Getting Back On

Look, I'm in an actual photo! And yes there was a horse at my wedding.

I fell off of a horse once. 

Honestly I actually didn’t “fall”  I think more accurately I was more so flung into the air.  You’d have to ask my friend who had the bright idea of teaching me to ride WITHOUT using the stirrups, I was too busy trying not to die to see what exactly happened. 

And even more honestly it was all the fault of the brilliant wanna-be-cowboy who thought it would be a genius idea to jump onto my horse (a trained western rodeo, used to be a bucking bronco type of horse) from the round-pen fence while we were cantering.

My horse didn’t think any of this was too neat and decided to show US his skills from back in the day.  One tiny buck, two tiny bucks, one real buck which ended with me on the ground seeing tracers of my hand.  (Which is really fun to play with IF people aren’t freaking out around you)

After I was done playing with the tracers and laughing about the small dent in my helmet I rushed over to my horse, and with shaky knees got right back on.

That was easy.

It wasn’t so easy to get back on the horse that chased me down in a field with a whole famous western scene stallion rearing up with the sunset behind him.  Yeah.  His name was Freckles.  He should be glue.

I’ve also stayed FAR away from the horse that tried to kill me with me on her back, while my dog training instructor giggled, “How’d you manage to stay on her?” 

Fear.  Pure fear, that’s how I stayed on, and friggen thighs of steel. 

You fall off you get back on.  The fear may not disappear but you get back on, unless the horse’s name is Lucy or Freckles, then you just stay the hell away, but normally you get back on.

So what do you do when your brain, your conscience, your self-esteem is the big scary horse that threw you into a brick wall?

You brush the horse poop bad thoughts off of you, take a picture of the dent in your helmet laugh off the hurt, tighten the reins and dig your feet securely into the stirrups.  You Get Back On. 

Even if you have to ask for a boost from a friend.

Even if you need a shot of liquid courage first.

Even if it requires an entire bottle of Advil.

Even if you shouldn’t.

You get back on.

And yes I might be repeating a theme from the last post.  Deal with it.  It is THAT important.

I still don’t think or believe that I have the talent for this whole “writing” deal.  I still think my book should have a date with my goat’s stomach, but I’ve never been the type to let anything get the best of me, even if it’s a horse that’s 5 billion times bigger than me or a dog that sent me to the er after he thought my flesh would make a tasty snack. 

How scary could a little book be?  Certainly no scarier than a hoof to the hip, or a 70 pound Belgian Malinois with a grudge. 

Shakey knees, butterfly filled stomach, and a billion pounds of doubt and all, I am getting back on.

What fears are you facing?

2 responses to “Getting Back On

  1. It’s so funny, to me, to read how you “doubt this whole writing thing”. I’ve said the same thing about myself…except, g’friend…you DO have talent. You, like me, compare yourself to the already published – the lucky few who’ve worked really hard (and maybe one or two that haven’t…worked hard) to get their words into the hands of an appreciative reader. I wonder: Do they question every phrase they type? Do they question their talent, skill, marketability? Oh…I’m 100% positive that so many, many, oodles of them do. The difference between The Talent that gets published and The Talent that languishes in “I Wish I Would Have…” is that they love writing so much that it finds any way it can to seep out of them. You KNOW you see yourself in that last statement. So, question answered…whether you asked or not…KEEP WRITING AND WORKING ON THAT DAMN BOOK, WOMAN!

    As for me…I was bitten by a horse once. One should never walk up next to a horse while they are eating. Stupid kid.

    • Everything in my head wants me to reply with some tune of ‘whine whine whine, and butttttttttt’. I think instead I’m going to make this a postcard and mail it back and forth between the two of us…

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