Hello Whining, My Old Friend

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I haven’t posted a good, solid whine in a while. Time to fix that. There have been so many happy posts lately, I didn’t want you to think the gloom had gone away.

Given that I was getting pony rides on Milton at the end of last year [I Ride Milton!], and we are now showing [Victory!], it’s going great. Given that I’ve had Milton for four years [Meet Milton], and we can’t do more than shuffle around at a trot [Maintaining Our Firm Grip On Last Place], not so great.

Rodney, ditto. Except we aren’t shipping anywhere [Dubious Future], and it’s been twice as long [The Cast Assembles].

I get impatient.

I’m not impatient because I think I deserve great things. Quite the opposite. I get impatient because I am disgusted with myself. I start to wonder if any amount of progress will make up for the time I have wasted.

If I had made better choices. If I had worked harder. If I had … (voices in my head go hypersonic).

Opportunities are strewn before me in gracious abundance. When I fail to capitalize on them, I have only myself to blame. From there, it is a short slide into the fen of frustration.

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

7 thoughts on “Hello Whining, My Old Friend

  1. I totally understand and I’ve been there. Lately I just try to focus on enjoying my time with the horses as much as I can and being present. There are so many things I wish I could do differently or better (if I had a time machine) but all I can do is my best going forward 🙂

  2. Hey, we’re riding the same wavelength, more or less. I dunno. I guess I got all caught up in the “dream it, be it” hype. Thought the amazing dance I had with previous horse would just keep on building with the next one, and the next, and so on and so forth. Back up about nine years and it never dawned on me that 3/4 (of what I thought) was great skill, maybe even talent, set sail when I buried her. They say a great horse is a hard act to follow, but I’m starting to think it’s impossible. I’d like to say I’m content with what previous horse and I had, but I still find myself reaching for that brass ring. And I miss a lot … in more ways than one.

    1. A great anything is a hard act to follow. Sometimes reaching for that brass ring is the only thing that keeps you going. Being content can lead to stagnation…unfortunately where I’m at right now. Not horses, can never ride/own again, but other stuff.

  3. “Beware IF.”
    I really, really like this. Concise. True.

    “do is my best going forward”
    Why is it easy to say this things to others but not to ourselves?

    Previous Horse and I never had the competitive success that I might have liked, so I never thought of myself as a brilliant rider because of him. Perhaps, I overestimated my ability to train an OTTB because of him? Either he was way easy or Milton is way hard. Hmmm. Never thought of it this way.

  4. My previous horse was young (7), but came to me with all the correct basics and buttons installed. Not that I knew what to do with them. (Cue the clueless, self-taught kid who grew up on a farm in an area when everyone rode backyard horses and we all thought we kicked ass.) Do you have any idea how often (today) I think, ‘if I only knew then, what I know now?’ Still, she was truly and honestly gifted. And certainly not just by my standards. Many who were far better at knowing these things than I, told me so. Often. And yes, I’ll shamefully admit that I thought her talent was at least partially due to MY brilliance and ability. It’s so easy to be naive and wrong at 34, but not so easy to fool yourself at 61. Did I overestimate my ability? You bet! Can I make up for that? Maybe. If I get enough time. But it’s sure as hell NOT going to be for lack of trying, dammit. 😉

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