Barn Work

Though I work with horses at least five days a week, it's not so often that I actually do "barn work" - cleaning stalls, sweeping aisles, dropping grain and refilling water buckets. For the past several years, I've been fortunate to teach at EAAT facilities where this work is done by paid barn staff, who are assisted by wonderful volunteers. Most of the time, I show up as this work is being finished, and teach.

However, this weekend, a friend is out of town and asked if I'd feed her horses and tend her barn. Horse care is hard work (I don't want to downplay that!) and doing it well requires knowledge, training and skill. Caring for my friend's horses this weekend, I have been reminded there are also many pleasures of barn work.

There is something rewarding about being the first person in the barn in the morning, the horses waking up to your footfalls, beginning to nicker or paw for their feed. There is something rhythmic about scooping and dropping grain, then going about the tasks of removing blankets, dressing turn out boots, fly-spraying. There is the slight adrenaline rush of turning out very large and energetic animals who are especially eager to greet a still-damp pasture on a quiet, sunny morning.

Finally, there is definitely something meditative about cleaning stalls - the slow and careful act of removing piles and pieces of manure, sweeping up the pee spot, spreading the bedding. It is a great time for thinking: just enough physicality to distract you from your problems, not so physically difficult as to be unpleasant. There is the wonderful smell of barn dust, settling over your hair and clothing.

Of course, I recognize that this is the glorified version of morning barn work. I don't do it often, so it feels special and fun. But I was grateful to be reminded of the pleasures of being in a barn and not asking the horses to work. Just taking care of them, appreciating and hopefully meeting their needs. I've missed that! 

A Look Back...

In Quiet: The Power of the Introvert in a World that Can't Stop Talking, author Susan Cain claims that to discover your larger purpose in life, you should "...think back to what you loved to do when you were a child."  About five years ago, I went through significant career change, and my therapist also asked: "What did you love best when you were a child or adolescent?"  My answer: horses, horses, horses! 

I recently went through some old pictures, and realized I was destined from a very young age to become a horseback riding instructor.  Here they are!

(1) That's me leading (age 13), Kris riding.  I like how Kris is smiling at the camera, but I am completely focused on Sudora (our first horse).  I also like my jeans (where did those come from???) and the fact I'm wearing my helmet - ready to hop on at any moment if needed!   

 

(2) One year later! Sudora and I are at the Southern Rhode Island 4-H Horse Show.  You can see how unlike in the first picture, where I am racing to keep up with Sudora, here she is focused on me and walking in step with me. This concept - keeping a horse attuned through the use of intention, specific body language and personal energy- is the essential skill that we train Volunteer Horse Handlers in therapeutic riding/ EAAT. Somewhere between age 13 and age 14, I learned it well - from my spunky Morgan mare Sudora. She was a great teacher and it's an important skill to have when working with horses (maybe the most important)!

 

(3) This is my first official riding student - MH - on our wonderful Quarter Horse cross gelding, Al (Yes, it was the mid-90s and yes, Al was short for Aladdin... our "diamond in the rough"... making this the first and last time I will name a horse after a Disney character).  MH went to many shows with us and rode in the Lead Line division, winning blue more than once. (I'm proud to say she was often the only competitor who could post! Plus, what a cute pair they were!) That's me leading - not sure if you can see my face clearly enough to realize how seriously I was taking her (our?) success.  But little MH looks pretty serious, too!
 

So, in my case anyway, Susan Cain's advice proved true.  I loved horses as a young teen, and as an adult I become unhappy if I have to go even a few days without being around them. Cain lists two other principles for finding one's important life projects: (1)"pay attention to the work you gravitate towards" and (2)"pay attention to what you envy." Although I only read Cain's book recently, I see how these concepts were also relevant when I was exploring what I most wanted to do with my professional life. 

Notes from Becker's "a good and perfect gift"

This rainy week, I read (and loved!) Amy Julia Becker's memoir a good and perfect gift: Faith, Expectations and a Little Girl Named Penny (Bethany House, 2011). Becker writes honestly and poignantly about the life-altering experience of first time motherhood, made more complex when just after delivery, she learns her newborn, Penny, has Down syndrome.

Becker's reflections on the diagnosis and on parenting a child with special needs were eye-opening to me, even though I spend lots of time interacting with people with special needs and their families! For parents, the experience of having a child with special needs is surely as unique as their individual children; however, I'm so grateful for the general insight I gained from reading Becker's sensitive, honest portrayal of parenting her daughter. I think it brought me a shade closer to understanding, a deeper empathy and heightened awareness of parenting in general and specifically of children with special needs.

Two of my favorite points from Becker's text:

• "Can she [Penny] live a full life without ever solving a quadratic equation? Without ever reading Dostoyevsky? I'm pretty sure she can. Can I live a full life without learning to cherish and welcome those in this world who are different from me? I'm pretty sure I can't." (123)
• I attended a conference where we heard a child development specialist speak about "responsive parenting." He said most parents of kids with disabilities focused on their child's weaknesses. Instead we should try to identify Penny's strengths and help her grow into those strengths... [this way] we would recognize how capable she really was." (158)

In an identifiable voice, Becker also discusses the very nature of special needs diagnoses and how damaging 'scientific' understanding of limitations imposed by diagnoses can be. A talented narrator, Becker lets the reader get to know her wonderful, charming, intelligent daughter so personally that it breaks preconceptions about Down syndrome, doing for the reader on the page what working with individuals with special needs has done for me in person.

It's such a strange, humbling feeling to realize that one has imposed limits on someone because of preconceived notions related to a disability: one feels so foolish but also so very pleasantly surprised. I have experienced this as a teacher for people with special needs (and am glad to say it has broadened my heart, mind and awareness!). Becker presents this experience (of being pleasantly surprised and learning from it!) from the perspective of a parent, and it's a viewpoint so personal and intimate that one feels honored to be included as a reader.

Fair warning, Amy Julia Becker writes from a decidedly Christian perspective (and Bethany House is a Christian publisher). However, while Becker's faith is on every page, I never found it stifling or overbearing, despite being of a more "generic" spiritual persuasion myself at this time. Becker is down-to-earth and comfortable in her spirituality: it is central to her life and she shares it as open-heartedly as she does her experience of being Penny's mom. I have a feeling she would say the two are inseparable. 

A wonderful read, especially for anyone who loves, teaches or cares for a person with special needs and abilities!