Patience isn’t something in my blood. I was the kid who rushed through the bookwork because it was boring and the same kid who quit basketball because perfecting my shot didn’t come with immediate results. Waiting was not a game I liked to play and anyone who tried to teach me patience failed miserably. If I wasn’t immediately entertained or getting the results I wanted, I didn’t see the point to trying.
I first rode a horse at age three and to my mother’s surprise, I was willing to sit in that tiny western saddle for a an hour. In fact, when the time was up, she practically had to pry me from it. However, controlling a fully grown horse on my own proved to do little to ease my impatience. With every mistake I or the horse made, I could feel my frustration gang up on me. I’ve always loved horses and wish that I could claim I was a natural horsewoman. Too bad I can’t.
Fourteen years and three horses later, I found a rambunctious three-year-old horse in my possession. After doing a few finishing training touches on the eight year old I purchased earlier that year, I assumed I could conquer the world. If not that, at least conquer a young horse. I didn’t understand why my mother or my trainer allowed me to purchase three-year-old unbroke horse, knowing how impatient I was. Then again, I was too engaged in thoughts of my new horse to care about much else.
I’ll admit I knew training a horse was going to be tough. But skilled as I am, in both riding and understanding horses, I figured it would turn out to be easier than most people claimed. Two days passed by me with flying colors – until day three hit me. Lunge whip and rope halter in hand, I glanced up at my little dun horse with frustration. It was something as simple as lunging and he wouldn’t budge. Needless to say, I walked away from the barn on that third day with anger on my mind, tears in my eyes, and defeat in my heart.
“He’s going to teach you to have patience, Emily. And you’re not going to like it at first.” I remember trying to block out the words of my trainer but those words were tattooed in my mind.
As I returned to the barn the proceeding day, I relieved my frustrations from the earlier day. I tried a new route, a more patient one. With my calm attitude and easy-going actions, my horse wanted to listen to what I was telling him. I offered him a smile at the end of our lesson, granting him a pat on the neck and kiss on the muzzle. It wasn’t his actions that pleased me – it was my own. Patience had sought me out.
Horses have taught me what no teacher, parent, or peer ever could – to have patience. The truth is, I’ve been studying horses every day of my life. Attending college is a way of making my studies official. I will become apart of the horse training industry because horses are the only ones who can tame me.