EQUUS

Finding balance

Years ago I chose writing over riding, but now I realize that a person need not limit themselves to just one passion in life.

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When I was around 11, I came across a notepad among the knickknack­s in the local tack shop. I was drawn to it because of a cartoon---a girl lying on her stomach atop an unsaddled horse, with a pen and pad poised on the horse’s rump. “I’m a rider and a writer,” the caption said.

That pad was made for me. It was through written words that I came to love horses. When I was in second grade, I got a chunky little children’s version of Black Beauty for Christmas. The story left me teary and determined: Horses had to be in my life.

My parents required some convincing. I used words to my advantage, as I waged a campaign to convince them that I needed to ride. I borrowed books from the library and wrote down nuggets of useful informatio­n, like “Riding is not as dangerous as skiing,” and how good it was for posture. The hard work paid off when I was signed up for lessons at a local barn.

Horses became a full-fledged passion. I spent all my evenings at the barn, dropping my stirrups or knotting my reins to ride hands-free---anything to impress my trainer. At the same time, a second passion was burning more quietly each day in school. I worked equally hard in class, trying to catch the eye of my writing teacher. Once I turned in a 1,000-word story when the word count required was only 150. It worked, and the encouragem­ent was addictive.

At home, I brought my two passions together. I kept a journal with the name of every horse I’d ridden and a tally of every fall I took. I had read that you weren’t a good rider until you fell off at least a few dozen times---so it was something of a silver lining every time I checked another tumble off the list.

As I became a teenager, however, riding lost a bit of its shine for me. I became more interested in talking on the phone and writing notebooks full of poems---about boys, not horses. I had no idea that my parents’ divorce was looming, and soon the decision to stop riding would essentiall­y be made for me.

I never quite lost the urge to be around horses, but a future in the equine world seemed distant and unattainab­le. So after college I chose a career in writing. I love the work, but the inspiratio­n sometimes wears thin. When I have these creative dry spells, I always find myself thinking about horses and what could have been. What kind of rider might I have become? What opportunit­ies would I have found? Would I have pulled out those barn plans I once sketched and started something of my own?

These questions haunt me because I often wonder if I made the right decision. I’ve been longing to ride again but afraid to start. I had always told myself I just couldn’t afford horses on a writer’s salary, but it’s really always been the fear of loving it---and losing it---again.

Well, no more excuses. Why should a person have to choose just one passion in life? Almost 10 years since I left my college riding team, I’ve signed up for riding lessons. So here I am, once again, both excited to ride and inspired to write. Maybe I really am meant to be both a rider and a writer.

We’ll call this my second draft, and we’ll see. BACK IN THE SADDLE: Kelley Granger DiFilippo says a school horse named Scooby is “doing a fine job of breaking me in again.”

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