I snapped my helmet and put one foot in the stirrup.
I froze for a moment wondering how my legs were going to pull this one off.
After a quick breath, I gripped the saddle and threw my other leg around the horse.
I propped and shifted until I was semi-comfortable.
I had done it.
For the first time ever, I was on the back of a horse and about to ride.
But how did I get here?
[not literally, but figuratively]
How did I get here?
The adventures in recovery far outweigh the adventures in active addiction for me.
Though both tell a tale of wild rides, I find that the adventures in recovery have various ends…or as I like to think, various beginnings as one comes to an end.
New interests; self discovery.
Wholeness when you already felt just that.
A feeling quite hard to describe; but wonderful to experience.
Learning to love so many things; it’s just that easy.
I never knew how easy.
My active addiction adventures were far different.
Guilt, fear, terror, shame, loneliness, darkness, pain.
There was nothing unique about each time.
Different details, yes, but the ending was the same and all consuming.
Now I find myself at Equine Therapy.
Something I knew nothing about.
In fact, if I had been introduced prior, I would have told you that you were nuts.
There was nothing therapeutic about a smelly horse who could take me out with a swift kick.
[addicts + swift kicks? Maybe we’re on to something!]
Yet I find myself in a barn with other addicts.
Some of us are new to recovery; some not.
Some are listening to learn while others now train.
That’s how recovery typically goes.
I hear the stories of each horse.
Once broken, abandoned, abused, used, neglected; angry, irritable, hurt, withdrawn; loners.
My people in animal form.
I find myself nervous as I go into the process.
Large animals scare me; intimidated by the unknown, I guess.
But isn’t there beauty in the pushing of oneself? Leaving that comfort zone and experiencing the new?
Well, shit then, here I go….
As I follow the lead of the trainer, I can’t help but notice how calm and patient the horse is with me.
It is suggested that I get comfortable with Sailor; to put my hands on him and to balance, relax and take it all in.
He’s so attentive; his ears perk as I talk.
I look at his eyes and I start to think of how similar our journeys have been.
From darkness to light.
Tragedy to triumph.
I then connect.
When broken, we experience life in one way, but when rescued, live vastly different; determined to help the next one suffering.
Sailor is patient and aware of where I’m at each moment; pushing me a little bit at a time.
He pulls back just a little, as if to comfort, when the unknown gets the best of me.
He’s a strong leader who loves to heal.
At this point I see clearly how this experience mirrors recovery from drugs and alcohol for me.
One in recovery guiding another desiring just that.
Using their past to heal others by just being attentive, patient and willing to navigate.
Relating to the pain, even when the details aren’t the same.
Pushing to heal; comforting just enough when uneasy.
I’m confident that this recovery business isn’t just human to human.
Recovery is soul to soul.
It’s spiritual, deep and unbelievably healing.
And even with a smelly horse, it’s therapeutic as f**k!
About Jenn Stottlemire:
I am passionate about passing on my experience; to give hope to the ones suffering and rally behind the broken.
Heroin took me on a wild ride straight to hell, but it wasn’t my only demon.