I love horses.

I attended a training at a ranch where a little colt was free to roam the arena while we were engaged in our work.  He came up behind us with a mischievous nip or nudge. He followed people prancing and pawing.  I found him cute and annoying as hell.

The description of a woman, a human being, as a “twice divorced, depressive”  triggered me. This label stung. I went up in my head and wanted to get the hell out of that arena.

I walked toward the end of the corral and the little imp slipped up behind me. He reared and brought his the front two legs down on my shoulders. His hoof clipped my right temple. There was a littlblood and a lot of humiliation, it hurt. I was infuriated.  Did I let him have it? No! I stuffed it down, shook my head and felt like a fool. I did not know how to set boundaries.

There is much to learn from sitting with the defeated aspects of self and uncomfortable feelings.

The humiliations are as much a part of me as the successes.  I felt like a victim much of my life. I choose chaos when I pretend not to know or live distracted. This is a refusal to take personal responsibility for what I tolerate. This colt was only a menace because I did not set limits. He snapped me out of my daze. It is my business to pay attention, set boundaries and take responsibility for my life.


Cindi Leveridge, MA, LPC