A Season of Horses, Health and Happiness

No matter what month you’re in, joy and gratitude are worth striving for.

We made it through “Sober October,” a month-long abstinence from alcohol that our family practices all 12 months just to make sure we get it right. We’re now entering No-Shave November, and my husband’s beard is quickly approaching his belt buckle. The man has his fair share of shortcomings, but the ability to grow facial hair is not one of them.

Some folks also call this month “Slowvember.” It’s a way to remind themselves to slow down before the holidays. The following month can so easily turn into “Destructive December,” especially when it comes to the family’s bank account and Mom’s sanity. It’s not easy to be Santa and all the elves at once while also breaking ice, feeding horses each morning and trying not to show up at work with hay in your hair.

I’d like to give a shoutout to the nice lady in the public restroom who brushed hay off the back of my jacket last winter. That’s the horsewoman’s equivalent of “Excuse me, but you have spinach in your teeth.”

I will stick with “Grateful November,” which doesn’t rhyme but has stood the test of time. It also implies that I am less grateful the other 11 months of the year, which irritates me only because it’s kind of true. Nonetheless, I will slow down and mull over a few things I’m grateful for.

Horses

They’re my favorite animals and always near the top of my list. They’re ready listeners and always willing to lend an ear or two, no matter which direction they’re pointed. Rain or shine, they’re all-weather companions I can count on every day of the year. Plus, they smell amazing. One deep whiff of mane hair successfully eliminates 99.9% of my troubles the first time, every time. Horse sweat underneath the mane takes care of the other 0.01%.

Health

If you’ve been reading my column in the print magazine, you’ll know that I struggled with health issues the past year. Actually, I struggled for the last 17 years before finally receiving a diagnosis of postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome. The only thing more complicated than the pronunciation is the treatment plan — there is no magic pill that cures it.

Here’s POTS in a nutshell: every time I stand up, most of my blood remains in the lower half of my body. So, my heart races overtime trying to pump blood up north, and my brain panics because it realizes it is up north. My days are a cycle of rapid heartbeats, dizzy spells and trying to remember if I turned off the horse water. I wish I could blame that last one on POTS, but I’m pretty sure I’ve always been like that.

Restoring my health is an evolving work in progress (aren’t we all?), but I’m gaining ground. I’m grateful for time spent brushing the long mane of my favorite horse and look forward to getting saddle time this winter. At least then, I can sit down.

Happiness

Years ago, a friend told me that happiness is a choice. I’ve adopted that as my mantra, and it’s never let me down. Horses are sometimes turned out for the winter, and health ebbs and flows, but happiness can be chosen throughout it all.

These days, I’m happiest when watching my kids rope in the branding pen, putting out salt for range cattle with my husband or listening to silence at the dinner table that tells me my beef stew was a hit. Recognizing happiness — and gratitude — during the good times makes it easier to choose them no matter the season.

Maybe next year, I’ll remember to be grateful all 12 months. I doubt my husband will make the same choice with his beard once the weather hits triple digits, though. That would be too much to handle, especially while sober

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