Getting Back Up on the Horse(s)

     photo credit: Ree Drummond aka The Pioneer Woman

by Sarah

For some reason, I have always enjoyed the phrase and the metaphor, "Get back up on the horse..." as a metaphor for responding to life's many let downs, disappointments or defeats. It's simple imagry that evokes strength, courage, determination, and hope for a better outcome next time. Rest assured that whenever there is any kind of "getting back on a horse," there are sure to be nervous hearts beating, dust flying and shakey legs involved. Climbing back up onto that "horse" flies in the face of fear, while giving defeat and disappointment a swift kick in the booty....but the reality of actually doing this does not mean that it's not scary.

Learning Luke's diagnosis back in August, threw me off of several "horses" in my life that I'd been riding up until that day.  Horses with beautiful names like "Hope," "Happiness," "Normal Mom," and "Dreams Coming True" to name but a few.  Upon learning that our time with Luke would not be how we dreamed, I was forced to saddle up and try and learn to ride and wrangle some new unknown, scarier steeds.  "Horses" with names like, "Sadness,"  "Lightening Strike," "Shattered Dreams," "Nightmare," "Brokenhearted," " Sweet Angel Baby" and of course, "Grief."  Truth be told, I didn't want to ride ANY of them and it has been extremely difficult surviving the past several months of life spent in their company.  While of course, some parts of this trail have been amazingly beautiful, most of it has been truly rugged and difficult terrain. Needless to say, these "horses" have not been easily broken and I remain mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted at my efforts to simply stay in the saddle.  But more difficult than the exhaustion, has been the bruising and breaking of my confidence and hopes as I have merely struggled to survive without getting trampled.

      Photo by: Ree Drummond aka The Pioneer Woman

This trail has been difficult, often brutal and long.  However, I am somehow now outside of a new corral of rested "horses."  This corral is bursting with wild beauties whose specific purpose I know is to carry me forward down this path towards the horizon...towards my hope, towards my healing and towards happiness again.  While I do not have a map or know how we will get there, I have to trust that these "horses" who are familiar with this territory do.  I must simply saddle them and ride....and have faith that assuming I am able to stay in the saddle, that they will do the rest.  By choosing to "ride" them, I am choosing to turn towards this new horizon in my life- one I never imagined I'd be facing - and actually take steps forward into the unknown.

I'm working on becoming grateful for these new "rides" of mine for I know they will help me to arrive at my destination faster than I could ever manage to get there on my own.  These horses have names like "Work," "Exercise," "Healthy Eating," "Socializing," "Blue Mondays," "Strength," "Facing My Fears," "Bravery," "Life Begins Anew" and the always elusive "horse" named "Joy."  All of these "horses" are difficult for me to ride for any prolonged length of time right now but "Joy" is perhaps the most difficult as she bucks me off within seconds.   I'm not a cowgirl, and I'm certain that I will continue to be thrown off these new "horses" in the hours, days, weeks and months ahead, but I ride now in honor of my son's memory and because of him, each time I hit the ground, I will be determined to get back up on the "horse," no matter how diffiicult that may be, and keep riding toward that horizon...watching and waiting for the sunrise.

                   Photo by: Ree Drummond aka The Pioneer Woman