I went to bed thinking about what to write for an article…. What would be helpful, maybe something about bits or technique?  What came to my mind surprisingly was about my relationship with the horse.

I was riding as soon as I was walking maybe sooner and my mother and father made sure that I had the exposure…they were very active in the American Quarter Horse Association as breeders and competitors. That being aside, my relationship began early on when I found my connection with each of the horses as I grew up; their individual personalities…. They, were very much like my family.  Growing up in the South Bay area, riding even alone sometimes, in the Santa Cruz mountains, I never gave much thought about how special my life was. I took it for granted that it was commonplace and that anyone could have this much freedom. As I grew older, we moved to Oregon and I experienced living in a more remote life, on the McKenzie River.  I still, was connected with the horses but the social environment of school and a basically non horsey community of friends drew me away from it somewhat.

August 23, 1973 changed that. That was the day my best friends mother died in my arms from a lethal gunshot…. I won’t go into details but I can assure you, I was transformed by a very real moment, when life slipping away in front of me, her soul as I knew disappeared like the setting sun, leaving only my heart beating in my ears and the weight of her body cradled in my arms. I was 13 and suddenly no longer a child. I relate this because the first thing that brought me solace was to be with the horses.

 It may seem corny, but I found myself sitting there in the field surrounded by a band of 8 horses, accepting me, not judging or caring even a little about what had happened…they only sought company and grass. How simple. I think those times I needed to hold onto something true, the horses gave me that, they were honest, straight out, no guess work involved. I did not find that in the human element…lies, cheating, hidden agendas; every one judges everyone, better or worse, power plays. Don’t get me wrong I had love and compassion, plenty…but I knew that there was a dirty truth in life, I had lived it.

So…. in the end, horses I could trust, people? I never really knew if someone was who they seemed but the horse was 99% of the time right up front. So here I am a horse trainer, well maybe, maybe, they train me. They train me to be kind, to be patient, to be alert…ever on guard, yet living life right now and enjoying simple things. They are forever memorizing good and bad experiences yet often very forgiving, over and over. Are they just dumb…I don’t think so; I think a greater power gave them a big heart, one big enough to allow prejudice and wrong to afflict them and still try to please us. What more can you ask for? Ask the same for yourself. Ask yourself if you can be that simple and true. The next time you look close into a horse’s eye, you will see your reflection. What will they see?  I hope they will they see love and trust, compassion and happy excitement, living life for the sunshine and the green grass and good company. I will always be indebted to the horses in my life.  I have watched them be born and watched some die. In each and every horse I have ever met, I found a kindred spirit…..or maybe, I find myself.

Clayton A. Jackson

May 2012