It shouldn’t be this heavy. It shouldn’t be this burden. It couldn’t have always been this way, taken this many resources.

I wonder what my ancestors who were in relationship with horses might think of the lengths I go to in order to still have horses in my life. Would they think I’m crazy?

Do I think I’m crazy?

Well, we should probably properly define ‘crazy’, as the way I see it, there are two definitions: the first crazy means simply a mental instability, while the second conveys a passion one possesses that is so strong, it blurs the line between the person, and the passion. When one is “crazy” about something, they become a crazy ______ person (fill in the blank).

And then there are times when the two meanings collide. In this case, when the ‘crazy horse person’ becomes purely, simply crazy.

From the most die-hard equestrians to those who float in and out of close relationship with horses, but love them nonetheless, it seems the common thread that binds us is that we all strive to walk the line. We tread very carefully during our days at the barn, bristling at the thought of crossing unintentionally into the ‘mentally unstable stable realm.’

Where is the line? I believe it’s different for each of us.

In all honesty, I can’t help but wonder looking back if I’ve crossed that line myself. But I’ll get to that part of the story in a bit….

It doesn’t help that our society seems to have a very low threshold between horse crazy and horse loving person who is crazy. Putting energy, time, and resources into a being that does not return that yield in a utilitarian way can easily be dubbed insane. After all, our society favors progress over connectedness, growth over giving, return over relationship. Need I say more?

We can partner with horses for work purposes to this day, but it is becoming increasingly ‘unnecessary’ in our technologically advanced society. On many levels, we’re fighting the tide of the overculture’s emphasis on tech simply by practicing horsemanship. By continuing to foster the ancient relationships with horses that began between our species approximately 6,000 years ago.

So let’s get one thing straight: I wholeheartedly believe that being a horse person does not make you crazy. The problem is, being a horse person in the 21st century is crazy-making.

Case in point: do you know how much it costs to keep a horse? In this century, in this climate, in this culture, horse-keeping is work, work, work.

Horse keeping, once upon a time, offered our ancestors the chance to look forward in awe at the endless possibilities the horse granted them that were previously denied. The most important arguably being the ability to travel long-distances at a much faster pace. Horses opened up the whole world to our ancestors, allowing them to reach out and grasp at the next frontier.

Nowadays, horse keeping has become akin to looking back and wondering what you could have done with that money, with that time, with those hours. Sigh.

Alas, if you’re crazy about horses and you know it, do yourself a favor and get used to sitting with regret. Stare into its soul, and tell it your truth: sure, you could’ve done XYZ if you didn’t choose horses. But the truth is what Hozier sang:

If someone asked me at the end

I’d tell them put me back in it

Darling, I would do it again

A Case Study in Insanity

Recently a friend who I grew up with came to visit. We met at the ranch where we practiced horsemanship growing up. I boarded my horse at the ranch, and my friend leased another boarder’s horse.

The reason I share this is because the ways our lives unfolded from that time in our tender ages reflects the two distinctly different paths we chose as horse people. Each crazy in our own unique way.

We were only two years apart, yet our lives appeared night and day from one another’s. My friend was a student attending University, working at a sought-after internship in her area of study. She was pursuing a fulfilling career, had a thriving social- and romantic life and even exciting travel plans for the future, to boot.

I, on the other hand, was a married University grad, caring for my 18 month old son while working much less than part time at my chosen career.

But wait for the real kicker…

The starkly different life phases we were in paled in comparison to the one factor that really mattered as we measured our lives.

As horsewomen in our blood and bones, that factor was, you guessed it: our relationships with horses.

The headings, ‘College’, ‘Marriage’, ‘Travel’, and ‘Children’ faded into the background as we spoke to the trials and tribulations of the two opposing paths we wandered: what I call, the Paths of Detachment and Attachment.

First off, let’s be clear: both have their pitfalls. The former Path of Detachment, most obviously lacks that which all true horse folk need to feel complete: the four-legged muses who get us high on life as though we’re Ulysses and his men day dreaming in a field of poppies.

The latter, singing the praises of attachment, is clearly marked with warning signs that read ‘Drought in West: Hay Prices Rising’, and ‘Ride At Your Own Risk: As Though You’ll Ever Have Time or Energy After Daily Barn Chores, Sucker.’

Spoiler alert: both paths threaten insanity in their own unique ways.

For my friend who had leased a horse at our local boarding ranch growing up, finances and time had always loomed over the entry to the attachment path like two smirking bouncers. They questioned, are you old enough? Are you rich enough?

The relationship she had with the horse she leased was no less full of love simply because she didn’t own him in title. She cared for him deeply, and he cared for her unequivocally. And wasn’t that what all horse-human relationships strive for?

But because she didn’t own him, when it came time to graduate high school and make her plans for college, she didn’t have to factor in bringing him, or making other arrangements. There was no detachment to be made other than being able to say to her four-legged soul mate, “I love you, and I’ll visit every chance I get.” And so, her life at college began. It was still costly, but at least unencumbered by the even more exponential expenses of horse-keeping.

Meanwhile, at the far other end of the spectrum, I fell under the spell of the attachment path.

My middle-class family made a decent killing in the modern California gold rush, otherwise known as the cannabis trade. It allowed me to have a horse growing up, and for that I will always be thankful. However it was, shall we say *sketchy* growing up on an indoor grow operation. And likewise, I wouldn’t recommend it (if you’re getting any ideas), especially now that cannabis has become legal and corporations run the game while mom and pop operations struggle to sell their green gold, no less afford permits.

While I’d always done chores at the boarding ranch where we kept my horse growing up to work off some board, had I really known the full spectrum of costs associated with horse ownership, I’m not so sure I’d have wound up with horses… no less, three of them.

That’s right, I have three of my own horses.

Am I insane? A valid question. And one I’ll never be able to come up with a satisfactory answer for any non-horse person. Because if you don’t know the feeling of being around horses and moreover, the empty feeling when they’re not around, as if you were stale dust waiting to be quenched by rain - you will simply never understand why we horse people go to such great lengths to be with them. To water our souls with the most gratifying form of nourishment we know.

Yes, I’m full of love for horses, but that’s among the most abundant areas of my life. And if I had more abundant finances, they’d likely still go towards my horses. I’d be richer for it in one sense, but not in the way that a financially responsible person can attest.

What is a captain without their ship? What is a horse person without their horse? The attachment path consumes you so entirely, you’d just as soon sink to the bottom of the sea than lose who you are.

So to give you an idea of the lunacy of owning horses in the 21st century, I’m going to share with you what I wish someone had told me long ago: the cold, hard financial truths. If I could do it all over again, like I said, I’d echo Hozier and say “put me back in it.”

That said, since I’ve taken the scenic route navigating the pitfalls of horse keeping over the last nearly twenty years, here’s all the information I can offer to empower you on your path with horses, whichever one you choose.