Destiny was the 1300-pound, beautiful, white, horse that took me out on a 90-minute rendezvous this past Tuesday afternoon. Ella and Henry had gifted this excursion to me for Christmas and it was near its expiration date. I am so grateful I did not let this opportunity pass me by. Who knew I’d actually learn something?
HERE ARE 5 LIFE LESSONS FROM DESTINY'S SADDLE:
Lesson 1: This was more of a reminder that big is beautiful and strong is sexy. My Princess Destiny was large, in charge, and so confident in that behemoth frame of hers that she left nobody wondering who was boss. At no point did she hang her head in shame or give me an apologetic look of “I sure wish I hadn’t eaten that bag of carrots earlier. Now look at me all bloated and shit!” Instead she welcomed a couple more hundred pounds on her back and waited patiently for me to settle in. She never buckled under the pressure and she certainly wasn’t worried about whether her muscles made her booty look too big. Destiny was the epitome of poise and certainty; a considerable suggestion to never mistake a full girl for a fragile one.
Lesson 2: Energy is everything. If my words are not in alignment with who I am and how I show up in the world, what I say means absolutely nothing. Destiny let me know early on that I either need to walk my talk (or ride it in this instance) or shut the hell up and get my spirit in check.
This was just my second time on a horse and I was panicked. They are alluring creatures and always a pleasure to admire from a distance, but riding one was a whole new experience that I felt unprepared for. I kept thinking “one wrong move and you can slide right off the saddle, hit your head on a rock, be bitten by a Cobra, and left to die out here. Why did you initial the option to decline a helmet, you asshole? How well is your hair going to hold up in a coffin?” However when Pam, poised up on her stallion, Doc., acting all prissy like she’d been on this rodeo before, asked me how I was doing, I kicked it like a cool, New York, cucumber. “Babe, I got this. Please. I was born to ride!” (Because every chic “born to ride” wears a Mets cap and sweats for 15 minutes in an attempt to put her boots on…and pull them off.)
Destiny was every bit as smart as she was enormous. She picked up on the intensity I felt inside and didn’t seem to initially enjoy my company as was evidenced by her jittery disposition and her overly exaggerated headshakes every time a fly would land on her. I swear she wanted me to fall off, but, when I refused, she just turned and stared at me as if to say “are you going to trust me or not because if not, this is going to be a painful jaunt for both of us.”
Whatever she did with that intense glare, it worked. I admitted fear, took a deep breath, settled down and reminded myself that our guide, and Destiny, were both professionals. They were not going to let anything happen to me. And they didn’t. Destiny poked along so relaxed that I thought she was going to stop for a nap, and I got to enjoy the quiet, serene, trail.
Lesson: 3: Apparently I got too comfortable which brought me back to the reoccurring theme in my life. Be present. If I’m not, Destiny will lead me to a fresh pool of piss just to see if I’m paying attention.
Lesson 4: When telling the Universe what you want be VERY specific. If I was granted a do-over, instead of asking for a horse that was “calm, cool, collected and easy on beginners”, I’d ask for one that was “calm, cool, collected, easy on beginners, can beat a turtle in a race, is younger than 75, doesn’t have a rank ass chock full of gas, and one that doesn’t stop to shit every 10 minutes.” If you ask for very little, you will receive very little. Ask for the world, and well…I guess you get the world? Fuck if I know but that’s how it seems it should work.
Lesson 5: Boy shorts are better than bikini briefs. I actually was convinced that I had gone commando until I was assisted off the horse. After 3 minutes of forcing myself to stand upright, I noticed that something felt, how should I say…? Out of place? I tried to discreetly lodge a finger or three up my ass to search for any hint of cotton that I could find to pull my underwear back into my jeans where they belonged, but this had proved to be a complete and utter failure. I don’t know many tour guides who would turn down a tip but I learned that it does happen.
I can’t wait to see what Destiny has in store for me next time!