this blog. Actually it's been 368 days. It seems a bit surreal. For one thing, I have never, ever, ever been able to keep up with a journal. Generally, I think they jinx my life so at the first sign of detriment I stop...evident by a stack of half-started paper journals under my bed and a handful of blogs under construction. Truthfully, I never thought I would keep up with it outside of my superstitions. I get distracted easily, involving myself in various projects to fill as much of my spare time as possible. But, over the last year, I started to feel a real sense of accomplishment from writing here, collecting friends and readers along the way, and discovering something truly satisfying about the ability to look back the last year chronicled. While I know my writing skills are sub par (the result of too much art school), I feel like what I type here comes from the heart, and I consider this space quite sacred. I've found myself touched and inspired by your blogs and that alone keeps me coming back, painstakingly typing out my thoughts and feelings.



Over the last year I have struggled with what kind of angle the blog should take. Should I write about my equine affairs strictly or dabble in other areas of my life? Who would care? Would I even develop a following? And, if I did, how could I keep them interested in what I have to say (or rather, complain about). Ultimately, it took a shape of it's own, stretching beyond my horse related adventures and into many other aspects of my life. I worry that sometimes, it's too personal, or just a little self indulgent. Is it completely obvious yet that I am known clinically as an anxious/worrier? Perhaps that's why I feel myself drawn to horses of a similar description.

So, let's recap...A little over a year ago, Kiki came into my life, just as suddenly as she left it. Unexpected and dramatically, she, after 20 years of being around horses, taught me something new every single time I was around her. She helped me understand how to be patient and firm and to understand how to trust, one day at a time. A few years ago, I could not have predicted that I would be on my second lease horse today...I though for sure that riding here and there would be enough to satisfy me (it wasn't). I started working with a trainer again. I thought about competing. I took a few horse vacations. I helped train a green horse and now, I have a new horse to focus my attention on.

With all of this time to think about the last year of my life, one thing seems to shine through. It's not ANY horse that makes me happy...it's the ones that inspire me. As cheesy as that may sound, it's the truth. I have access to ride pretty much all the time, but it doesn't satisfy me. Much like personal life, I cannot simply date someone for the sake of having company, I need to feel like that person (or horse) is helping me to become a better version of myself. Kiki did that for me. She turned me into a better horse woman. I already know that Kazi will have a profound influence on me too.

I know that I am happiest in my life when I feel inspired. I am a multi-faceted individual who struggles to balance the many things I feel passionately about. On top of that, I feel burdened with a sense of responsibility to be doing MORE. When I say more, I mean, doing something for the greater good. I spent much of my youth volunteering and advocating for a marginalized population. In college I helped run an outreach program using polaroid cameras at a residential drug/alcohol treatment center. I started organizing a similar program here in Philadelphia a few years ago, but was met with so much political red tape it fizzled out. Finally, I spent a year or so volunteering at an equine therapy center working with children who are physically and mentally disabled (*to date, the most satisfying volunteer work I've done). This experience helped kick start my passion for horses again, that alone, makes me truly grateful. It was only a few months after I took a break from the therapy center that my focus became more centered around riding (and perhaps myself too). I could feel myself getting burned out at the therapy center due to the political stress surrounding a nonprofit. It was sad really, a fantastic organization run by a bunch of non-horse people who ultimately made decisions on the horses behalf. It all became too much for me to handle for awhile. I expressed my concerns to the director (who was an awesome woman) and told her I would be taking a break. Hopefully, I can start back there again soon -- there's a new equine director and barn manager and the horses seem to be doing well again.

So many good things have happened in the last year and I cannot really complain, however, my life does not feel balanced. There was a moment, brief and fleeting where everything felt like it made sense to me. A moment when my eyes were open so wide, I felt as though everything became clear again. Parts of myself that had been locked away for years were suddenly released and I had felt more like me than I ever had before. It made me brave again. This moment occurred just a few months into my journey with Kiki and it was just what I needed to help strengthen who I was to deal with a mare that was so completely sure of herself. In this moment, I felt inspired again...much like I did when I first realized that I was meant to be a photographer. I found myself exploring new places, having adventures, and using every moment thoughtfully. If I wasn't at the farm, I was reading and researching how to be a better horsewoman for Kiki. If I wasn't doing that, I was out discovering the world around me again (camera in hand). I started taking polaroids again, dusted off my old toy cameras and loaded them up with expired film, and hit the road. I stayed up late looking at and sharing my photography, scrapbooks, and little pieces of history. I got hardly any sleep, but I didn't need it...because nothing felt like this. I had energy bursting through my pores. I felt more like myself than I ever had.

This is a photo of me from that time...taken on a lake just a few weeks after my first real horse vacation. See that twinkle in my eye? Yea, I want that back.

this is my proof

And now...well...I feel like a shell of that person. I'd like to get that balance back. I have the horse to do it (even if he offers me a much different journey than Kiki) and I just need the right people around me now. For a long time, I thought it was beneficial to surround myself with people who were nothing like me, and while that may make for some interesting experiences, it doesn't satisfy a key part of my character. I want to be with someone who makes me want to be a better version of myself...and...I want to be that for someone else. I want to feel driven and excited about life, and more importantly my photography. It's (my photography) such a crucial part of who I am and I need to feel like I can share it with those around me.

So here's to the next 100 posts, and the next year. I hope that my personal life can be as fulfilling as my horse life. Stay tuned to hear stories about both and everything in between.

**ps. I do have an updated story about Kazi...involving spurs and forward movement and our first totally solo ride!