Wild Horses

If you’re familiar with that title, it’s probably because you’re familiar with a song; either by The Rolling Stones or a subsequent recording by another band or artist. If you like the song, it’s probably because there’s something about it of resonance for you; you’re definitely not looking to get up and dance when you hear it or put it on to listen. Something about the tone and message of the song probably touches you or moves you. Depending on how big of a fan you are of the version that you prefer, the song probably actually touches you deeply and can often render you pensive or experiencing some level of substantive emotion.

I like and appreciate the song, but it’s not one of my favorites by the Stones, or a song I love all that much in general. I’ve actually tried to love the song because I feel like I should for some reason, but it just doesn’t happen for me. It has moved me before though, it has had its resonance and effect. The reason I know how the song can make you feel is because I too have had the first-hand experience of how it can resonate in various ways. So, it’s a song I’m appreciative of and grateful for in one of those weird and unique ways that sometimes, to me at least (and of course), feels that only I could lend gratitude and appreciation.

I haven’t listened to that song in a long time, but recently its title, or maybe a concept derived from the title has really been something that’s rested on and run through my mind. For some reason, in my thoughts, I find myself in the position of a wild horse and being extremely empathetic of the perspective shift that it seems would have to take place in order for them to transition from “wild” to “tamed.” Of course, I really have no idea what that thought process is really like for a horse, but in my head, I’ve somehow laid out the gist of the whole thing and as previously mentioned even felt a great deal of empathy to a level that I can really only describe as an inexplicable extent. Those thoughts and feelings mainly center around the emotional toll that I imagine must accompany such a necessary perspective shift; going from a wild, free, and boundless existence to one of only the boundaries and restrictions of confinement.

I imagine that the horse must initially acknowledge its capture. Most likely the horse didn’t just wander into domestication, right? So, there’s an initial resistance and rebellion. This isn’t natural to the horse, so its behavior will reflect the rejection of this concept. This isn’t the environment in which it’s lived and maybe even thrived up to this point. It’s been self-determinative, and self-sufficient, and allowed to move and act as nature has determined it should before this new circumstance arrived. Though it’s only acting as it feels it should, day over day the efforts to do what comes naturally are only admonished, punished, or at least blocked by an impenetrable barrier. As the days add up, and the efforts are duplicated and met with the same resistance, time after time after time, eventually the horse realizes there’s no reward in the rebellion…at least I imagine.

What’s in its best interest, I imagine it realizes, is to acknowledge this as a fate it must accept, and maybe even own. Yes, I have ascribed these characteristics to the horse’s thoughts and feelings, and yes, I have thought that maybe I need to have a deeper analysis into why. Nevertheless, that’s another story; right?

I imagine that the horse, in accepting its new fate, may even do so in an optimistic way. It may look around at its current surroundings and say to itself, “this really isn’t so bad after all.” It begins to accept the trappings that come along with the confinement, even. “It’s not so bad,” it thinks, to be fed and sheltered within these boundaries; maybe it’s even allowed to mate. It grows to appreciate the lesser space in which it’s allowed instead of harboring resentment as it relates. The horse may even begin to turn and look at its caretaker, which could alternatively be seen as its captor and oppressor, with a great deal of fondness. The horse may ultimately grow to love, appreciate, and maybe even admire what it now views as its caretaker. After all, this is the furnisher of this situation of less accountability, responsibility, and more security. “What more could the horse ask for; what more could it have?” I imagine it thinks.

And in turn at a point, the caretaker may look upon the horse in its current state, with its taken-on behavior, after what may have been a long and difficult process of breaking, and say or think to themselves, “I knew they’d eventually understand that this is what’s best for them.” And that individual may then, despite the fight to get to this point and the fact it must now care for this horse’s every need, have grown to also love and appreciate the horse, and look upon the horse with a great deal of fondness. So now they may both henceforth move on smiling upon each other with the past as nothing more than memories, if that. At least, this is what I imagine.