blog

What nearly getting bucked off a horse in Guatemala taught me about resiliency.

By Lauren Aldridge

---

Welcome back! So lovely to see you all again. Have you heard? It’s the Year of the Horse (All woo-woo astrology girlies, please stand up. Honorary mention and a very close second for my horse girls, you beautiful weirdos).

Anyone else have a “hear me out” crush on Spirit, Stallion of the Cimarron in the early 2000s? Just me or…?

Let’s talk briefly about the significance of Year of the Horse, and what it could mean for your life. Then we’ll get into one of my wilder travel stories- a la una gringa a caballo.

---

All About the Zodiac Killer Calendar

In Chinese Zodiac, or Shēngxiào, horses symbolize speed, perseverance, and success. The Zodiac cycle changes on the Lunar New Year between January and February each year. It moves in twelve-year cycles; aka the year of the horse comes once every 12 years.

The last Year of the Horse was in 2014- I was 20 years old and a junior in college. This was also the year I suddenly lost my dad- I got a call on a random Friday morning in February and it changed the entire course of my life as I knew it. Talk about a curve ball. Coincidentally, his death coincided almost exactly with the date of the Lunar New Year that year. Kinda wild, huh? Especially when you consider the context of what Year of the Horse (YOTH) represents in the Zodiac.

Horse energy symbolizes sudden upheaval, changes, and rapid shifts of energy. The YOTH we find ourselves in currently is in the house of Fire. Seems fitting, if anyone else has also felt their life has been burning to the ground the last few months. Phew! You are not alone. Fire Horse energy means rapid growth and transformation. It is a 60-year cycle associated with high creativity and intense “blazing” change. The last Fire Horse year was 1966; we were gearing up for the landing on the moon and the Vietnam War was escalating. The counterculture era of the 1970s was also brewing, which produced some of the most incredible art and musicians of the last century.

All to say- a time of significant changes. Changes break old patterns and propel growth forward. Growth is good! But we must remember to hang on. It can feel scary to go through big changes and life transitions! We may want to cling to what feels familiar, our old (maybe unhealthy) routines, or comfort- even when it hinders our progress.

Being thrown into the depths of grief at a young age shaped the way I look at relationships, the impermanence of all things, and what I hold dear. Although I would not wish it on anyone, I think pain can be one of our most important teachers if we learn how to be with it instead of running away or distracting ourselves from it. We can probably all say we want our lives to feel deep and meaningful- while forgetting that the conduit for depth and meaning is usually on the other side of a whole lot of discomfort.

曾经沧海难为水 Céngjīng cānghǎi nán wéi shuǐ translates to, “Once you have experienced the vast ocean, other waters are not worth calling water”. A line from poet Yuan Zhen about the irreplaceable nature of loss.

This brings me to my story.

---

Shake the Frost

                This past January I spent a month in Guatemala. It could not have come at a better time. I was in a season of winter- both literally and figuratively. I felt stagnant and burned out. Arriving in Central America felt like a much-needed jolt to my system; breathing in lush, green jungle and blooming orchids was a far cry from cold, gray Denver back home. I rented an Airbnb on Lake Atitlan, a massive volcano crater in the southwest region of the country surrounded by small towns and villages. My little abode was tucked into a hillside, with a sweeping view of the lake and the still-active Volcán de Fuego (fun fact- it is extremely active, erupting several times an hour. You can see the lava pouring down the side of the mountain most days from miles away, especially at dawn). I would lay in my hammock every morning with coffee, watching the sun creep over the horizon from my balcony fashioned out of tree branches and creeping vines, and felt like queen of the world.

This is the best kind of growth- the type of sudden change that wakes one up from a slumber. I cried fat, cathartic, healing tears by the water and let the sun bake me golden brown. Guatemalans say that mama Lago has deep, powerful feminine energy; I felt invigorated by her.

I mean, come on!!! Mama Lago forever <3

Please see my TikTok parody, “White woman returns from Central America” to see me make fun of myself for eating smoothie bowls and doing yoga every day (although I do slay in this pic). Link here.

And even better? I had company!!! My friend/ soul sister Natalie joined me for part of my trip. The fates aligned for her and I to spend Christmas and New Years dancing, laughing, reading books in cafes and sipping cold Gallo beers under the stars. Female friendships are the ultimate salve for the soul. We laughed until we cried, kept no hard schedule and sunburnt our pale little bikinied behinds.

