Today was one of those days when our daughter definitely needed a few extra hands. One child had jiu jitsu classes and the other had riding lessons – at the overlapping times. Normally their other grandmother is available to help transport, but today she had a prior commitment.
It wasn’t a difficult fix. Our daughter and I went to the riding lessons while King attended the jiu jitsu class.
For those who don’t know me, I spent 10 years hauling our daughter and her horse to horse shows –every weekend from May through October. We seldom missed a show.
I grew up with horses. When our daughter first indicated she liked horses many, many years ago, I told her we would see what we could do.
I liked to ride. I spent hours and hours exploring the Allegan State Game Area from the back of a horse. I showed said horse exactly twice a year – at 4-H Field Day in August and again in September at the Allegan County Fair. It never occurred to me if we got our daughter a horse she might take to the show ring. But she did.
Now one of her sons is interested in horses. He appears to have the same natural ability his mother had. But apparently the horse world we knew is a changed world. Our daughter has been away from it for more than 10 years. In that 10 years, according to the woman giving lessons, the show world has changed and small open shows (or training shows as apparently they are called in California) have gone away, replaced by the breed-specific shows where only the very wealthy can afford to compete.
We are talking about the uber wealthy – those who can afford trainers and $40,000 horses with all the top-end tack to go with it. Sigh. So it goes. (And I may be exaggerating — but only a little).
I had forgotten those days — mostly, anyway. They are but a distant memory, and even writing about them doesn’t really bring to the forefront of what it was like. There is no way to explain it. What we were told has become the norm, we could observe it when we dipped our toes into the breed shows:
Win at all cost because cost is nothing. If you lose it’s the trainer’s fault, or the horse’s fault, or the judge didn’t like the color of your shirt…
It’s a fairly endless list. I recall overhearing one young equestrian tell a friend, “I probably could have won the class, but my trainer gave me the wrong pattern.”
It’s not competition for the sake of competition (equestrian wise) it’s “let he with the most money, who can buy the best trainer, the best groom, the best horse … win.”
When we observed this many years ago we made fun of it. I recall a horse show in Detroit where we put our daughter’s friend in the saddle in the warm-up ring, dangled a cigarette from her mouth, coached her on how to give that “I’m really bored look, but they are paying me big bucks so I’ll put forth a little bit of effort” look and had her ride around the ring a few times. We thought it was hilarious, unfortunately those around us didn’t get the dig. It was the norm.
It smacks me in the face every time I realize, yet again, much of society is that same way.
More.
Best.
Most expensive.
Latest gadget.
Newest phone.
I realized the other day I don’t want more, or the newest, or the best. I want less – less stress, less rushing, less worry, less noise.
In fact, for the first time in probably years I ventured into a department store. I looked at all the sparkly “things” available for purchase.
When I say “looked at” I actually mean, saw it as I walked past it on my way to the bedding department. (Still gotta have blankets, right)? None of it interested me. Not the sparkle, not the shine… none of it. If I had a house it would be more stuff to dust. Living in a travel trailer I’d have to glue new acquisitions to the ceiling.
I think King and I have found a way of life that works for us. His “more” is golf. My “more” is creating things and then giving it away so the clutter can accumulate in someone else’s home.
In the run-up to Christmas, I wish you all health, happiness and … less.
