There’s a fine balance between patient and student, between therapy and riding.  Being an instructor is a lesson in balance, and much like the horses we utilize, our perception is dynamic.  We walk into the arena with a preconception of our student’s ability based on their diagnosis; a summary of symptoms, contraindications, and prognoses.  Expectations can then be modified to accommodate so called disabilities.  There.  That’s the moment where student becomes patient, and consequently where we have the ability to do the most good.

For the past few weeks a rider and horse have been reshaping our perceptions.  Gone is the “adaptive”, leaving only “riding” to represent her work in the arena.  There are no games, no colored scarves, or Simon Says.  Instead she performs intricate patterns, guiding her horse through a series of movements often beyond the grasp of able-bodied riders.  And she’s told no, or not good enough, do it again.  We push.  We ask for more, as much as she can give.  Then the moment comes when the horse softens and the stars align while she sits the trot with more poise than you thought possible.

You spin around, looking for witnesses to the harmony.  “Did you see that?” We help her out of her wheelchair and onto a horse and there the accommodations end.  Somewhere between the mounting block and the arena gate she goes from patient to student, on the back of the horse she becomes a woman complete.