How lucky are we?? Look at this babe! Somos mis chanclas para siempre.

For our trip agenda, Natalie and I had a few loose ideas. Some hiking to get out in nature, shopping and spending money visiting markets to experience the rich culture, and a sunset boat cruise to celebrate New Year’s Eve (stories from which will never enter the public domain). Oh, and a horseback riding tour.

It sounded like a fun way to experience the jungle and explore a little further than we could on our own. The tour described riding up a mountainside to a scenic overlook of the lake. We both felt comfortable with horses; Natalie and I had both ridden many times and felt keen. Also, in the spirit of the upcoming Year of the Horse, we thought it would be the perfect apropos adventure.

---

HOW IT ALL WENT DOWN

The day of, we took a taxi boat across the lake to the nearby town of San Pedro for our tour. As we navigated the winding cobblestone streets, we felt excited. We both loved horses- and horseback would be a nice reprieve from the hard, clanking metal of the tuk-tuks (local taxis) we had grown accustomed to riding in. We eagerly approached the barn, where two other tourist-looking women had just saddled up. We all greeted one another. A man (sort of) asked our names, plopped us onto two nearby horses, and off we went. No paperwork and no questions. It probably took all of 45 seconds.

*For anyone who just read this, and alarm bells are going off in your head of, “You just walked up to a random place and got on horses?? That doesn’t sound safe! That’s how people get kidnapped!” – I hear that and respectfully ask you to shush. Traveling solo is like anything in life- don’t be dumb. We booked the tour through a highly reviewed agency which yes, we confirmed was real, and we had our locations and yadda yadda shared with friends and family. We also each had working cell phones. If I’m being honest, I have often felt safer in the third-world countries I have visited than I do in parts of the US. I’ve never met kinder, more generous people than while abroad. Also, I’ll give Nat and I some credit that if we walked up to a sketchy cardboard sign next to a roadside ditch that said, “horses” and were asked to hand over our passports, I don’t think we would have fallen for that one (unless it was run by a Bad Bunny impersonator). *

Another brief side note- one of my absolute favorite things about traveling in foreign countries is that there is usually complete lack of any regulation or protocol. Honest to God. I love that other countries don’t get all wrapped up in red tape and freak out if someone stubs a toe and threatens to sue. It just simply wouldn’t happen, because there is no red tape to even speak of to begin with. When I got my SCUBA cert in Colombia in 2019, we literally had to hold our own oxygen tanks as we pitched back and forth in the dinghy on the way to the dive site. These tanks are extremely heavy, and yes, did hit all of us multiple times in the shins and knees. Was anybody complaining? Of course not! Because it’s Colombia– what are they supposed to do?? If that had happened in America, I guarantee someone would have been carrying on and making a scene saying how it hurt their feelings and they’re going to sue for emotional damages. I think getting hit in the shins every now and then is good for character.

Travel experience is my most valuable currency I carry in life, because it has given me the priceless gift of perspective. It reminds me that most of that stuff people set their watches to- rules, regulations, anticipating and waiting and trying to control all of the variables to prevent something from going wrong- is no way to live. Because things do go wrong. All the time! Trying to control and predict any of it is an illusion, and very very tiring. I’d rather spend my energy hooting and hollering while riding a motorbike through the jungle. Or jumping into a river/ lake/ miscellaneous body of water wearing little to no clothing.

Anyway. Back to the horses.

We had two guides for our tour. Victor, a Guatemalan man in his 50s who spoke fondly about his wife, two sons and his love of horses; and Calissa, a maybe-30-something-but-we’re-not-entirely-sure Lebanese woman who made her entrance to the group by galloping up with a lit joint hanging out of her mouth and rearing her horse. She wore a bindi on her forehead and explained in a matter-of-fact tone that all you needed to know in order to ride a horse well is to just pretend like you are having sex. Calissa and her horse, Mariposa, were acrobatic circus performers. I promise I am not embellishing any of this.

Calissa pictured above. Like?? Look how dope she is!

