Monday, February 9, 2015


by Lisa Wysocky

 Every day is a new beginning and is filled with adventure, surprise, challenge, sadness and joy. One of my joys for today was getting to be part of this blog, as I am excited to meet all of you! Another was spending some time with my therapy horses before driving from Nashville, Tennessee to near Birmingham, Alabama where tomorrow I will get to share my knowledge with staff at a newer therapeutic riding center. Pure joy, all of it.

But there was sadness, too. I learned that a friend lost a sixteen-year-old nephew to a car accident last night. My only child passed away five years ago at age twenty-three, so I know first hand the horror and heartbreak this young man's family is experiencing. Their family will never be the same but, having been in their shoes, I know they will somehow survive this tragic loss. Although it may be a while, joy will come back to them again some day, too, and they will have many new beginnings.

Everyone deals with hardship differently. I write, walk, and also find that my horses are a touchstone. Horses are so intuitive that they often know my emotional state better than I do. All I have to do is be aware of their reaction to me and I know if I am too stressed, too tired, or too unfocused––or even too silly. Horses are my therapy and I am so grateful for them.

I am interested to know how your horses react to you when you are going through difficult times, or when you've had a fabulous day. Can you tell a difference in their interest in you when you are feeling different emotions? Let me know. I'd love to hear from you.

In closing, I'd like to share a photo of a horse who was instrumental during my beginning with horses. 
Her name was Snoqualmie and she was a 14.2 hand Appaloosa mare. She meant so much to me that I have written of her in several of my books. Here she is with my son on his fourth birthday. I know, no helmet, but so many years ago, we didn't know what we know today. Snoqualmie stayed with me for twenty-three years and knew me better than any human I have ever met. She went on to the Rainbow Bridge many years ago, but I still think of her every day. RIP Fat Girl. You were both my beginning and a joy.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

My boy, Traveler, is usually a goober. He loves to play, frolic, and run. If I am stressed or saddened, he will approach me and stand close, watching me carefully. He will lower his head and let me hug him tightly. I seek him out when I need a touchstone.