Getting to know your new horse is quite an adventure. You bring that baby home with bright expectations and butterflies in your stomach. Full of valleys and mountaintops (with a few scenic pastures and blind cliffs thrown in), a new horse purchase has the power to connect and inspire you one moment, while leaving you feeling alone or isolated the next. Sometimes I think that I have so much hope wrapped up in the future of this riding partnership that I examine each moment too closely (over-thinking at its finest!), missing the larger perspective necessary for a successful, joyful journey.

Pavarotti (Pavi) is a 16.1 coming 6-year-old Friesian/Thoroughbred cross who has only been with me for one week. He always comes to find me…<3

A week ago, I brought Pavarotti home. This fairly green, beautiful gelding was a champ during our 6+ hour drive across the mountains. Our home barn is a new place for me too, and the for the whole first week Pavi was cool as a cucumber. He followed me everywhere and snuggled sweetly as we walked the property each day.

On the first day of week two I was at the barn with Pavi. Although we aren't in training yet, I typically walk him around the property and groom him. Gone was his chill demeanor. Pavi was AMPED. He had too much energy for his little (big) body to handle, jumped at each new sound, and tried to play with me like he used to play in his herd. He ended up biting the lead rope over and over again while attempting to prance around me since trying to bite other things wasn’t working for him. It progressed from there...and not in ways that were totally inspiring. :/ Overall the experience was pretty tense and left me feeling unsure, frustrated, and disappointed in myself since one of my greatest concerns is that I might mishandle him.

Perhaps it’s because things are just crazy in our world right now, or maybe it is because I want so badly for us to succeed that each hiccup seems like a bigger deal than it should be. Either way, I threw a little pity party for myself when I climbed back into my truck that afternoon. It was an ugly and beautifully cleansing cry-fest that left me with red eyes and a tender heart. Sometimes it's just like that. We tend to keep perspective-narrowing worries and emotions inside, finding ourselves surprised when the dam breaks.

The recent outbreak of Covid-19 is causing unbelievable changes in our world today. It is even affecting the training schedule for Pavi ( as in, there is none right now). Loitering around this unsettling place isn’t the way I wanted to begin our partnership, yet here we are. I need to accept what is and move forward with a new perspective forged through this time of disquiet. Even though the chaos caused by Covid 19 has left us all in limbo, God is using it to grow me. An expanded and hopeful perspective is developing, even though it is not coming in a way I would anticipate or desire.

Pavi is a good (and super cute) boy who is doing remarkably well with all of the big changes that have happened to him the past few months. He needs time to settle in and, I guess, I do too.

The big thing about getting to know your new horse, I'm learning, is that you get to know yourself in a new way too. I don't like that topsy-turvy, unsettled feeling, but embracing the learning curve is required to grow. Above all, I want us to learn together. This means I must have a perspective that appreciates each moment and valuing it as a necessary step in the journey.

In the end, I’m finding that topsy-turvey growth is what I would probably choose anyway. ♥️

Pavi’s cute baby face! Also, notice that he is looking at the herd ;)