My horse was Viento. From the start Viento was skittish; she seemed impatient and irritated to be walking in our single-file line through town out to the trail. She snorted and tossed her head against the reins; I looked back to Victor a few times, who was right behind me at the back of the group, to see if he had any input. He just chuckled and said, “Viento es muy curioso today!” as she defiantly stuck her head in a bush. I asked, “Is she always like this?” and he admitted she did seem a bit spirited today but assured me it was nothing too out of the ordinary. I didn’t think her behavior warranted me needing to stop the entire group for, so I rode on. I was riding well and had good control of the reins, so I concluded Viento probably just needed to blow off a little steam and would mellow out soon enough.

However. I also knew enough about horses to know I could not let Viento feel pick up on the fact that her behavior was stressing me out. I felt comfortable with horses, sure- but I’d also never felt intimidated by the power and size of one. I became acutely aware of how much raw strength a horse has; an animal that, while beautiful, is still ultimately a prey animal- and if spooked will react like one. I did my best to keep calm and trotted alongside Natalie, who was having a wonderful time on her sweet, elderly white horse who just seemed happy to be included. Our group was all conversing easily; we strolled through the streets and soon came to the outskirts of town.

LOLO TAKES FLIGHT

The cobblestone road had traded for flat, dusty concrete, but there were still a few buildings and cars passing on either side of the road. I was mid-conversation with Natalie, looking over at her on my right when a bus passed closely on the left. It let out a release of compressed air; the “pshhh” sound caught all of us off guard, but no one more than (you guessed it) Viento. The moment I flinched at the sound, I was done. She let out a distressed whinny and broke into a full-on sprint, my leg just barely missing the side of the bus as we hurled forward. I was so jolted by the movement that my body was launched up out of the saddle; thankfully I had a hard grip on the reins and squeezed my legs to her ribcage to hang on for dear life. I instinctively held on; the only thought screaming through my head was, “STAYONTHISHORSE”. I wasn’t wearing a helmet or any type of safety gear (third world, remember?). I knew that if I fell off, I would certainly hit my head on the concrete at a high speed and that would be very bad. A serious head injury in the third world was at the top of my list of things to avoid at all costs. Additionally, Viento was clearly spooked as hell and if I fell off, I knew there was a possibility I could be trampled under her hooves. Also not ideal. All of this transpired over just a couple of seconds when suddenly Viento bucked me. Not high, and not enough to throw me- but enough to hurl my body all the way to the left side of her torso, to where I was now literally riding sideways. Viento was still running at full speed. My head pitched down and forward to the left; I saw dusty hooves and my extra reserve of adrenaline suddenly kicked on. I heaved, hard, and was able to counter-throw my body weight back up and onto the saddle. At that moment, horse and rider both came to a shuddering stop. I looked around and realized I was in the middle of the road; we had sprinted at least 50 yards over just a couple of seconds. By some miracle there were no cars in the road, and I was unhurt.

I had stayed on the damn horse.

I looked back down the road to see Natalie with the other riders- her mouth was hanging open in total, stunned shock. It would have been hilarious had I not just had a semi-near-death experience. Calissa and Victor rushed toward me while I sat paralyzed on Viento’s back. Viento was now unbothered, seeming oblivious to what had just transpired. Victor held Viento in place as I climbed down from my saddle, shaking so badly it took me several moments to get to the ground. I looked over to Natalie, feigning composure and asking, “did you see that?” to which she replied something like “yes you bitch that was fucking crazy holy shit!” and we shared a wobbly laugh. Victor hurriedly swapped his horse for mine, apologizing profusely (“lo siento lo siento mucho gringa”) and as I clambered onto the new saddle, I was shaking like a leaf.

Now look. I’ve had scary moments in my life. Lots of them. But this was probably the most physically in danger I have ever felt in a single moment. My brain and body simply did not know what to do with this information; I couldn’t tell if I wanted a cigarette or to throw up.

Our group collectively moved off to the side of the road and formed a semi huddle to regroup for a moment. Everyone was incredibly nice and asking if I was okay; I was still trying to process where my body was in space and time. Calissa, I suppose, decided that now was an appropriate time to brief us all on horse safety. Red tape, as it turns out, can sometimes be a good thing. Just not necessarily after the fact of “oh shit we almost just killed this gringa”. Nevertheless- she told us not to spook our horses, because they feel our energy. She showed us how to properly hold a rein. I tried to control my breathing and started to silently cry as I felt Natalie appear next to me. I looked at her and said, “that was really scary” before breaking down sobbing. Calissa, thankfully, shut up in that moment and I was able to take a minute to collect myself.

