Horse Trail Chicks

Kerrie and I saw Lyle Lovett in concert last weekend with several other horse-friends and family. We all got very excited and sang along when he sang “If I Had a Boat.” If you are not familiar with this song, the chorus goes:

And if I had a boat
I’d go out on the ocean
And if I had a pony
I’d ride him on my boat
And we could all together
Go out on the ocean
I said me upon my pony on my boat

At the concert Lovett (who is a very accomplished horseman) explained that he always wanted to be a cowboy and to have a boat. He dedicated the song to a child he knew in the audience and said that the song was about achieving your dreams. It’s a whimsical, light-hearted song and when I hear it I get an image of him sitting on a horse in a very small boat, looking out at the horizon, smiling and feeling completely content.

Now that I have a horse of my own after 50 years of waiting, I feel this kind of contentment and believe that getting a horse is the cherry on top of all the good fortune I have had in my life. I have traveled to and lived in various places in the world, including many where people don’t even have clean water or a safe roof over their heads. By simply being born into a white, middle class, American family, I am incredibly fortunate and have had almost unfettered access to the good things in life – education, a great job, travel, recreation, social opportunities, family, and a sense of safety and security. Sure, I’ve suffered trauma and loss and experienced struggles, but overall I have had far more good fortune than bad.

I used to take this for granted. But since getting my horse, Tupelo Honey, three years ago, I feel like any more good fortune that comes my way will be icing on the cake. Having a relationship with a horse is just such a beautiful thing, having barn buddies and riding friends is awesome, and galloping out on the trail is pure joy.

This idyll could end at any time. My horse could get injured or die, I could get injured or die, I could lose my job, the planet could shrivel up and die in the heat. I have no illusions that what I now have will go on forever. This makes it all the more precious and every day that I go to the barn and see my horse out in the pasture or peeking around his stall door my face lights up and I think “you are still here! Yay!”

We hear a lot about gratitude and we know we should have more of it. For the first time in my life I feel genuine gratitude, not the manufactured kind I used to feel out of guilt. Gratitude can make our troubles vanish – if not the troubles themselves, at least the emotional suffering we experience when things don’t go our way. I want to find more ways to integrate gratitude into my daily life so I can be a kinder, calmer, less whiny, and happier person. Tupelo is helping me do that.

Every time my friends and I take our horses on the ferry across Lake Champlain to ride at Blueberry Hill or Otter Creek, New York, I hear Lyle Lovett’s song in my head. I might not be on my pony and it might not be my boat and we are not on the ocean, but I am with my pony and we are all together on a boat, on our way to have about much fun as we can have, and that truly is living the dream.

Happy trails!

Monica