The Man Who Taught Me to Live...

My father.

My father, in his teens, on his (late) horse White Eyes.

Since my last post, about Horse Group, I've been thinking about my father (who is still, very much, alive). He is the person who taught me to love and respect these wonderful creatures. He was my gateway into the world of nature and farms (which feel completely different to me, even if other's disagree) and while I had a guide when I was younger, it was his ability to allow me to explore and learn at my own pace that, in my adulthood, I respect the most.

He began bringing my sister and I to the farm when we were quite young. We had a great deal of freedom to explore - the only rule I really remember was that we had to stay together. Something that I was glad of but my sister (three years my elder), I'm sure, fought. I was afraid of so much there - I couldn't manage the gates very well and the animals, many of them at least, were much bigger and stronger than I was. I wanted to get in to see them and all they wanted was to get out.

Throughout my youth I learned not to hand feed the animals (no help needed) and to always close the gates behind me. As I grew and began experiencing things at the farm more, my father taught me knots (something that took me to my adulthood to have a genuine interest in), animal care (much I don't remember until I hear someone else talking about it) and about the land (something I've always had an interest in but I'm better at identifying the plants than reading the soil). I love nature and animals and the farm and still feel my most balanced and true to myself when I surround myself with Mother Nature's glory!

When I began riding regularly, in my 12th year, my father taught me first to respect the horse and allowed reality to teach me the rest. If you don't pay attention to where you are, a horse will step on you. If you don't tighten your saddle, you won't be on the horse for long or you had better have impeccable balance (the former of which I learned in front of a boy I was crushing on - I was devastated); the same goes for keeping your heels down, when that horse stops short or jumps from something that gives it a fright, you're time in the saddle is cut short!

I learned why you don't lean back on a horse to bypass a branch (thud!), just how wide of an opening my horse needed to make it through two trees (smash!) and to how to use your balance to stay on a rearing or bucking horse (crunch! ouch!). My father was always there to offer words of wisdom - did you like that outcome? Nope. Good, don't do that again! Off we go...

There were a few times when no one else would show up for riding (Saturday mornings). You'd think that I'd be disappointed as they were my friends but I got to ride with my Dad...and he was all mine! We'd talk as we rode through places we wouldn't go with a group and when we were quiet, I felt a little vine meet between the two of us and grow together. My father is my hero and my friend.

There are many reason I feel that way about my father (whom I never call father but feel the need, now, to do so). He picked me up, no questions asked, when I needed his help moving my things from a relationship-gone-bad. He has given completely sound advice on everything from saving money to what emergency equipment to have in my car (not that I ever listened to any of it). As a kid, I sat in the basement with him as he talked about his tools or camping equipment or candle making and he and I traveled around Texas together on vacation (when I lived there).

He, along with my mother, have never lead me astray but allows me to make my own decisions and deal with my own consequences, even if it hurt to watch me screw up. They are the reason I have always felt able to try new things and explore the life I wanted - I always knew they would help me, if I needed it. Don't get me wrong, my parent's didn't pay my way out of things but they helped me find a road out (and to find the least costly road, if possible) when I made my mistakes. In contrast, they are two people who always cheer when a mistake turns into something fabulous. I don't think I'd be the person I am today without horses (animals) and nature in my life and I wouldn't have the love and respect for the vast natural world around us if it weren't for the eyes I saw them through in my youth.

My parents (far Left and far Right) with their grandchildren.

He was a camp director before I was born and I've followed in his shoes. It never felt like I was shadowing him but the love and respect for the natural world around us led me there. We both tend to believe that no one can do the job (of the counselor, nature person, craft leader, etc.) as well as we can, which leads to high expectations that are difficult to live up to. The thing is that if a staffer lives up to our expectations, even a little, they are producing programming at a level that absolutely wow's parents, campers and other staff alike! His comprehension of the basics of camp (as a recreation activity as well as youth advocacy) is outstanding and it has helped form both my opinions as well as my passion for helping others. Our visions may not always be shared with our employees but the lives we touch and make a difference in makes it all worth wild!

I am trying to share the lessons I have learned from my father (nature, animal, fascination, exploration, camp, etc.) with my own kids but I don't think I'll ever be able to top the way I was taught. So, thank you, Dad. You're amazing and you've touched and influenced my life in more ways than you could ever count.