I have big fears, so I’m trying to learn to do thinks in spite of being afraid. I
can talk the talk, but I’m trying to walk the walk - or trot, as the case may
be.
Not long ago I was Christmasing in Cuba with my mother
Violet, sister Sue, and nephew Caleb. We took a break from being horizontal to do
a jeep tour up a mountain. Our adventure included visiting a farm (easy),
speed-boating (fun!), lunch (delicious) and horseback riding.
The horses were optional. Violet was one of the first to volunteer
no to go, opting instead for a golf cart ride with the Cuban cowboys. Caleb was
ready and willing. Sue and I however, were afraid. Years ago Sue had a bad
experience on horseback and was really nervous about getting back in the
saddle. I’m just a big fat hairy chicken, and don’t like to get into any
situation where I may potentially lose control.
Fear |
But assured that I would be just fine, I got up the horse. Feeling
shaky, I looked at the ground. It was a million miles away! I looked over at my sister, who was sitting on a horse of her own, and
she smiled nervously. If she could do it so could I.
Hope |
So we started walking. We had a few instructions on how to drive
our animals, but I was still really nervous that the horse would start running.
In my imagination he’d take off through the woods, and I’d get smacked in the
forehead by a low hanging branch, tossed onto the ground, trampled by the rest of the stampede, and run over by the golf cart.
But things went quite well. There were a few tense moments
when Jeri wondered off the beaten pack and onto the road, but I found that steering
him was easier than I thought. Sue had a moment where her horse started to frolic
in the grass, but within seconds a guide was coming to her rescue.
Reality (Jeri is on the left) |
(Alberta, on the other hand, was miserable. She looked like
a giant kid who was sitting on the horse at the mall, but didn’t have the 25
cents to make it actually move. To my delight her feet almost touched the
ground, and I was relaxed enough to have a silent evil chuckle on her behalf)
A couple of great things happened on this walk. Firstly, being
on a horse was Caleb’s favourite moment of the trip – and it’s always very cool
to see someone fall in love with something for the very first time. Secondly, my sister and I both managed to do something that scared us.
I'd managed to control the giant stallion - and not only did we have a most enjoyable time, but we looked smashing in our riding hats!
I'd managed to control the giant stallion - and not only did we have a most enjoyable time, but we looked smashing in our riding hats!
But here’s the thing. When I got home, my mom sent me some
photos she’d taken of us on horseback. My horse was no giant. Jeri was tiny! My fear had made him into the Trojan
horse, when he was just actually a tiny little creature. If he’d had a pink tail – he could have been in the toy store.
But fear makes things big. Bigger than they should be. So I'm trying to take a lesson from Jeri. In my big fat chicken head, the idea of riding seemed insurmountable. But in reality Jeri was just a nice horse and I was a little nervous. And in hindsight, I rode with ease, and he was just little pony.