I am riding Minnie and I realise how much I have forgotten during the time it took for her tendon to heal. Nearly a year and a half, a long time. I forgot what her stride feels like, how much upward movement there is and how bouncy that feels. I forgot about the incredible amount of nervous energy I have underneath me and how spooky Minnie really is. Minnie’s world is a frightening place and she reacts strongly to perceived danger. “Pirouette” would have been a great name for her, she is good at those.
I have also forgotten how easy it is for me to ride her. We are so well suited. I ride Minnie and she is constantly letting me know how she is feeling. I can respond to Minnie’s nervousness with calm and to her anxiety with reassurance. In turn, Minnie finds the knots in my body and eases them out with the rhythm of her own body.
I ride Minnie and she is like a coiled spring. The green smell of grass growing and leaves opening, the breeze lifting her mane, I can feel her need to run in the core of my own body. “Not yet” I tell her, “not yet” and Minnie settles into a powerful walk. As her body moves mine, I feel the accumulated tension of the week drain away, flowing down her legs into the earth, and my breathing slows in rhythm with hers.
Riding Minnie. It’s about balance and harmony. Like a dance. A Minuet.