Also, in case anyone was wondering what was wrong with Viento: turns out she had recently given birth and had been “off duty” for the last few weeks not carrying any riders. The staff had just started weaning her foal, so she and her baby had just been separated the day before. This was her first time leaving the barn, and I was her lucky first rider. :)

My leg, from when I fell to the left side of her body and hauled myself back up, preventing my head from being smacked on concrete. Tis but a flesh wound.

Here we are, before all hell broke loose. Viento means “wind” in Spanish, by the way- I feel like tornado would have been more fitting.  

---

THE AGE-OLD QUESTION: TO RIDE OR NOT TO RIDE?

Once I had a minute or two to reasonably calm myself down, Calissa and Victor (who were, to their credit, both incredibly nice and supportive throughout this entire ordeal) checked in with me to see what I wanted to do. I was asked to decide- did I want to continue with the tour and go up the mountain? There was at least another 90 minutes of riding ahead of us up rugged jungle terrain. It was hot, and I was sweating from head to toe (my head scarf had flown off during the whole I-went-sideways-on-a-horse thing, which Victor, bless him, had run into the street to retrieve for me). The adrenaline had left my system by now and my limbs felt weary. The thought of using my muscles for another hour and a half was daunting. My alternative would be to return to the barn with Victor and call it a day; I could rest, relax, and probably have no less than 1-3 Pacifico’s. The latter sounded extremely tempting. I was more than exhausted, physically and emotionally. I was still shaken up and was feeling fragile. I had just had a sort-of-near-death-experience, for crying out loud! I had earned some rest.

And yet.

I feel that we are, on occasion, presented with “tipping points” in life. Moments that, even while they are happening in real time, you know you’ll look back on and ask yourself, “how did I respond when things got hard?” – this was undoubtedly one of those moments. A moment where I think you have a choice to either define yourself on your own terms, planting yourself firmly in the driver’s seat of your life, or shrink back into the passenger seat.

What am I made of?

Let me be clear- there was absolutely zero pressure or judgment from anyone else as I was weighing my decision. And it’s not like I would have crumbled and thought of myself as a failure had I chosen to go back and rest- taking the out here would have been extremely justified. So it’s not like I was forcing myself into a traumatizing situation or anything- more like, I felt I was pushing into a space of growth with myself. Where I wondered if I was capable of more than I thought. “Maybe I’m stronger than I realized. I did just survive almost getting bucked off a horse, after all. What’s a little trail ride?”.

How do I choose to respond when things are difficult? When they feel scary? And more importantly- what kind of person am I? Am I the type of person who quits when it’s hard? Who blames other people and retreats into my comfort zone? The short answer is, and always will be- no, I am not.

So I chose to stay! And am so glad I did. Staying on the tour and riding the trail was more than worth it. The views were stunning, group morale was high, and I felt light and joyful again. I broke through a very important barrier with myself that day. I had been drop-kicked out of my comfort zone, during a trip that was already expanding me and challenging me to grow. I felt unstoppable (and like, so tired) by the time Natalie and I crawled into bed that night. It was one of the most well-earned nights of sleep I have ever had.  

Having a gallop on my new horse. If you told me I’d be galloping on another horse 10 minutes after almost getting thrown off one, I would not have believed you. You are capable of more than you think!

Life has a funny way of throwing us curve balls. If we remain open, we can pivot and roll with the punches- staying flexible and gaining (dare I say) wisdom as a result. If you are rigid, you might tip over. Brittle, hard things tend to break. No matter what life is throwing your way at the moment- be it a single event, or a whole dang series of nonstop curve balls, I think it can be helpful to remember we always have a choice. To rise to the challenges and unexpected pitfalls of life, or to crumble. Remember- Year of the Fire Horse is about expansion. Even if it feels scary or hard, trust there is a purpose for it. Let yourself be pushed. This is not for the faint of heart, though; it takes courage to stand your ground.

As for me? I will always get back on that damn horse.

---

As always, thank you, thank you, thank you so much for reading!!! It means the world to me that you decided to spend some time in my weird little mind. Please leave a comment and give me a follow on social media:

Instagram: @restorativerootshealing

YouTube: LaurenAldridge1

Tik Tok: Lauren_Aldridge93

Cheers!