Flying Horses

I have horses in my soul.

It might sound like one of those cheesyass things that doesn’t really mean anything but, it doesn’t make it any less true.

I used to own a horse.

A beautiful bay mare quarter horse for those of you playing along at home.

I got her when I was a child and stopped being interested in her as a teen.  But she is still part of my dreams.

When I was a teenager I used to dream every night that I was flying.

They were wonderful, amazing, and fantastic dreams.  The kind I would hate to wake up from.

And here’s the thing.

I am a scaredy person.  I won’t make the leap unless I know for certain that I will be safe.

Even things that won’t really hurt me will be avoided because I am cautious.

Safe and cautious.

But then I get on a horse.

And I am still not the first one to go tearing across a field at break neck speeds every time.

But I will do it sometimes.

And when my soul and that soul match in the excitement of the moment:  The sound of the ground being pounded below you, the feel of the muscles against your leg, the wind that pushes your hair back as you race.

It’s the closest I will ever come to the dream.

And even though I have not been on a horse in several years, I still look at every open field with the potential of that moment.

That moment when I forget to be safe, and just enjoy the ride.

So I hope you have a “horse” of your own.  A thing that in your life brings you the feeling that you are the most you can be, at least for a moment in time.

And I hope you feel it often…


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