Where is my magical horse?

The power of dreams and opting out of the race

I had a dream earlier this year where I was driving around a narrow two-lane road on the edge of a steep cliff, not unlike the roads near the headlands in Marin, CA. Then the worst happened. Another car came along and my car veered off the edge of the road. I flew out of the driver’s seat and tried to save myself. I was able to grab onto a shrub on the edge of the cliff, but I was terrified, suspended hundreds of feet above the ground. My hand grasping onto this one fragile branch was all that was between me and most certain death. Then suddenly I remembered I was dreaming.

Once I realized that, I took a pause. I thought to myself, Huh. If I am dreaming I can literally do whatever I want. So I what do I want to do? My first thought was, Fly.

Suddenly a magical flying horse appeared out of nowhere and I jumped on. I want to say the horse looked like a real life My Little Pony and that it was pink (from the Pink Pony Club), but I don’t actually remember. Regardless of color, I knew for sure that this horse would bring me to wherever I wanted to go.

We flew off together and I woke up feeling free. What if that magical horse existed in my waking life? What does it look like? And where is it?

I am extending the metaphor. I don’t believe there is a real world flying horse, but I do think there are choices that serve as a sort of magical portal into a new life that is more aligned.

If it sounds like I’m advocating for spiritual bypassing, I’m not. I’m not talk about denial or avoidance of problems, I assume that’s what got me to the edge of the cliff. I’m talking about the magical horse as a solution that you didn’t see coming, one that you might have to give yourself permission to receive.

In many ways, coming out as queer and now non-binary feels like that gay pony coming to save me from a life of confusion and a disconnection from my intuition. In hindsight many opportunities and good choices passed me by because I was out of sync with myself and trying so hard to do ‘the right thing;’ to win praise from others to validate choices that I knew deep down were not my own. 

My competitive, stubborn spirit has allowed me to keep making art, stay alive through all this, and other things that require a will of steel- like talking to the student loan companies on the phone. But for many years, this energy was focused in the direction of winning at being straight.

This meant hurrying around, trying to please everyone, and following rules that had been established long before I was born. Meanwhile no one could really see me for who I was, or thought about me even a fraction as much as I thought about them.

Ever since I saw it in in 2017 at a film screening I co-curated with the Royal NoneSuch gals at the Little Roxie, I think a lot about a video piece called “The Queer Art of Failure” by Kate Rhoades. It’s a short film that’s part of her Required Skimming series inspired by different art and philosophical texts. In this case it is
”The Queer Art of Failure” by Jack Halberstam. Full disclosure: I have not read the text.

In the video, the protagonist. Rhoades’ girlfriend Katie, is seen starting a footrace on a track getting her feet into position, but in a way that suggests she has few f*cks left to give. Even before the gun goes off, we see Katie wander away from the starting line. The camera cuts to a montage of Katie lounging on a couch, drinking beer and eating a piece of pizza with friends. Ultimately our protagonist, unphazed by the fact that she ditched out on the race, finds her way home. The movie ends with them cuddling on their bed, medal-less but happy.

This left an impression on me because it spoke to the part of me that was exhausted by years of body dysmorphia, work addiction and various other coping mechanisms that I used to cover up the feeling that I could never work hard enough and would never be enough. Here was a woman who has opted out and ended up happily ever after. It’s a short film, but this is an example of why storytelling is so powerful.

Back to the magic horse. What does she/he/they look like now? In my mind the horse offers a promise of more fun, creativity, connection and getting to be exactly whoever I am in the moment, and that being not only enough but celebrated.

What does your magical horse bring you?