Out of the shadows

Losing my sight in my teens put an end to my dream of working with horses. The diagnosis of juvenile macular degeneration I received left me in no doubt that I would become blind, so I switched my focus to academics and art. By the time I was declared legally blind at age 17, I had completely put away all physical goals and decided to become a novelist instead.

I justified this with the belief that, by doing so, I was saving others the trouble of having to look after me.

But deeply-felt desires do not die. My passion for horses and riding in the open countryside was suppressed on account of my visual impairment but it continued to live in the shadows. Occasionally, it would provoke me to envy others who hiked or backpacked to fascinating places. Sometimes, I even raged at disabled people who assembled teams to help them realise their dreams, as if by doing so they were making unreasonable demands.

The niggling desire came to the surface when my sister and I spent a few days together holidaying at a farm. We spoke about her love of riding and the horse she has owned for several years now. For the first time ever, I allowed myself to imagine getting back in the saddle and my soul responded with a powerful, "Yes!" I imagined myself mounted on a sure-footed pony, reins held steady in my hands, feet comfortably in the stirrups, setting out on a trail into the mountains. No sounds of car engines, nothing to screen the birdsong or sounds of wind and stream. It felt so good, so right and so possible, not like before when so much had seemed to stand in my way.

Strangely enough, when I shared this with my sister, she said, "Well, I've suggested it to you in the past but you never seemed to be interested." Likewise, my daughter said, "I've often wondered why you never rode after we had grown up, considering the wonderful memories you have of riding as a child." Apparently, the idea of me getting back into the saddle isn't as big a deal to others as it is to me. Funny how a belief about good manners and not being a burden on others can completely smother natural longing.

With my passion for trail riding breaking free, i find that I'm no longer so concerned about inconveniencing others. After all, what is for me a need for assistance is for others a job opportunity. It takes all kinds to make the world go around. I like to think that my restored ambition to travel far afield on horseback will translate into novel career paths for young people who would otherwise never have conceived of helping blind horse-lovers get back in the saddle and venture far afield.