First, Do No Harm

Fitch's Corner, July 2012, walking to cross-country in the fog.

Last month after the GMHA 50, a friend told me something very wise.  I was eyeball-deep in analysis and plan of attack and she said things that were kind and compassionate and encouraging, and then she said: "...but sometimes the answer is to just hold still and not make any sudden moves."

Which I appreciated, and which runs completely counter to every instinct that I have.  My particular brand of control-freakiness manifests just about 100% as a desire to understand everything.  My coping mechanisms of choice are structure and preparation.  In the middle of whatever is happening, even if current events enter the realm of novelty, I am pretty laid-back and flexible!  But holding still and not making sudden moves is not my forte.  My forte is strategizing ALL the things.

(Speaking of novelty, have an unrelated link to a Radiolab story about chess, and specifically about the moment when a chess game becomes something utterly new. )

So it will probably not surprise you, dear reader, to hear that the first few weeks of Tucker's vacation were Very Stressful for me.

Because the thing of it was, there just was not a whole lot that I could plan for or practice towards.  I have my to-do list for his time off and for bringing him back into work, but other than popping him on the longe a couple of times a week in hopes of rebuilding his topline and a few minutes per visit invested in treating a mild case of thrush in his front feet?  There is just not much for me to do right now.

Saddle hunt is waiting on demo models and the end of Tuck's vacation and on the checks for my consigned saddles to come in.  Hoof boots are also waiting for those checks as well as for a couple of trim cycles in case his feet change in size.  I'm planning to have our lameness guy take a look at his hind legs -- Tuck is not lame, but if his hocks need attention I'd rather do that before the start of next ride season instead of having to mess with it halfway through, and I have long suspected he has a bit of a stifle thing, mostly masked by his level of fitness, but the more I think about the end of our 50 attempt and the more I watch him go, the more I'd like our vet to at least humor me by taking a hard look at that joint -- but I want him back in work first so I have a read on his current baseline.  And while I am engaging in a quiet but sustained freakout re: how to condition him for next season (probably another post pending about this!), that's not a decision that needs to get made right now; it just makes more sense to put him back under saddle (or no-saddle, as case may be) and do the initial long walking hacks that I know will be the start of whatever program and then see what I have, and go from there.

So lots of stuff that I want to Get Done Already so that I Know What We Are Doing and can have a nice soothing plan to modify ad infinitum or else abandon and replace almost immediately!

But funny thing: I keep thinking back, when I feel all in limbo, to what my friend said about just holding still, and somewhere in these last couple of weeks that advice has started to feel every bit as comforting as my usual activity.

There's been a fair bit of turmoil in my offline life recently (counting my old dog, we're now up to three deaths in the family in the last month and I most sincerely hope that we can stop counting there) and there's considerable uncertainty in the near future (exciting uncertainty! but still uncertainty) and maybe that's amplifying the relief of having some physical space and some head space as well in which I can put action and decision on hold and just kind of, for a little while, be still.

Salisbury Beach for the MSPCA Horses Helping Horses Beach Ride, October 2102, because apparently my visual of Zen is overexposed and/or unclear photography!