April 2, 2026: Lessons in Letting Go
Bee is officially settling in at Sarah’s place… and in a very Bee-like fashion, she created immediate drama when meeting her new “neigh”bors. There is, of course, video evidence, because chaos like that deserves documentation.
The best part of the video is Sarah’s commentary. It makes me LOL.
I went to see her Wednesday, and while she’s still not a lovey-dovey horse, she gave me that signature side eye I’ve come to know and love. You know the one. It says, “I acknowledge your presence, but don’t get carried away.”
Honestly, I missed it.
It’s funny how even a little attitude starts to feel like home.
Sarah has already started doing her usual “spooky” things with Bee, opening gates, walking down alleys, and generally introducing her to situations designed to make her question her life choices and then grow from them. It’s all very character-building. For Bee. Possibly for Sarah. Definitely for me to watch.
This is the kind of exposure that builds confidence, even if it doesn’t feel like it in the moment.
Sarah sent me a video of Bee going over water this week, and it was one of those moments that perfectly sums up where we are right now. The first pass, she walked through it like a seasoned professional, no hesitation, no drama. Coming back the other direction, though, was a different story. Suddenly it was suspicious, questionable, and clearly something worth reconsidering.
Progress is funny like that. One direction feels easy, the other reminds you there is still work to do.
You can’t make money with those feet Bee!
Bee also lost a shoe and had a pretty solid crack in the other hoof (above), because apparently she wanted to keep things interesting. Luckily, her trusty farrier was already scheduled, so the timing worked out perfectly. She’s now all fixed up and ready for the hard work ahead. Physically, she’s prepared. Emotionally… we’ll circle back.
Now, let’s talk about my lesson.
Sarah introduced me to what I can only describe as a combined DEFCON / Poor Life Choices Scale of riding, a carefully structured system designed to test both your balance and your will to live.
We progressed as follows:
DEFCON 5 / Level 1: Me in saddle, feet in stirrups. Excuse me, what did you say, “No hands?”. Feels mildly illegal but manageable.
DEFCON 4 / Level 2: Trotting, no hands. Confidence begins to leave the building.
DEFCON 3 / Level 3: Loping, no hands. Now we’re making bold choices.
DEFCON 2 / Level 4: Feet out of the stirrups… still no hands. At this point, I have questions.
DEFCON 1 / Level 5: Trotting, no stirrups, no hands. Core strength has officially been subpoenaed.
DEFCON “Call My Family” / Level 6: Loping, no stirrups, no hands… this feels like something I should have signed a waiver for.
All of this was happening while Sarah stood calmly at the other end of a lunge line, fully in control of her horse Joe, and I was just along for the ride, reevaluating every decision that led me to that moment.
As entertaining as it sounds, there is real purpose behind it. Every level strips away something you rely on and forces you to find balance instead of control.
Also worth mentioning, I am sore. Very sore.
Sarah warned me ahead of time, and I remember laughing, thinking, “the horse does all the work.” Turns out, that is not entirely accurate and a mistake to laugh.
When you take away your hands and stirrups, there is nowhere to hide. Every muscle suddenly has a job and is required to participate, and most of mine were not properly prepared for it. It is a humbling reminder that riding well is far more physical, and far more intentional, than it looks from the outside. Apparently, riding correctly is a full-body workout. Who knew!
I’ve been riding for three years and have never done anything like this. It is deeply uncomfortable to not be in control, but that is exactly the point. The exercise forces you to rely on your seat instead of your hands. You stop anticipating and start feeling what the horse is doing beneath you.
That was humbling, so when Sarah guided us around the arena with lots of turns I decided to just close my eyes and let my body feel the ride. Nothing builds trust like removing your vision while sitting on a moving animal.
It actually worked though. It made me focus on my seat, keeping my hips loose and responsive instead of leaning forward, which remains my favorite bad habit. Turns out, balance improves significantly when panic is slightly reduced and your body finally cooperates.
Trust, it turns out, is not built by holding on tighter. It is built by learning when to let go.
Also worth noting, I still absolutely love the feel of a good lope. Even at DEFCON “pray for me,” that part never gets old.
Outside of horse-induced character development, birthday weekend with the grandkids and their parents was so much fun.
Henley is currently deep into her board game era, Candyland is the reigning champion, and she takes it very seriously. Cullen, on the other hand, is fully committed to supporting whatever his big sister is doing, which is both adorable and efficient.
The highlight gift was an electric Jeep, which was an immediate hit. Nothing says “best day ever” like a tiny human confidently driving a vehicle with absolutely no regard for pedestrian safety, which would be us.
If Bee survives Sarah’s program and I survive future DEFCON levels, next week’s update should be equally eventful. One way or another, we are both learning a lot.
Until next time,
Christina & Bee 🐝💛