Lucy - My Big, Dark Horse

In late 2020, I did something you are not supposed to do.

I bought a big, three-year-old, mega-athletic Dutch Warmblood named Lucy. She was my first horse.

I’m not insane (at least not completely). I’ve been riding since I was seven years old, had leased a horse in the past, and was riding consistently in a lesson program, jumping 3’ fences when I bought Lucy. I also had trainer support and a plan for how to develop this incredible animal. Or so I thought.

Nothing went the way I thought it would. It went both awfully wrong and then unimaginably right. I’m not using the word “unimaginably” as hyperbole. I literally mean I could not have imagined where this decision - this risk - would lead me.

The difference between taking action and not taking action is not small.

Taking small actions, often, will take you through your list of dreams faster than you think is possible.

Not taking action - or even postponing action - is a good way to die with your dreams still inside you.

There were years of my life where I would have insisted I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do, where I struggled to sleep, spent many hours in anxious overwhelm - trying to figure out how to be “good” or “right.”

But put me outside with a horse - yesterday, today, or tomorrow - and I will lose all self-consciousness, forget time exists, laugh spontaneously, and walk away with a nervous system deeply steeped in quiet and ease.

I was terrified when I bought Lucy. I bought her during COVID off of videos and a prepurchase exam from a seller and vet I didn’t know. She was $28,000 and a huge, athletic, young horse. I was concerned about how to manage paying for her care and also having enough time to spend with her. I was worried I wasn’t a good enough rider to be worthy of her. I wasn’t even sure, at the most basic level, that I deserved to have what I wanted, even if it was within my means to get it.

I just knew that I wanted her. I knew that, regardless of any misgivings, any ideas about what I “should” do, any opinions from others - I simply couldn’t wipe the shit-eating grin off my face when I thought of bringing her home.

So I did.

And it happened like dominoes from there.

• I learned ground skills, horsemanship, and rose to a new level as a rider because I had to.
• I bought my own property because Lucy got ulcers from the feeding, training, and travel schedule I had her on while boarding her.
• I got another horse to keep her company.
• I sought out trainers that had the talent and specialized expertise to help me through the behavior issues that persisted after the ulcers.
• I took a one-year (and counting) sabbatical from working in the tech industry to do intensive horse development and problem-solving training.
• I partnered on development horses with an amazing trainer I met.
• As I sit here writing this, I have six horses on my property - all of which I train - including a foal who was born on my property under my care.

You have a dream. You can’t see how to do it right now - how it’s even possible, let alone practical.

You don’t have to know yet. It’s so easy to get hung up on “how.” “How” is not your job. Your job is to recognize joy, excitement, and magnetic draw when it appears inside of you. Just turn towards it. Take one, small risk. Just admit what you want - just to yourself.

You’ve probably been doing what you’re supposed to do. What do you want?