Parental Guidance

I don’t see my parents as much as I should and as much as I would like. I was the prodigal son who ran away to America but forgot to come home. Romance stole my heart and led me across the sea on my great adventure. Despite this crazy journeying my parents were close to me all the time. They have shaped how I live every aspect of my life and more importantly every moment with horses. My early experiences of horses were nurtured by my mother, one of my fondest and indeed youngest memories is walking as a child with my mother and stopping off to greet two old grey mares in a field nearby our house. She stood by and didn’t question my weird fascination with these wondrous creatures despite how far flung they were from our reality of life. Years later investing time to come and watch me ride every single day, rain or shine. She bought me my first ever dressage saddle. I still have it, it represents a belief in me I didn’t always have for myself. It represents a generosity of spirit in times that were often sparse. Simple but profound gestures that I work hard to remember in my training and teaching. Turn up every day and push through. Be dedicated in showing up for your horse and your riders. Be generous with what you have, show up in spirit for every horse no matter the circumstances, every rider no matter their resources.

My father travels with me sometimes closer even still, when I look down at my hands, whether applauding life or wringing in contemplation I see his hands. As a child I was often relegated to his carpentry workshop being the youngest and in need to supervision from trouble. He doesn’t know it but his hands fascinated me, watching him sketch with a fluidity and detail in whatever he was designing and working on. Watching his hands masterfully shaping a piece of timber, fashioning furniture with care and thought. Again such simple moments but I remember them soulfully as my hands pick up the reins on my horse. Not many people know it’s why I often don’t warm up my horse with gloves, so I can touch and feel for the detail. Why I spend so long when I’m grooming, swimming my palms over the muscles of my horses, feeling for how they are shaping and building. I may not have inherited his skill for beautiful cabinet making but I insist for myself that my hands make contact with what I do, for detail and for beauty. 

Maybe someday I’ll find a way to tell my parents all this but for now we content ourselves as good Irish non verbal folk with subtle smiles of yes my horses are going well. While I know they’re going well with my parents dedication, their spirit of generosity, their detail and their care.