"Identification, please..."

Who are you, as a horse person?

A question I had not considered before, now weighs heavy upon me.

Showing a horse for sale a few weeks ago, the buyer turned to my son who was standing with his horse nearby and asked him, “What kind of riding do you do?” My son looked at her blankly, not understanding the question. He rides. Period. He rides for work. It is his job, something he has had to do, has been expected of him since he was old enough to handle a horse himself. Probably before. At times he loves it, other times I am certain he hates it, but it is a part of who is and what he does. How could he define that to a woman he saw figured a horse and human in terms of disciplines. As in, “I do dressage.” Or, “I endurance race.” Or, “I rope.”

Riding for work. It is different. Our kind of work, outfitting and odd jobs with our horses in the back country. One horse must do many things. Likewise, must the rider. It is harder to define, to classify. We trail ride, we pack, we guide, we horse camp, we train, we teach, we ride to maintain trails, to get to our job in the Wilderness where we then live and work even more closely with our horses. Some days this may require a few dressage moves as we work our string of horses over and around fallen trees and mud pits and washed out trails and swollen rivers. Other days this may require roping or cutting as a pack horse pulls back, snaps the pigging string, and thinks back home is a better place to be. Other days still we may have to endurance race as we lead in our horses in the early morning hours, saddle up ten head, deliver a group of riders and their gear on a drop camp deep into the high country, and do not return home until well past dark.

What kind of riding do we do? Some days it may require all of the above, a little of each. Other days, none. Like now, as all I am able to do is feed my equine friends and family, talk to them, brush them, their thick, heavy and shiny snow coats as they quietly enjoy the simple attention in the warmth of mid day.

What kind of riding do you do? I believe she was expecting the answer to be one specific discipline, one easy and safe label of identification which would allow her to have put her classification of his riding on a neat and tidy shelf where she could comfortably understand it.

We need such boundaries in our lives. It is comforting. Knowledge we can understand, place and fit into a pre painted picture. It is like this for everything in our lives, not just “what kind of rider we are” or “what we do for a living” but in defining “who we are.” We all need to know. The unknown is not a safe place to be.

I make my living with my horses. I read recently that now only 1% of horse owners do. For me, this has been an important part of my identification. Why? Right or wrong, it has been the chosen genre, manner of categorization, the shelf of understanding whereby I could properly place a desciption and definition of my horsemanship, and my self. It has been my safe place. It was easy to grasp and understand and even explain. It was comfortable.

With a large, upcoming move in our near future, it is time to reconsider, recreate. We begin to start anew. Opportunities are not handed to us. We make them. What will we create this one to be?

Somehow holding on to the identification of “someone who works with their horses” is fundamental to who I am. It has been a part of my self definition for only 15 years, but it is something deep and essential to me, who I am, what I am, what I love. For my son, it has been a defining part of his life since he was three. For my husband, his entire adult life he was an outfitter. Even more, far more, a part of his entire life has been based upon working with horses. It has defined him. I find it remarkable he is willing to try something new. He has learned what I am only beginning to learn: he is not defined by what he owns or by his job. He is not defined even by a place. He defines himself, regardless of the opinions and expectations of others.

Being an “outfitter” has been an easy title. Not easy work, but a safe title I could understand, I could use to define and explain myself so others could understand me. As I give this up, I wonder what I will next create. What title will be I be able to use to allow others an understanding of what I do, and far more deeply, who I am? I suppose that is why we do need titles: to give an explanation for something much deeper than our job, our work, our career. It is a matter of self definition.

I seek the next title, the next chapter. I am re-defining my self. I will be what I create, with my husband and son, and horses. Change. It is frightening, but exciting. It is inevitable. A new world unfolds. A new definition. A new self.

“Identification, please…” we are asked. Fill in the blank for job occupation. If not "outfitter" and "guest ranch owner," then what?

I smile as I begin to paint the new picture. I like what I see unfolding.