How Much Do I Love this?

A LOT  Undertaking my twenty minute walk to the bus after my forty minute lesson, I looked around, at the blossoming trees, the burgeoning furze, and I was suddenly awash with how much I love doing this horseriding thing.

Most Thursdays, my legs feel broken not so much from the lesson— although it’s a contributory factor— but from the fast walk to the bus, a bus that adheres to its schedule imperfectly, one that I hate to miss as the next one doesn’t come for twenty more minutes and my legs are broken from the lesson, the fast walk…

You get the picture.

But as I regarded the myriad colours of the foliage, the deep, deep deciduous green, the flaming red, an ethereal grove of birches, all clustered together like a painting, I shrugged and left it up to the gods of public transport. I loved everything, and that included buses that I might miss.

I got several ‘very goods’ and one ‘very good’ in the lesson today. Reb hates the wee fences, so the jumping wasn’t stellar, but it’s giving me the opportunity to work on recovery and post-fence steering. I was sitting on my bum, and the canter felt like I was in a movie or a car commercial. Ha!

I had a sense of myself, cantering around, of: I’m on the back of a horse— we are moving together— it’s not terrifically fast, but it’s powerful— I am here— I am doing this. I wasn’t obsessed with controlling Rebel, so he wasn’t intent on fighting me [how I wish I’d realised this in my erstwhile marriage!] and we went and went and went.

You just never know when you’re going have one of those days, one of those days when everything is perfectly fine and your life is great. Here’s to more of those; I must say, I’m having my fair share lately. And I’m not even trying. This may be a secret of the universe. You heard it here first…

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