Swimming Through Dreams on Horseback (Paperback)

"My horse is outside waiting for me I wonder how she can still be alive after all these years. But she is there, and she must be hungry, so I grab a carrot (with the greens still attached) and head toward the pasture. I call her name in the old familiar way, and she whinnies in recognition. When I find her, she chomps down the carrot and greens."

*

"I'm actually breathing underwater The cool water rushes by, keeping me safe as I glide along. I think about how strange it is to be able to breathe normally while swimming underwater. I'm probably the only person on earth who can do this."

*

I had these dreams for decades. In both cases, there was eventually a new element that acknowledged the existence of the previous versions . . . "before it was just a dream, but now it's really happening."

Some time ago I started an essay about my underwater dream. I quickly realized that the dream was tied to my lifelong debilitating shyness: staying underwater indefinitely was a handy way to escape social interaction. It's a great dream, but I didn't want to write about the humiliation of being unable to make small talk or, for that matter, most kinds of talk. I preferred to forget all the times I put my foot in my mouth - besides, it's embarrassing to admit to feeling so embarrassed.

An essay about my horse was also put aside because I assumed I wouldn't remember enough details from forty years ago. I often thought about my beautiful horse with a star on her forehead, and the dreams I had about "her," but it didn't go much further than that.

Then I saw the movie "Secretariat" and was inspired once again to write about the horse I had when I was a teenager. I wondered if my two recurring dreams might be connected . . . if I were able to breathe underwater, I could ride the wave longer and put off facing the rest of the world . . . and if only my horse were still with me, I wouldn't feel so alone when I did have to face it all. Were they two sides of the same coin? I decided they were.

I was surprised to discover that the more I wrote about the past, the more I remembered, until finally the whole story unfolded. Looking back at the horse factor in my childhood from a grownup perspective - especially inside the framework of the dreams - made me begin to understand myself. It was revealing as well to find out that there's one detail my psyche is keeping beyond my reach.

This is the story of a girl who felt less alone because of her friendship with a horse.