Perspective

For a while, when I was in the States, I had people suggesting that I become a riding instructor with Path international, meaning I would be certified to do therapeutic horseback riding. I was thinking about it, but was very hesitant, because I wasn’t sure if I wanted the responsibility. I have been sort of a co-instructor for some time now, and I’ve even done classes on my own when none of the instructors could make it. And I managed fine. But I didn’t want it on a weekly basis. So much could go wrong. What horses should I use for each rider? What if the horse I wanted to use was lame, or a bit off that day? Who should I replace it with? What about tack? Should this rider use a western saddle? English? What size? Bridle, sidepull, reins, or would they not even be able to control the horse on their own at all? How should I set up the arena? How would I make sure that each rider was getting the most out of their session? It was too much.

And then I came here. And becoming an instructor in the States doesn’t sound so rough. Oh yeah, the certification process would be a bother, but the actual lessons? I’m starting to think they were easier than I used to believe they were.

Here in India, according to the internet (which, as we all know, is 100% accurate…), there is only one certified equine therapy centre. Leg Up is not certified, but we still do great things :~)

Here in Ooty, we do therapy 3 times a week. We have about 10 children who come on a regular basis, and we are working on ways to get transport for more to be able to come. There are a lot of challenges to doing therapy here. My Wednesday and Friday sessions are done here in town, with the Ashia home. It is also a partnership with Hebron school, so I have several of their students coming to help, as well as our rescued girls. I greatly appreciate all of our volunteers; please don’t think I am in any way complaining about them. I am super blessed to have every one of them. There is no way that LU could succeed without them. But we often have just enough people to be leaders and sidewalkers to our riders. This leaves me with the job during each lesson, of being instructor, leader, sidewalker, and backrider in turns. It is very challenging, but at the same time, I am often pleasantly surprised by how well I am able to do all of these. Work here challenges me in ways that work in the States never would (partly because it would probably be illegal for me to try to do all of those jobs during a therapy session), and there really isn’t a choice for me. I could refuse to do it, saying that it’s too much, but then these kids wouldn’t get therapy. And if you saw the kids’ faces; Ashwin giggling, and having his little dance parties on the horse; Sugash talking more and more every week, and doing his exercises and whatnot without even being told to; all the rest of the kids, smiling and waving at the staff while they ride; you would never want to tell them no.

So I have changed my opinion of what is too hard, or too much responsibility. It’s easy to turn down responsibility when there is someone else to do the job. It’s a bit harder when you know that if you say no, things just won’t get done.