Bucked Off Of Life?

I started riding horses as a child. I’ve always loved animals, horses in particular, and convinced my parents to take me to horse-riding classes for 1–2 summers. Fast forward 15+ years later and I’ve recently jumped back on the horse.

It’s been great relearning to ride, picking up new skills and building a deeper understanding of and connection with the horses. One thing that’s always been amazing to me is how much your body remembers from childhood; muscle memory is real.

I comfortably got back into a good trotting rhythm. And started to build confidence as I wearily began to move to the next, faster “run”: the canter. I could feel the nerves but also the excitement to master this next level of riding, and it felt great to be at that transition point.

Until… I got bucked off the horse. Literally. A few weeks ago, as I attempted to take the horse into canter, control his speed and manage my balance, the horse kicked up his hind legs and bucked me off his back. I pretty much flew to the ground, landing hard on my right side, as the horse continued to run off, seeming joyfully relieved of the burden of my weight and ineptitude.

There was the few moments of shock, the hesitation and “courage” to get back on the horse, the muscle pain that kicked in the next day (in my neck, arm, ribs, thigh, glutes and ankle on the right side) and the processing of what happened for the horse to do that to me. I felt slightly betrayed, given that I had patted him, said nice things to him and felt like we connected decently well… until he threw me off!

Which got me thinking.

It reminded me of times when it felt like I was being bucked off of life. And may have felt slightly betrayed by it. When things are going one way, and all of a sudden, you lose your footing and find yourself on the ground, wondering how you got there.

With the horse, I was pushing him forward but tightening my body and holding myself back. I was asking him to run ahead while pulling back on the reigns and not giving him room to give me what I was asking for. I was signaling for the next gait while afraid and unsure of my actually wanting it, for fear that I couldn’t handle it when he did start to canter. Or for fear of falling off, ironically.

Instead, I fell off because of that very fear and hesitation. Because I asked for one thing but acted on another. Because I wasn’t comfortable and tried to control too much, and because I didn’t really trust myself or the horse to make things go right.

When I asked where I went wrong, my trainer said, “The horse needs you to be strong, confident and commanding, and to ride comfortably in order for him to be able to run smoothly. If you’re giving him confusing signals, and are uncomfortably bumping along, he’d much rather throw you off than have to run with a confused, bouncing dead-weight on his back.”

Life is the same way. We’re thrown off course when there’s conflict within ourselves that hasn’t yet been resolved. We’re thrown off when we ask for something but hold back in fear of our desires actually being realized. We’re thrown off at the cusp of our next transition.

And I believe we’re thrown off for the very purpose of picking ourselves up, getting back on the horse and trying again. But trying differently. Figuring out what ‘differently’ means and giving ourselves permission to break from our patterns and try again. And building courage and clarity along the way.

We’re thrown off as an opportunity to connect with deeper truths, and to seek with greater sincerity and humility. And for the moments on the ground and the sense of betrayal to challenge us: “What do you really want? Do you even know? Are you ready to receive it? Have you created space for it? Are you going to act accordingly? Do you trust yourself to do your part and the Divine (or the world) to deliver?

And we’ll keep being thrown off, since it’s in that apparent nadir that we often find the insight and clarity needed to reach a new zenith.

And how insignificant does that fall seem when we finally get it right?